Page 47 of Demon Loved
“Yeah,” Katrina replies stiffly, staring at her friend’s retreating back.
Once they’re gone, I immediately tangle myself around Katrina like some sort of spider monkey. Honestly, if I were a dog, this would be the part where I lift my leg and pee on her.
But I’m not a dog, and peeing on humans is gross.
I’ll do the equivalent with my cum, though, and that’ll have to suffice.
“What’s the matter, love?” Zolroth queries with a tiny smirk, one that says he understands what happened better than I do.
“She was totally flirting with him,” Katrina huffs as I continue to sniff at her hair. Hmmm. She smells fucking divine.
Though her pussy smells even better.
Honestly, I could die a happy man on my knees between her thighs.
“You never need to worry, my love,” Zolroth continues, his amusement evident in his voice. “The dumb fucker isn’t even aware of what’s going on right now.”
I’m pretty sure I’m the dumb fucker. Should I be insulted? Most definitely. Will I be? Maybe later, when Katrina isn’t around to calm me. I do have a new collection of knives I bought from the back of this man’s van at a playground.
“I know,” she says, sounding flustered. “I just…” She trails off as her eyes are drawn to something behind me. Her brows pinch, an adorable crease appearing between her eyes, as her mouth pops open. “What the fuck?”
With great reluctance, I pull myself away from where I was sniffing her ear—don’t fucking judge—and turn towards what captured her attention. It’s half because I’m curious and half because I’m jealous as fuck. I don’t like anyone outside of my murder capturing Katrina’s attention.
I quite literally see red when I see the fucker standing in the center of the room, capturing my girl’s gaze.
William fucking Washington.
The guy Katrina lusted over before she met us. And yes, I said lusted. I refuse to believe that she ever truly loved that prick.
Honestly, I’m as surprised as you are that I haven’t murdered him yet. One little slip of my hand…
William has a microphone in one hand and a guitar in the other, and he clears his throat, waiting until someone turns down the music.
“Hi,” he says with a bright grin, one that shows his stupidly perfect white teeth that I’m already envisioning painted with red. He begins to fiddle with the knobs on his guitar as his eyes roam over the room before stopping on Katrina.
My Katrina.
Oh yeah. This fucker’s dead.
I haven’t even realized I started singing “It’s Raining Men”again until Katrina nudges me in the stomach.
“In Mrs. Simson’s psychology class, we talked about taking risks. About putting ourselves out there,” he begins, and a few of the runts laugh softly, no doubt knowing what he’s babbling on about. “So I’m going to take the biggest risk yet.”
He locks his eyes on Katrina, as if the rest of the world doesn’t matter. As if she’s the only one he fucking sees.
“Katrina,” he begins huskily as one of his followers hurries forward with a mic stand. He clasps the microphone inside of it and begins to strum on his guitar. “I’m in love with you.”
Gasps resonate throughout the room, none more louder than Katrina’s. Her eyes are saucers in her face as she blinks rapidly.
Zolroth, beside our girl, exchanges a dark look with me over her head. Because fuck this shit.
“He can fucking sing,” Zolroth mutters under his breath. “What else can this bloody asswipe do?”
Katrina shakes her head slightly. “No,” she whispers. “He tried to sing in the talent show last year, and…well… He’s lucky he’s cute.”
Cute?!?
She thinks he’s fucking cute?!?
