Page 93 of Bad for You

Bria waits downstairs as Valentina packs as much stuff as she can into her overnight bag.

I can’t help but continue looking at my watch because time is of the essence. Each second spent here is a second closer to getting caught.

“Look, whatever you need, we’ll buy, okay? Let’s go.” I grab her wrists, stopping her from rifling through her drawers.

But she looks at me with almost sadness. “I know, it’s just, this is the first time I’ve ever owned anything that was mine. It’s hard turning your back on something when you’ve had nothing. I know it’s stupid.”

I’m such a dumbass. Of course she’s nostalgic. This is the only home she’s ever known.

“No, it’s not stupid. I’m sorry. Take your time.”

I let her go, and she smiles, but it’s bittersweet. “So, Bria is pretty.”

“Is she?”

Valentina rolls her eyes. “Like you didn’t notice. It’s fine. You like her. I get it.”

“Hold up, I like her?” I ask because, what’s that got to do with anything?

She turns her back and walks into the walk-in closet. But I follow.

“Can we not do this now?”

“You’re the one who’s making a big deal about it,” she has the gall to reply as she rips a coat down from a hanger.

“No, I’m not the one who brought something so ridiculous up.”

“So you don’t think she’s pretty, then?” she asks, spinning around.

“She’s fucking pretty, but so what?” There’s no point denying it.

“Have you fucked her?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

Her cheeks turn a lovely shade of red. If this were any other time, I would revel in her jealousy. But now, this is just pissing me off.

“So that’s a yes, then. But, I mean, who haven’t you fucked? She was your brother’s drug dealer, for fuck’s sake! And now we’re going to live with her and her father! And you think here is bad.”

Valentina stands her ground, daring me to challenge her. We do not have time for this shit, but fuck me, she needs to be punished for being so goddamned disobedient time and time again.

She doesn’t stand a chance as I grab her by the throat and slam her back to the wall. She tries to fight me off, but I only grip her harder.

“I’m not fucking her,” I say, slipping a hand under her skirt and rubbing over the front of her underwear. She’s wet.

“I don’t care who you fuck.”

I simply laugh in response.

Her moans are muffled because I’ve not let her throat go. But she enjoys the pain. I can tell by the way her breaths quicken as I tighten my grip.

“You’re a bad liar, sweetheart.” I’m not gentle as I sink two fingers into her wet pussy and fuck her with them.

I will never tire of this.

Of the feel of her.

Of the way her breathless whimpers sound.

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