Page 59 of Bad for You

He swims away to safety.

Apart from the obvious, something is very wrong with Valentina. She is pissed off—more so than usual, that is.

I don’t know what happened last night for her to…

Oh fuck.

Did she see what happened between Gianna and me? Or perhaps Gianna told her? This would explain the insanity I’m currently witnessing.

And when Valentina stands, revealing the skimpy red bikini she’s wearing, as if making a point, it seems my inkling may be true.

God, her body is fucking perfection. She’s curvy and strong. I know how she smells because I want to fucking devour her every time she walks past me. She brushes the wet hair from her face and licks away a droplet of water lingering on her top lip.

I’ve tried not to think of her this way because nothing good ever comes of it, but goddamn, I’m weak when she’s looking at me all wet and sun-kissed. I want to rob her of air as I kiss the fuck out of her while she’s pulling my hair. I want to choke the smile from her face until she moans my name.

My cock is about to punch a hole through my jeans.

One of the guys makes it very clear he is eyeing Valentina’s breasts. I barely resist the urge to throw a beer can at his stupid face.

She’s doing this to get a rise out of me, but I’ll be damned if I cave.

I stare her down, making it very clear that she can flaunt her shit all she wants. It doesn’t make a difference because I’m not jealous—even though I want to rip off those two motherfuckers’ heads and shit down their headless necks.

Gianna waits for me to react. And I do occasionally put her teachings into practice.

I count to three and channel some fucking crystal energy juju, dumping the bags and beer by the pool’s edge.

I don’t say a word as I turn around and make my way into the house so I can kick the shit out of the punching bag in the gym because I am not jealous—said no one ever.

Namaste, motherfuckers.

He doesn’t care.

And it hurts.

I can pretend that it doesn’t.

But it does.

All Lenny ever does is hurt me.

Yet I can’t stay away.

But last night, when I saw him and Gianna, that hurt turned to something else.

I wanted to hurt him how he hurt me.

I wanted him to want me how he does Gianna.

But all I’ve done is make a fool of myself.

These two guys, whose names I’ve already forgotten, were here tending to the gardens when Gianna invited them to join us in the pool. I was surprised she even offered, but when she suggested we ask Lenny to bring back some snacks, I jumped at the chance, hoping to make him jealous.

I wondered if she too was hoping to achieve this because, knowing Lenny, he probably hasn’t spoken two words to her after spitting on her pussy and watching her play with herself for him.

I am angry and disgusted at both of them because I feel like the third wheel.

Gianna can have any man she wants, so why Lenny?

---