Page 557 of Filthy Elites

I think I might love this woman.

And suddenly, I feel terrible. My motherisfucking her husband. I’ve removed myself from that situation, telling myself it’s their business, but now that I know more of Lisa, I hate it. No wonder Chase is a dick to me.

Not that it justifies anything. He might have started pushing me around in a noble quest to avenge his mother’s honor, but his motivations have since changed. He’s doing what he's doing because he wants to. Because he desires me, and doesn’t respect me. And I let him because I desire him, and I like naughty games.

This balance doesn't work for me. I need more. I need him to look at me and see a person, not a toy. This week was too much. I can’t even pinpoint when he crossed a line exactly. It might have been the blowjob. It might have been Jade. I just know I’ve had enough.

So I will spend today ensuring he understands I can fuck with his life if I want to.After setting up a tutoring schedule with Lisa, I start the second part of my plan.

ChapterFifteen

Roman’s a dick.

Coach likes to torture us by making us switch positions occasionally. Some bullshit about understanding how hard the others have it and whatnot. I utterly suck as a wide receiver. They basically just run all the fucking time. He’s lighter and faster than me, and he can’t fucking stop giving me shit for being so out of breath after one game playing his position.

“Look, I’m just saying, if you want to get some more training in, I run most mornings.” Roman grins. “You could join me.”

I shoot him the finger.

“Hey. Working on your endurance can’t hurt.”

“Another word and I’m chucking you out of the car, dick.”

I tense as we near the entrance of my house. It’s tradition for the team to eat at each other’s houses after training on Saturdays. Coach hosts the first week, and we alternate after that. I’ve done my utmost to delay my turn, though my mother loves an excuse to host.

My car slides along the paved driveway to the front doors. I leave the gates open behind me so that the rest of the team can drive in.

Mom opens the door with a bright smile and a platter of muffins in her hands before I can even get out of my car.

“Dude, your mother’s such a MILF,” Camden says from the back seat.

“I will punch you.” He’s been singing that tune for the last three years at a minimum.

My mother is beautiful, but she’s still my mother. I’m duty bound to threaten his ass every time he decides to be a dick.

The rest of the team rolls in in four cars, and the gates close behind the last one, a shiny Maserati. It’s easy to see who’s old and who’s new money just by looking at the cars we drive. My granddad might have increased our family’s fortune, but we’ve been wealthy for generations. Nate’s dad made his money by designing apps; he’s as new money as it comes, and his showy two-hundred-thousand birthday present attests to it. I’m fine with my Jeep. I’ve had it for two years, and it still runs like a dream. For my eighteenth birthday, my grandfather gave me unlimited access to my trust fund, my father signed a check for a hundred grand that he recommended I invest, and Mom took me for pizza. All right, she flew us to Rome for that pizza, but we’re not nearly as flashy as the nouveau riche. We have a few fancier cars in the garage, for certain occasions, but I’m not about to use one to go to school every day.

I don’t mind Nate, though. He’s all expensive sneakers and gold jewelry, but he doesn’t take life too seriously. Outside of the school or football uniforms, he and I couldn’t look any more different. I wear loafers, and though I prefer jeans, I do own a pair of cream chinos. I’m basically about to become my father, minus the blatant, disrespectful cheating. So are Roman, Camden and Rhys, I suppose. Nate forces us to let loose. He throws a party every weekend, and drags us to the college campus north of town every other day.His messy dark hair needs a cut in my opinion, but girls love his style, his swagger.

I only breathe easily when he and the rest of the team have crossed the courtyard and walked in the house without sparing a glance at the brownstone. I haven’t mentioned the fact that Erica lives on our property to anyone, and I don’t want them to find out.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say, taking one of her muffins as I walk in.

I bite into it and moan in both pleasure and surprise. My mother doesn’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, but she’s a decent cook. That said, she sucks at baking. She generally messes up the proportions, cooking time, or whatever. This muffin is perfection, though. Better even than the kind her caterer makes.

“Good, right?” She grins, closing the door behind us. “Erica made them this morning. You should have tried them warm. To die for.”

I practically choke. Swallowing thickly, I echo, “Erica?”

I blink at the ridiculously perfect muffin in my hand, completely taken aback. I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming. I suppose I didn’t think she’d go that far. Family’s supposed to be sacred, a line even I wouldn’t cross. If I have a problem with someone, I deal with them directly.

Only that’s not exactly true, is it? Otherwise, I would have bent my mind toward making Audrey’s life a nightmare, rather than latching on to her daughter. Audrey’s the one who’s fucking my dad, but Erica’s the one I have a problem with.

My jaw tightens. Erica is going to regret this move.

“Did she say anything?” I snarl, barely containing my anger.

“Nothing much. We had a nice chat about school, I mentioned the hospital. You know. We’re just getting to know each other.” Mom’s doing that thing where she’s pretending to be dumb, batting her long lashes. I’ve seen her do it to my father a thousand times. It might work on him, but I know her better. “Lovely girl, isn’t she? I’m so glad she stopped by. Another muffin?”

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