Page 194 of Filthy Elites

I waited until dawn for Reagan to come back to the farm. I’d left her in her dorm room, fucked out and dripping with my cum. She’d wanted it—asked for it. I would’ve slept in her bed that night, spooned against her soft curves, but that’s not how Miller Hansen operates. Women come to me, not the other way around.

Except she never came back and while I pour cereal and milk into a paper bowl, an unfamiliar niggle of worry worms into the back of my brain.

Did last night go too far? Following her home, questioning her motives… sleeping with her?

No. I heard her ask me to fuck her. Begged me. Her pussy was wet and slippery, lubed up and ready. Shewantedme.

God knows I wanted her.

I fill the dark hole in my belly with another spoonful of cereal.

“There’s my boy,” Knox shouts, strolling into the room. He grabs a plate and loads it with eggs and bacon, then carries it over to the table and drops in the chair next to mine. “Dude, thank you for handing over those three last night. They were very willing to let me break them in Zeta Sig style.”

Anal. That’s our style.

I fish around for cereal in the pool of milk. “Yeah?”

“They were game for just about anything. The blonde did this thing with her tongue.” He shivers and grins down at his food. “You should join in next time.”

“Good to know,” I say, not sharing my own sexploits from the night before.

Knox has a thing for group sex. He likes to watch, participate, encourage. The first time I agreed, it was a little weird. I wasn’t used to having another guy watch me get sucked off, but it’s his kink, and I’m not here to judge. Seeing him enjoy me get enjoyment? It was kind of hot. “Come find me next time.”

Royer walks in looking rough, eyes rimmed in red from the late night.

“Find you for what?” he asks, going for the coffee. He pours himself a cup and grabs five slices of toast.

“A foursome,” Knox says through a mouthful of eggs. Royer frowns at his lack of manners. “My boy did me a solid by handing over a trio primed and ready.”

“How generous of him,” Royer says, taking a sip of coffee. “By the way, number forty-seven didn’t come back last night.” He cuts his eyes over at me. “He’s your pet—where is he?”

I shrug. “He took off with the chit Rat set him up with. I guess probably sleeping it off in the backseat of a car or something.”

Royer responds by taking another long drink of his black coffee, never taking his eyes off me.

I swallow the last bite of cereal and carry the bowl over to the trash and toss it. “Is there a problem?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Seems convenient that your boy keeps getting out of complicated jams. Beating the Cum Cup time, winning the liquor store challenge, all while doing your homework and following you around like a puppy.”

“I don’t back losers,” I say casually, leaning against the counter. “You know that.”

“You just seem a little overly invested in this kid.”

“You play your games, I play mine. I didn’t get involved when you pulled that prank on your little Reagan. I’m not sure why you’re so worried about me.”

“He’s right,” Knox says, chiming in. “Neither of us interfered with you and Andrea’s game. That was all you.”

“Seriously?” he asks. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t involved with taking down Reagan. You fucked with her as much as me and Andrea.”

“But it was your plan,” I point out. I’m not sure where this is going, or what’s got Royer in a snit, but I’m not in the mood. “I just did what you asked me to do.”

“Right, and right now I’m asking you to tell me how you plan on dealing with forty-seven not coming back after the party last night. It’s a violation.”

“I don’t see why this is such a big deal?” I ask. “And since when do you stay up all night waiting, taking roll?” I glance at Knox. “Sounds like I’m not the one obsessed with forty-seven.”

Knox snorts and nods in agreement. “He’s got you there, dude.”

“Not that I need to explain myself,” Royer says, “but Andrea made me come over last night. I got in late and did a bed check. Forty-seven is the only one that didn’t make it back before dawn.”

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