You looked so fucking cute, sitting there concentrating. Where the fuck did that come from? I hadnât even realized Iâd said it out loud until I saw the redness rise in her cheeks. On the other hand, flirting with her and making her uncomfortable was by far becoming my newest and most favorite source of entertainment.
Since she started eating Preppyâs cooking, it only took a couple of days for Pup to pack on some weight. The additional few pounds had done amazing things for her figure. Her sunken cheeks were a little fuller and somehow made her appear even more innocent and cherub-like. Her tits and ass were rounder and begging to be touched even more so than before. She had the body of a woman and the face of an angel and I was constantly walking around like a thirteen year old who had to keep adjusting himself to hide his raging hard-on.
The truth was I didnât bother her while she was sketching because I didnât want her to move, and I was perfectly content to just sit and stare at her all night. But then, she would cross and uncross her legs while biting her lip, and all I could think about was how I wanted to be the one to bite that lip. How wet I could make her between those legs.
I didnât get up from my stool after Neil left because I was afraid sheâd look up from her sketch and see my cock standing at attention through my jeans. If she were any other chick, I would draw her attention to it, but I didnât want to send her running into the other room. I already felt her fighting off whatever attraction she had for me. The horrible truth of the matter is that I didnât want to scare her away.
Because I actually liked having her around.
Somewhere, somehow, my anger towards her had turned to some sort of fucked-up affection.
Which I had to put a stop to right a fucking away, because any sort of feelings for her other than contention and lust would only get in the way of the plans I had for her.
She was afraid of me. That much was obvious, but there was a fire there, too, and the more she fought it, the more it turned me on.
The way her body reacted to me told me that there was only so long she could resist the inevitable. The inevitable being me fucking her until she couldnât remember her own name.
Itâs not like she knew it anyway.
But I did.
An unfamiliar nagging feeling tugged at my gut.
Guilt maybe?
I brushed it off. There wasnât time to entertain any feelings of guilt. A better opportunity to get Max back was not going to just fall into my lap like this again. And in the meantime, I was going to spend my time with her as I pleased. In her case, that meant doing everything I had to make her warm, wet, and willing.
âBoss-man!â Preppy shouted, bounding into my studio with his pupils dilated, forgetting to blink like heâd just snorted blow by the fucking truck full.
âWhatâs up, Prep?â I asked, putting the finishing touches on the tattoo Pup had sketched for me. After I saw it, I needed it on my skin, immediately and permanently and for the life of me I didnât know why. But after it was done, I felt like a weight was lifted.
âWhat the fuck is that?â Preppy asked, pointing to the back of my hand. I wiped off the excess ink and blood and held it up so he could see.
âItâs a tattoo, dumb-ass. Or did you forget what it is I do in this room?â
âI know itâs a tattoo, fucker. I just wanted to know why you were tattooing yourself right now.â
âYouâve seen me do it a hundred times so whatâs the fucking big deal?â I barked, not liking Preppyâs third degree.
âWhat exactly is it?â he asked, leaning over my shoulder as I put a layer of plastic wrap over the top.
âItâs nothing. Pup drew it. What exactly is it you wanted?â I hated being short with him, but I wasnât about to answer questions I myself didnât exactly know the answers to.
âI came to tell you two things actually. One is that Bear called, and he overheard his dad talking. Isaacâs coming to town. Heâs not sure when, just knows heâs coming. Got eyes on him though. He hasnât left Dallas yet.â The MC had a long-standing relationship with our former primary source of weed.
âAnd?â
âAND Iâm pretty sure heâs probably a little pissed the fuck off that we cut him out as our supplier.â
âI was locked up, and he didnât want to deal with anyone but me. If he expected us to just do nothing until I got out, that was his mistake. We saw opportunity. We seized it. End of story.â
âYeah man, thatâs the way you and I see it. But Bear overheard his dad saying that Issac sees it more like a kick to his balls that he wants to pay back to us a thousand times over.â
âIâm not hiding from Isaac, or anyone else. If he wants to talk to me, he knows where the fuck I live. Now, whatâs the other thing you wanted to tell me?â I snapped.
âDude, youâre so fucking moody since you got out. Youâre like a bitch on the rag twenty-four hours a day. The second thing I wanted to tell you is that Iâm going to take Doe out on a date Saturday night.â
âYouâre going to fucking WHAT?â I suddenly wished my tattoo gun was a real one because with that one sentence, Preppy was walking into dangerous fucking territory.
âSheâs cool as shit, so Iâm going to take her out. Maybe, a movie or something. The drive-in is playing some scary paranormal thing, and chicks fucking love that shit. Makes âem all cuddly,â Preppy said, hugging himself with his arms.
âLike fuck you are.â Not only was he not taking her out, I got the impression that scary wasnât exactly Doeâs favorite genre. The girlâs been scared enough in real life.
âDude, Iâm not going to fuck her. Unless thatâs cool with you. In which case, I will most definitely fuck her.â
I stood from my stool. It rolled back and crashed against the wall. âNot. A Fucking. Chance.â The thought of his hands on her made my stomach twist.
âYou donât even like her,â he barked. âBesides, you donât know anything about her. And thatâs your fault because she may not know a lot about herself, but the little she does know you havenât even bothered to ask her about.â
He had a point, but Preppy didnât know that there was a reason for that, and I planned to keep that reason to myself for the time being.
âWhat exactly would you like for me to talk to her about? Because the where do you come from, whatâs your name, thing doesnât exactly apply in her case.â
Preppy huffed and linked his fingers together behind his neck. âI donât know. You could ask her something simple, like maybe, how she likes her sandwiches or something.â
âSandwiches. You want me to ask her about sandwiches?â
âWhy the fuck not? Everyone likes a delicious sandwich, and talking about them is better than talking about the heavy shit you seem to be carrying around these days.â
This is why Preppy was my best friend. He saw right through me.
âI know Max is important. I know we need to get her back, but until then, you still have a life to live, man. And talking to the girl, who for all intents and purposes is living in our house, isnât going to get in the way of that.â
Thatâs what you think.
âHave you even fucked her yet? I mean, the chick sleeps in your bed and shit. What the fuck is that all about?â
âThatâs none of your fucking business,â I warned. He was crossing a line.
He rolled his eyes. âIâll take that as a no. Maybe, thatâs why youâve been so fucking grumpy since you got out. Maybe you just need to get some ass. Get laid. Get all up in there before your dick shrivels up and falls the fuck off.â
âIâve gotten laid since Iâve gotten out, so shut the fuck up about it. This isnât about liking her or about fucking her. This is about me saying NO and you listening to me for once!â
âKing, youâve been my best friend since the dinosaurs roamed the earth, so listen to me when I tell you that you look at her like you want to fuck her brains out, but you treat her like sheâs garbage under your shoe. Itâs not cool, man. Youâre the one who decided to keep her here, which wasnât the brightest idea to begin with, so let me have a little fun with her for fuckâs sake.â
âThis is about a debt that needs to be paid,â I said, unconvincingly.
âOh come on! We both know she didnât take anything. And since when is it up to you to dole out life lessons on who needs to pay for what? You some kind of life coach now? Besides, sheâs not your property. Sheâs a person, not a fucking car.â
âThatâs rich coming from you.â Iâve witnessed Preppy doing things that made even my skin crawl, but if he was going to throw my shit in my face, then I was going to throw his shit in his.
âSeriously, she isnât yours. You canât just take her.â
âYes, she is mine, and I did just take her. She sleeps in my bed, doesnât she? Next to me. I may not have fucked her, but it was me she turned to when she wanted to get off the other night, and me who gave her what she needed. So no, I havenât fucked her, yet. But the answer is still no, you canât fucking take her out,â I said through gritted teeth, I could feel my veins tighten as my blood pressure sky-rocketed.
Preppy cocked his head to the side and smiled. A recognition of some sort settled over his face. âWell, sheâs not my property. Sheâ s my friend. So, if I canât take her out, then you have to take her. Iâm not doing this for me. Iâm doing it for her. Sheâs been through some shit, and we both know what thatâs like. The kid deserves a break. A little fucking fun.â
âFuck no. Iâm not going to fucking date her. And this isnât up for debate. No date. No nothing. Just fucking drop it.â For the first time in my life, I felt like punching Preppy. Heâs never coaxed that kind of anger from me before.
âMan, get your fucking head out of your ass. Sheâs just a confused kid. Either you take her, or you let me take her. I may call you Boss-Man, but weâre friends, and that doesnât mean you can make all my decisions for me. You may call the shots, but Iâm still my own person. Iâm not asking you here. Iâm telling you.â
âFine!â I shouted. Throwing my arms up in the air. âTake her out on a fucking date. What the fuck do I care anyway? Go! Have a fucking blast!â
I sat back down on my stool and pretended to fiddle with my equipment. Why the fuck I was getting so riled up to begin with was beyond me.
Maybe, Iâd just forgotten how to interact with people who werenât wearing orange jumpsuits or correctional officer uniforms.
âAwesome!â Preppy hopped from one foot to the other. âIâm going to go iron my good bow tie.â
âPrep?â
âYeah, Boss-Man?â
âItâs six in the fucking morning.â
âAnd?â
âYou want to take her out on Saturday right?â
âYeah.â
âItâs Monday.â
âAh.â
âSo how about you go wipe the fucking blow from under your nose and get some fucking sleep. Iron your good bow tie tomorrow.â Preppy may not have to listen to me, but the need to tell him what to do would never go away.
Iâd forgotten while I was away that Preppy was one hell of a partier.
We both were.
Or, I used to be.
Before Max.
Before prison.
Before her.
Preppy wiped the powder from under his nostrils and rubbed it onto his gums.
âYes, sir,â Preppy said with a mock salute. He turned to leave.
âAnd Prep?â I called out.
âYeah, Boss?â he asked, stopping mid-stride.
âYouâre taking her out as her friend only. You got that?â
âI got that.â
âGood. Because if you so much as touch her, Iâll fucking kill you.â