Page 132 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

She stares at me with open shock.

“Your hands, Winters.”

Hesitantly, she holds them out, palms up, as if she’s expecting me to give her something.

I look at the ceiling, blatantly composing myself.

“He wants to see your nails,” Romi hisses at her from the bench.

“You’re fu—” Nim begins, but Romi cuts in with a loud cough. When I look down, Nim’s mouth is in a furious little line, but she’s holding her fingers out straight so I can inspect her nails.

There’s nothing I can fault her on there, except maybe having too dainty hands. I hope she’s not planning a career in anything that requires physical dexterity.

She’d need to use both hands to hold my dick.

Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t spend ten seconds around this girl without turning into a horny teenager. I blame those big eyes of hers. Glittering with innocence in one blink, full of fury the next.

“You’re a fucking mess, Winters,” I snap, an uncharacteristic edge in my voice. “I’ve known show dogs who clean up better than you.”

Finally,thereit is. The prettiest pink touches her cheeks as her anger simmers into embarrassment. She’s bruised, but I want—need—tobreakher.

“Even mutts can be taught,” Silas says quietly, his words meant only for the four of us. “That’s what makes dogs such good pets.”

“You’re right, Miller,” I muse, putting my head to the side as I study Nim. “This bitch simply lacks the necessarytraining.”

“Easy fix,” Mason says, his voice at its lowest, its roughest.

Heholds out his hand, and I hand him Nim’s necktie. All jokes aside, I really do have to show her how it’s done. A proper pussycat bow on a neck as slim and pale as Nim’s?Mmm.

Her nostrils flare when she catches sight of my expression, and I turn to Silas to break eye contact. He gives me Nim’s hair tie, her eyes darting between Mason and me as we both step closer to her. Mason makes his move first, looping her tie over the back of her neck and tugging her close. She immediately starts struggling, especially when I walk behind her and grab her hair.

The entire cafeteria has gone silent, even Romi. No one dares interfere in case they become our next target. Mason goes to work tying a simple knot at Nim’s throat, leaving about two feet of shiny satin free as a leash, while I plait her hair into a quick French braid. A messy one, since I don’t have a brush, but it’s enough to keep her hair out of her face so everyone can see how she’sglowingwith shame. I come around to the front, giving her another once-over like I’m assessing the changes we made.

“Down,” I say, snapping my fingers and pointing at the floor.

She stares at me with incredulity and shock painted on her oval face. Mason tugs at her leash until she bends at the waist. Slowly she lowers onto hands and knees.

“Good girl,” I murmur, reaching over her to grab an olive from Romi’s salad bowl. Her roommatesits back in a rush, her head still bowed, and does nothing to stop me.

No one ever does.

I force that stuffed olive between Nim’s lips, and we watch as she chews, grimaces, and swallows.

“Clever little bitch,” Silas says.

“Come, girl,” I say, snapping my fingers at my side as I start walking away. When I glance over my shoulder, Nim is glaring white-hot daggers at me. But Mason starts walking, tugging at her leash, and she has no choice but to follow.

The cafeteria breaks into laughter and whoops as we lead Nim back to our table on her hands and knees. Luckily her stockings were already laddered—it would have been a shame to ruin a perfectly good pair.

I slide quickly onto my seat. I’ve been sporting a semi ever since I watched Mason tie that knot around Nim’s throat. And from the way Silas was watching Nim’s ass sway when we crossed the cafeteria, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s having some dirty thoughts of his own.

“Sit,” Mason commands, giving the leash a harsh tug when Nim doesn’t instantly obey. She sinks back onto her heels, her head hanging low.

I honestly thought we’d broken her when we start eating and she doesn’t look up. But then Mason makes a kissing sound, and Nim tips her head back to see what he wants. He holds out a baby carrot for her, making louder kissing sounds like he’s trying to entice her.

The rage in her eyes is otherworldly but she leans forward and takes the snack from him with her teeth. When some butter trickles over her bottom lip, she licks it up.

“Our little pet likes carrots, doesn’t she?” Mason says in a baby voice.

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