Page 37 of Reckless at Westbrook High

She crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her chin, doing a helluva good job to mask her fear, but I don’t miss the clear flash of hesitation in her eyes before it’s gone, so quick I almost missed it. She knows I’d never hurt her – not physically, anyway – but she’s walking on dangerously thin ice here, and she doesn’t know me as well as she thinks she does.

Not anymore.

“I’m sleeping in here and there’s nothing you can do about i–”

A cruel laugh leaves me and I snatch her waist to toss her tiny little body over my shoulder, ignoring her screams while I walk her through to my bedroom.

Nothing I can do about it, she says.

Fucking please.

I grab what I need from the nightstand and carry her back to Callie’s old room, then I toss her down on the bed and straddle her waist, smirking when her eyes widen with a mixture of fear and excitement.

I probably shouldn’t fuck with her like this, but it’s hard not to when she makes it so damn easy for me.

“Is this what you want, Frey?” I tease, taking her wrists to slide her hands up above her head. “You want me to fill you up and make you scream? Drive you wild until you’re squeezing my cock with this tight little pussy?”

She nods, tipping her neck back for me while I dip my head to speak in her ear.

“Too fuckin’ bad.”

She tenses and I pull the duct tape from my pocket, lifting it to my mouth to rip a piece off with my teeth.

“What are you doing?!” she snaps, wiggling beneath me in a lame ass attempt to escape.

I ignore her and tape her wrists to the headboard, sitting back on her thighs to appreciate my handiwork. Her tank’s ridden up some, showing off a little strip of her soft, flat stomach, and her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, her tits pushed up to her collarbone due to the position of her arms above her head. A small piece of her light blond hair falls over her naturally pretty face and I brush it out of the way, dropping my eyes to her lips while I run my thumb over her cheek.

I’m not an idiot, I know she’s beautiful, but even now with her tight little body taped up and trapped beneath mine, horny as fuck and mine to do with as I fucking please, she does nothing for me.

Her brows dip like she knows it and I smirk, climbing off her to move for the door. “Sleep tight, little pixie.”

“Wren, wait!” she screams, thrashing on the bed like a fish out of water. “Oh my god, don’t you dare leave me like this!”

I laugh lightly and turn to face her, not even bothering to hide my amusement while I slide my eyes over her restrained body. “Or what?”

She growls and I flick the lights off, closing the door behind me before I walk back to my room. I toss the duct tape on my nightstand and grab my weed, heading back out to the balcony to retake my seat on the couch. I roll myself another joint and drop my head back to look at the stars again, sighing when it hits me.

Three down, forever to go.

Chapter Twelve

Wren

“Wren!”

I swear to fucking god she better be dying.

“Wren!”

I punch my pillow and throw the covers away, jumping up to pull my sweats on before I move to give this annoying little bitch something to cry about. I swing my bedroom door open and walk down the hall, finding my sister in law standing in the open doorway of Freya’s bedroom with an evil ass smirk on her face.

No wonder she’s fucking screaming.

Callie looks at me and leans back against the doorframe, casually filing her nails with what I can only describe as a miniature sword.

“What is that?”

“My nail file,” she says simply, sliding her eyes over me and my form. “You look like shit.”

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