Page 38 of Seduction

“You know I hate waiting,” I whine as we pass the bathrooms. “Shit, I have to use the bathroom.”

He chuckles, pulling me into his side to kiss me gently.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says, and I smile at him before running into the washroom.

I don’t take stock of who is in here, just running into a stall and locking it before doing my lady business.

When I’m done, I give a silent sigh of relief. I knew I needed to use the washroom halfway through our final class, but by the time it was over, had completely forgotten about it. Then I saw the washrooms, and it was like my bladder was waving a giant red flag at me. I really need to pay more attention to my body.

Moving out of the stall, I walk to the sink and turn the tap on, washing my hands as three girls step behind me, and I’m instantly on guard. It has to be Amber and her bitch posse, which means they were in here before I flew in like an ungraceful wild thing.

“Oh look, it’s the slut. What’s it like, knowing your vagina is stretched from too much use from being the community whore?” she asks, her voice a sickeningly high pitch that grates on my nerves.

Rolling my eyes, I shut off the tap and reach for a paper towel to dry my hands before tossing it into the garbage can.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I wouldn’t know.” I shrug, about to go in for the kill. “I know I’m tight, and Corden never has any complaints. Says I’m the best he’s ever had.” I smile sweetly at her as she gets angry.

I know it’s a lie. Cord and I haven’t actually had sex or anything, but I already know I mean more to him than this bitch.

She wants to talk about a loose pussy? Hers is like a fucking clown car. Lots of dicks go in and out, but you’re always amazed by how many can fit at one time.

“You bitch!” she hisses at me, stepping closer, and her girls do the same. “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you?” She pushes against me.

I pretend to think about it for a moment, sliding my hands into my back jean pockets where I put my knife today. Not that I think I will need it, but you never know with this bitch. She’s already tried to have me drugged and raped. I’m not putting anything past her.

“Yeah. I think I’m pretty smart. What about you? Is that why you’re intimidated by me? Because I’m smartandI stole your man?”

I know I shouldn’t antagonize her, but I’m still pissed and angry that she brought my dad up last week. This crack-pot-bitch knows something, and I want to cut the truth out of her. I can’t, so I’m settling for being a little petty.

“I hate you because you ruined fucking everything!” she screeches at me, lifting her hand to slap me.

I move faster than she does though, whipping my knife out and opening it up between us.

“I ruined nothing,” I state, calmly playing with my knife between us where she froze at the sight of it.

Her friends have taken a few steps back, clearly not willing to be stabbed for their friend.

“You have no idea how much trouble you’ve caused,” she seethes, looking down at my blade. “You’re not going to use that,” she says, more like a question than a statement.

She’d be an idiot not to be at least a little weary. I am claimed by the Deadly Seven, after all.

She’s the mayor’s daughter. I bet she knows just what my guys do, and the reputation they have. They’re just too good at not leaving evidence and can’t be brought down.

“Are you sure about that, Amber?” I ask, lifting the blade up to caress it fondly.

Fuck, Creed would be so hard for me right now. I giggle at the idea of him being here to watch this.

“What the fuck is so funny, whore?” She glares at me, and I shrug as she takes a tentative step closer to me. Like she thinks she can actually get the drop on me if she’s close enough.

If she only knew how close I was to gutting her little boy toy at that Halloween party.

“You want to be close to my guys again?” I ask, and her eyes narrow at me before she steps right into my space, her hand going for my throat.

In a quick move, I spin her around and push her against the sink, the knife to her throat. Her shaking is the only sign that I’ve actually scared her, but she doesn’t let it show.

I think she has more training in dangerous situations than I gave her credit for.

“I will have them back. They won’t stick around for some chick who can’t stop crying over her missing Daddy,” she mocks, but her breath catches when I press the knife deeper into her throat. I’m close to breaking the skin now, and I think I might love to see her bleed out. Just a little.

---