Page 40 of Little Liar
The emotion is pointless. I have an ugly green monster on my shoulder, angry about the guy even though I get to kiss Olivia whenever I want—when she comes to my room or I go to hers, her “lessons” getting more handsy by the night. My anger issues about Mom’s obsession to marry my sister off have been overshadowed by the joy I feel every time Olivia whimpers against my lips while riding my fingers like my own little whore.
Four times.
Five tonight, once everyone fucks off and leaves me alone with her. It never goes further than a fingering, despite what I signed to her the morning after that first night—that I wanted her to teach me how it felt to have her lips around my cock. She went out with Parker later that day—feels like she has been out with him fucking constantly—so I couldn’t make good on my threat, but every moment I’ve been able to steal since then, I’ve taken things are far as she’ll let me.
She still hasn’t touched me properly. She always grabs my dick through my shorts but never skin-on-skin or stroking me. Apparently, the lessons are aboutteachingme and not herdoingstuff to me, and I’m not going to argue, as much as I can’t wait to shove her to her knees and watch her eyes water from choking on my—
My thoughts are interrupted as another family walks down the side of the house, drawing a huff and a muttered “fucking hell” from my dad. My beer nearly cracks in my grip when I see my dad’s business partner, Victor Melrose, and his imbecile son, Parker. He’s a preppy asshole. Shaggy blond hair, clothes too big for him yet he thinks he’s a style icon. Looking like he smells of sweat from five days ago although he’s never lifted a weight in his life.
He’ll look so good covered in his own blood—still a dickhead but unmoving, unseeing, silent, dead. I’ll drag it out. Make sure he’s aware of his attacker and feel every bone snap while I engrave me and Olivia’s names into his skin before I remove that too.
His eyes are studying the yard and the pool. His father shoulders him and points to Olivia. She’s concerned and questioning the purple-haired girl she calls her best friend and spends a lot of time with.
I hate her too. I don’t like the immature influence she has on Olivia, but my gaze is pulled to the guy who thinks he can have my sister. The guy who, no matter how many times I threaten him, keeps appearing and getting on my fucking nerves.
His eyes clash with mine, and I see him paling before turning away.
I run my tongue across my teeth as Mason appears once more—he looks pissed, my gaze flicking to Abigail as she rolls her eyes and gives him the middle finger.
“I think she likes me,” he says even though he looks like someone shoved a knee against his nuts.I need to come over more often.
No he doesn’t. And he won’t. I’ll tell Olivia her friend is no longer welcome because I refuse to have our groups tangled up in drama.
Who’s the preppy guy?
I grit my teeth.Someone my sister might be marrying.
He snorts, smirking at the evil look in my eye. You wanna fuck him up?
I nod. Parker is three years older than me, four if you count the random few months because my birthday is before his, but I tower over him and have nearly two times the muscle mass. I could squash him like a bug within a minute.
Olivia hasn’t noticed Parker yet—she’s too busy gossiping with her friends and eye-fucking me when no one is looking. Her hair is down her back, halfway to her perky ass, and her bikini clings to her curves. I can’t stand the thought of everyone looking at her, including Parker.
Has he fucked my sister?
I look at him again, watching him push his hands into his slacks and laugh at something my mom says. To the left, my dad is drinking a non-alcoholic beer, scowling at the same person I am. His gaze moves over to me, then he glances at Parker again, his eyes darkening with a deadly glint.
Good. We both hate him.
That means he doesn’t have Dad’s approval. He’ll never get to marry her. But will he give me his blessing? Should I ask again, but this time tell them that we’re together and in love? That I’ll treat her right and make her happy?
Someone else appears at the party—they greet the Melrose family then my mom, and my heart pounds at the anticipation of fights breaking out.
I swear to fucking God, if Adam shows up, I’m blowing up this yard and everyone in it.
The party goes on for the next two hours. For 120 minutes, I scowl at Parker and the way he keeps attempting to get Olivia’s attention. She goes to the food table, dodging him when he says something to her, and then when she sits on the ledge of the pool, she jumps into the water when he tries to crouch beside her.
Good girl. At least I know she doesn’t like him.
His dad will be forcing him to approach her. Mom is openly flirting with the guy, her hand going to his chest while she laughs at something that isn’t even funny, and then whispers stuff in his ear. I go to stand beside my dad near the back door to the kitchenwhile Mason floats over to the cheerleaders to flirt with Abigail again.
“Your hooligan friend better not cause trouble,” he tells me. “I’m in no mood to beat the shit out of a teenager with more tattoos than my insolent son.”
Mason is twenty, but I don’t correct him.
I take a big gulp of my beer, not gracing him with any response. The fact I’m even standing beside him is good enough after he basically called me arrogant.
The sound of giggling has me glaring in the same direction as him.
