Page 32 of Toxic Hope
“I do want to make sure I get my lucky seat.” She points down the hall. “Emma is the second door on the right. She should be working on something for school, but she’s been working all day.She could use the break. I have to go. The senior center bus is here to pick me up.” She points toward the window.
“We’ll take good care of her,” Easton promises. I would promise, too, but I’m a little too distracted by the way my dick won’t stop twitching in anticipation. All to ourselves—and something tells me this bingo tournament is going to last a while. It’s enough to make my imagination work overtime, which it’s doing as Lois calls out to Emma that she’s leaving.
“But at least I know you have someone to keep you company. And boys,” she adds on her way out the door, “please, make yourselves at home. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
It is too easy.
Emma will be wondering what her grandma was talking about when she said there would be someone to keep her company, and I have waited long enough to see her today. So I waste no time going to her room and tapping on the door before swinging it open.
She’s at her desk, which takes up practically half of the small room. Between that, a dresser, and the bed, there’s hardly any space to move. It’s kind of bleak, a little sad, but the girl sitting in the chair with her ankles wrapped around the legs is more interesting.
“What are you doing here?” Right away, she tugs on the tight sleeve covering part of her left arm. She’s wearing a tank top, but for some reason, she’s keeping her arm covered. When she catches me looking, she scowls. “What? Are you offended? I have some ugly scar I want to keep covered. Is that a crime?”
Christ. Bite my head off, why don’t you?“Calm down. I was curious.”
Easton holds up the bag he’s still carrying. “We thought you could use chicken soup to help you feel better.”
Her mouth pulls into a thin line that’s just dripping with suspicion. “Right. Why do I find it hard to believe you would do something out of the goodness of your hearts?”
“You are really too skeptical.” I take a seat at the foot of her bed without asking for permission, running a hand over the soft comforter. “This is a nice room.”
“Yeah, right,” she mutters, clicking her tongue. “That’s not what you’re really thinking.”
“Damn. A guy can’t even make small talk with you. Here I am, trying to be nice.”
“Let me save you the trouble.” Raising her arm, she points to the door. “Get out of here. That way, you won’t have to be nice anymore.”
“Can you believe this?” I turn to Easton, who places the bag of soup on her desk. “Here we are, going out of our way, and all we get is a bunch of sarcasm.”
“Grandma Lois would probably be pretty disappointed in you,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “So rude to your guests.”
“Yeah, well, she isn’t…” It’s the funniest thing, watching her realize what is so obvious. Like her brain is finally catching up. With a gulp, she concludes, “She’s not here.”
“But she was so happy to find out you wouldn’t have to be here alone. Wasn’t she?” I ask Easton while Emma’s eyes widen. Every thought going through her head is written across her face. One thing is for sure: she’s terrified.
Easton closes the bedroom door before leaning his back against it, arms folded. “I’ve been thinking about that favor you owe us.”
“Us? As in both of you?” Her laughter isn’t as confident as I’m sure she wants it to sound. “Last time I checked, I already did one of you a favor yesterday.” The look she gives me could set ice on fire.
“I said what I said,” Easton replies. “You really need to relax, you know? You’ve been working so hard. Your grandma said so. You deserve a break.”
Narrowing her eyes, she looks at us both with suspicion. “Why do I feel like I’m going to still be working somehow?” she whispers. I’m pretty sure I can see her pulse fluttering in her neck. She’s that scared of us.
And even though I know it shouldn’t excite me to see that fear, my pulse picks up speed, too. Not because I’m afraid, though. Because I’ve been waiting all day for this. No, since yesterday. As soon as I achieved post-nut clarity, I wanted her again. I’ve barely been able to think about anything else.
“What are you doing?” she asks in a trembling voice once Easton takes her by the hand. She doesn’t put up any fight when he pulls her out of her chair, but does put her hands on her hips when he takes her place. “Excuse you. I was in the middle of something when you guys interrupted me. I can’t, like, drop everything because you decided you’re bored and want to bother me.”
“You talk too much,” I tell her, snickering at the disgusted looks she gives me. “I’m just saying. Maybe stop wasting time. We both know this is going to happen.”
“We all do,” Easton agrees, and he’s not joking around this time. “He’s right. So you come over here and show me what he taught you yesterday.” He gives his crotch a pointed look, then looks at her.
She draws a shaky breath before lifting her chin. “I guess it doesn’t matter that I really don’t want to do this?”
“A favor is a favor,” I tell her, shrugging. “You didn’t mind when Easton helped you out yesterday, did you? This is only fair.”
“There’s nothing fair about any of this,” she mutters… but she also gets on her knees, doesn’t she? Because she knows there is no fighting us.
“That’s right,” Easton whispers as he unbuttons his shorts, then lowers the zipper slowly. “Get me off. Nice and slow. Don’t rush it.”
