Page 5 of Beg for It
“Fucking knew you were a masochist.”
“I’m leaving.” I turn to exit the kitchen, throwing my hand up in a half-hearted goodbye.
“Blair Hanes.”
My feet stop.
I crane my head, narrowing my gaze. Evan’s stupid grin is back, wider than before.
Little shit knows when he has me.
He walks around the island, throwing his arm over my shoulders and leans in.
“Teia saw her at the salon on Bluebell like thirty minutes ago. Here, I screenshot the pic she sent.”
It’s a crap quality photo, but there’s no denying it’s Blair.
Fuck. I’d be able to recognize that girl in any crowd. I’d been obsessed with her from the moment I met her in ninth grade when I’d transferred to the town’s private high school after my mom got remarried. My new stepdad wanted me to attend the same school as his son, and my mom thought it was a great idea to get a fancier education. Little did she know it would be one of the worst decisions we ever made. My stepbrother hated me because he said my mom “broke up” his family—even though it was technically his mom who cheated on his dad first. But the kids at school rallied around Brett because he was one of those popular kids, and I was just the guy from the shit side of town.
Honestly, I’d never really given much of a fuck what they thought about me growing up. I’d had my gamer friends online and my best friend from middle school, Bash. Once we found our third musketeer, Felix, the three of us became the scariest motherfuckers in town by the time we reached senior year—most of that thanks to Bash and hishit-first, ask-questions-latertendencies.
Fitting in with the preppy kids had never been top on my to-do list.
Blair Hanes, though? Now, she was top of my to-dolist.
At first, she’d looked like every other vapid chick at school, caught up only in herself and what the social circles deemed worthy. But I saw the cracks, the goodness that bled out of her when none of her shitty friends were watching. She wasthe perfect pageant princess, surrounded by bitchy cheerleaders, bonehead jocks, and stuck-up student council members.
The flower among thorns.
At least, that was the case in high school.
According to the comments Blair leaves on my videos, it seems Little Miss Perfect isn’t as prim and proper as she pretended to be…and that makes my dick even harder.
It’s not like she knows it’s my account she’s thirsting over or my videos that she’s leaving what are basicallycome fuck mecomments, but that’s just semantics. Blair Hanes has spent the last twelve months unknowingly revealing her darker side to me. Taunting me with her words of desire and deprivation with each subsequent video.
BlairFlair:Forgot how to breathe for a second
BlairFlair:I’m in a lecture, sir, leave me alone
BlairFlair:Ur just sitting in a chair and I’m barking
BlairFlair:The things I’d let him do to meeeee
BlairFlair:Why is this video three hours long?
BlairFlair:Okay now tell me to crawl
BlairFlair:Choke me plssss
BlairFlair:I need therapy
The little princess doesn’t always comment, but when she does, you sure as fuck bet I see it. I still remember the first time I noticed one of her comments. It was during a live stream, and I just about lost my entire cool.
While her handle is different than her other socials, Blair doesn’t really try to hide that it’s her account. I also don’t think it’s ever occurred to her that one comment among five thousand would be easy to spot. Once I knew of her twisted little side hobby, I had Felix set up a code that alerted me to any of hercomments without me having to follow her back. I couldn’t give in to her that easily.
I’ve been tracking each of her comments, filing away every one of her desires. There is a monster inside me counting down the days until I crack and take her for myself. I try to restrain that beast because he has his own sick and dangerous kinks, and I don’t want to break Blair before she’s on her knees begging me for it.
Fuck. Now I’m thinking about Blair on her knees.
