Page 67 of Vicious Games

Thankfully, I’ve got my hard-on under submission by the time she finishes.

As I’m about to ask her if she wants more, she grabs our plates with the intent of washing them. But before she can take them to the sink, I catch her wrist.

“Leave them.”

“You made the food,” she argues. “The least I can do is clean up.”

I tighten my grip just enough to make sure she listens. “Leave the plates, Frankie.” My voice drops a little lower. “I have a better idea of how you can thank me.”

“Hmm. How come I don’t like the sound of this?” She arches an eyebrow.

“Oh, you will.”

“I doubt it.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

She eyes me skeptically before nodding.

She shouldn’t. She really shouldnottrust me.

As far as my intentions go, they’re anything butvirtuous.

“Come on,” I say, threading my fingers through hers.

Again, she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t fight me. And when I lead her back into the living room, she follows, hand in hand with me.

Instead of sitting on the floor as usual, I drop onto the couch and tug her down beside me.

She eyes me warily and asks, “What is this?”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I let my eyes roam her face, letting the weight of what I’m about to say sink in. “What happened today with Sister Margaretta,” I finally say, “was absolute bullshit, and you know it.”

“It is what it is. I can handle it.” She gives a crestfallen smile.

“Fuck that. It’ll only get worse once you take your vows.”

Something in her gaze flickers, like a brief moment of doubt, and I make sure to use it to my advantage.

“I’m supposed to be tutoring you, right?” I say, watching her carefully.

“Yeah…” she answers cautiously. “So?”

“So, I have a proposition.”

“Here it comes,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “What is it?”

“Well, like many subjects we learn in math, we need to know every variable before we can figure out the correct answer. The same logic can be applied to life.”

“Still not following.” She purses her lips, unimpressed.

“I want you to have all the facts before you make any lifelong decisions.”

“This is about me taking my vows after graduation again, isn’t it?”

“It is.” I nod, holding her gaze. “I can’t let you make that kind of commitment without having all the facts. What kind of tutor would I be if I let that happen?”

“The kind that minds his own fucking business,” she retorts, pushing off the couch.

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