Page 15 of Shattered

“They were being assholes!”

“You need to knock this shit off, you don’t know them, they could’ve been psychos!”

The cops’ analysis makes me chuckle because he’s not far off. I watch him ensure she gets inside and hear him tell her to lock her doors. He waits there for a moment until the other blonde girl comes out. She’s younger than Lila, maybe in her early twenties, while Lila looks closer to her late twenties. She’s got long, curly blonde hair that engulfs half her body, making a curtain behind her as she hurries along with the cop. He walks her to her truck, just at the other end of the driveway, out of view. I hear it pull out and the sound of a car door opening and closing, but no engine. The cop’s going to stick around for a bit to ensure we don’t go after her.

But something tells me she’d like that.

“What a psycho bitch,” Bane says, in awe of Lila’s idiocy.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I steel.

I think I’ve found something to keep me entertained in this shit town.

Chapter 4

Lila

Edgar wanted me to spend the night with him and Nash. At first, I thought he was ridiculously overprotective, but now I think he was concerned thatIwould be the problem, as if I’m going to go mouth off to those two asshats again. They’ve turned the music off, but they’re still sitting inmychairs.

It’s tempting...

I know I’m no prude, but whatever happened out there was way out of pocket. Where in god’s name did Asher get the balls to flirt so offensively with me!? The anger has my whole body clenched as if I might implode.

In my rage, I text Juliet.

Lila: I know you’re pissed at me, but I’m sorry, and I have the tea.

Juliet: You’re forgiven. I’m sorry, too.

While I start to type, my phone rings, and I answer, putting it on speaker and laying it on the bed beside me.

“What happened?” Juliet asks, her interest piqued.

I explain the entire encounter to her, true down to every last word, and she eats it up the whole time.

“I know what would make you feel better. Make a sex tape.”

And as if I couldn’t get any more pissed off, Juliet manages to hit that nerve.

“Are you for real?”

“Oh, come on! You used to be a sex machine!”

“Juliet, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m straight!”

“At least a few more times.”

I can’t listen to this shit anymore, so I hang up. In a fluster of fury, I scroll back through my phone to videos and pictures from years ago. I find one from a couple years back, a solo video I’d sent to Ian while he was at work.

I’m sitting in bed, fully clothed in plain black pants and a white top. My hair was shorter and lighter back then, but now it’s longer and more dirty blonde. Even though it’s only a couple of years old, I look different. I was still so bright back then, full of life.

There’s no talking in the video; it’s silent, other than the soft sound of my breathing. I slide my hand up my sternum, taking my shirt with it, exposing my stomach and the bottom of my breasts.

I make a show of removing my top, and with no bra underneath, my breasts come free. They’re small, but I’ve always liked how delicate they look and how I don’t need to wear a bra. I spend some time kneading my breasts, cupping them in my small hands, and pinching my nipples, bringing a flush of pink to both my nipples and cheeksbefore moving down. I begin by sliding my palm into the front of my pants, making more of a show than anything, knowing it’s impossible to touch myself effectively inside a pair of tight pants. Once I take them off, leaving me in just a thong, I turn around on all fours to give a POV shot of my ass and squeeze my cheeks before peeling the thong down.

I press my thighs together, giving a view of my pussy while it’s closed, and run my fingers through my soft, smooth folds. Once I’m satisfied, I turn around to sit down and open my legs slowly to reveal myself.

The video is only a few minutes long, and the bulk of the rest of it is me playing with my pussy with my fingers, inserting them to gather some moisture, and using that moisture to create a slippery sheen over my clit as it swells to life. As I get closer to the end, my whimpers grow louder until I come with a satisfying, drawn-out moan.

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