Page 75 of Vile Boys

I tilt my head as she stares right back into my eyes, and fuck me, it makes me want to grab her and bend her over this very fucking table to show her just how much of a fucking gentleman I can be.

“Bitch,” I retort.

“Caleb!” My dad shoves me.

Crystal scoots her chair back. “Let me help you in the kitchen, Mom.”

Crystal throws me a snooty look, but I ignore it as she heads to the kitchen.

“Really, Caleb?” my dad scolds me.

“What? I don’t fucking like her. Big deal.”

“Don’t. Don’t fucking do this.” He breathes out a big sigh. “Not today. Please.”

I roll my eyes.

“Go make up with her,” he says, pointing at the kitchen. “Now.”

Reluctantly, I scoot my chair back too and saunter into the kitchen. She’s cutting a cucumber lying on a wooden board, maybe a little too hard.

The closer I get, the harder her cuts become, like she’s trying to slice through the board itself.

Or me.

I lick my lips and watch her seethe.

She’s probably still thinking about all the things I did to her to make her filthy as hell.

Just as filthy as me.

I approach her from behind, placing both hands on the counter so I can look over her shoulder.

“You’re bad at this,” I say.

“Probably not as bad as you.”

I grab her hand that’s holding the knife, and she freezes in place. I guide her hand across the board and cut through the cucumber sothinly that the slice that’s left is practically see-through. I keep going, each slice causing her to take a ragged breath as I push up closer and closer, growing harder and harder.

“That’s how you do it,” I whisper into her ear.

She takes another ragged breath, her hand tightening around the blade while mine tightens around hers. Her body quivers against me, and I’m wondering if I just made her wet.

“I want to skewer you,” she murmurs.

My bulge twitches.

“Do it,” I whisper into her ear.

She spins around on her heels, poking the knife straight into my belly. “Do you always beg like that?”

“Do you see me on my knees?” I grip her hand and push the knife even farther into my belly. She’s taken aback and flinches. “It will take a knife to get me there.”

“You’re an asshole,” she grits.

“Only to people who annoy me,” I reply.

“Why are you so protective of your dad?”

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