Page 10 of Scarred Sacrifice
Eden laughs as she bumps her shoulder with mine. “Man, I would kill to have your confidence,” she sighs.
“Ahh, don’t mistake my no fucks with confidence, because those are two very different things. Just because I don’t give a fuck what people think of me doesn’t mean I have the confidence,” I point out. “And you could wear this outfit and look good,” I add.
Eden snorts. “With these?” she asks, pointing to her very large and ample chest. “I wear anything that is slightly revealing or clings too much to these, it’s like men have an open invitation to stare. Hell, even women stare. It’s just easier for me to blend into the background when I keep things covered up,” she explains.
“Well, if my hooters were as ample as yours, I’d have those babies jiggling about everywhere.” I laugh, and Eden joins me, shaking her head.
“You have more than enough to jiggle. You don’t need any more.”
“Do I even want to know what you are talking about?” Betsy asks as she comes up behind me.
“We are talking about jiggling our tits,” I say with a straight face.
Betsy pushes her glasses up her nose and rolls her eyes, like she’s not surprised by our conversation.
“Come on, let’s go meet Miss Sparks and hear what she has to say,” I sigh.
“Nathaniel is driving us. He’s waiting out in the van,” Eden states. I let out a groan. Eden pauses and looks at me. “What?” she asks.
“He got a little clingy back in my room. I was going to try and keep my distance from him,” I briefly explain.
“Well, he’s just driving us. You don’t need to fuck him,” Eden says sharply. I blanche a little at her sharp tone, and she shakes her head. “What I’m trying to say is, he’s just driving, so you don’t even need to talk to him,” she adds. “And I hope he gets over it because it would be a shame to lose him,” Eden states.
I smirk. “He’s good with his mouth, isn’t he?”
“Sweet lord, that man deserves awards for what he can do with his tongue,” Eden agrees.
“Can we talk about something that isn’t sex?” Betsy complains.
“How about dicks? Can we talk about dicks?” I ask mockingly. Betsy gives me a look that says she’s about to kick me in the cooter. “Love you.” I grin. She rolls her eyes and climbs into the back of the van. I climb in, feeling Daniel’s eyes on my behind. “Eyes to yourself, Daniel,” I chastise.
“It’s Nathaniel,” Eden whispers in my ear.
“I mean, er, Nathaniel,” I correct myself.
“You know, if you were a man, you’d be a sexist pig,” Betsy states.
I look at her. “If I were a man, I wouldn’t ever have to explain myself,” I counter.
Eden clips her seat belt in. “She’s got a point there.” She nods, agreeing with me.
“You know, maybe you should try enjoying a lap dog. Daniel will happily lie still while you just nestle down on his face. You don’t even have to see his dick,” I say quietly so he doesn’t hear.
“It’s fucking Nathaniel, you twat,” Eden sighs.
“Sorry, I really don’t mean to, but they do sound the same.” I wince in apology.
“It doesn’t matter who he is or how good he is with his tongue. I don’t want any man,” Betsy cuts in.
I look to Eden, and we lean in. “Would you rather a woman? Because there are some bars we could go to and find you someone that appeals to you,” I offer.
Betsy groans and bangs her head against the side of the van. “If someone could just crash into the van now, that would be great,” she mutters to herself.
“Oh honey, it’s okay to be gay. We won’t see you any differently. Be you, be happy,” I coo.
“I’m not gay!” Betsy snaps. “I just don’t want a man in any way. Okay?”
I hold up my hands, palms up in surrender. “Okay, okay. We just love you and want you happy.”
