Sick Boys: Chapter 42

I tap my foot and sigh out loud as I stare at the Alpha Psi sorority house, waiting for a certain someone to finally walk out the front door.

She’s taking forever, and I don’t fucking like waiting around out on the streets. It’s too obvious, too easy to become a target.

Impatiently, I check my watch, wondering how much longer she’ll be. I wasn’t even going to go to this dinner party to begin with, but Dylan practically begged me to come so his parents wouldn’t hurt him.

And I can’t ever resist a bit of groveling.

Clearing my throat, I lean against the side of the car.

The window rolls down, and Dylan sticks his head out. “Any sign yet?”

“Nope.”

“If we don’t make it on time, my mom’s gonna kill me,” Dylan says. “You know that right?”

“Go buy a coffin, then,” I reply.

“Dude, really?” Dylan scoffs, adjusting his sunglasses. “Can’t you call Pen or something?” he asks.

I fold my arms and casually lean back. “Can’t you?”

He makes a smug face. “It’s against the law to use your phone while driving.”

Since when the fuck does he care about the law?

One of these days, my fist is going to meet his smug jaw again and knock out some teeth.

When the door to the sorority building finally opens, we both look up.

“My God …” Dylan mutters, lowering his sunglasses.

Out steps Penelope, her hair curled up into a bun with loose hairs framing her face, lips in a dark-red hue, her eyes smoky and dark.

Dark enough to appease my blackened soul.

The corner of my lip slowly inches into a smirk as she steps out onto the porch in a Victorian-looking bordeaux-colored dress with black lace on top, platform pumps, and a black teardrop choker around her neck.

That was definitely worth the wait.

“If it isn’t perfection herself,” Dylan says, licking his lips.

I press the button inside his car so the window rolls up again.

“Don’t be like that,” he snarls.

“Stop drooling,” I growl back.

Now Alistair’s window rolls down. “Beautiful.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Since when do you like her so much?”

“Since you don’t pay attention,” Dylan says.

I avert my eyes again as I have much better things to look at that carry the name Penelope. Though the way she’s dressed now, it feels like whore would be a much more fitting name.

My whore. And no one else’s.

Well, maybe these two clowns here in the car. If they behave.

“Penelope,” I say as she approaches me.

“Felix,” she replies, her brows rising in a fucking arrogant way.

And even though I hate to admit it, it looks good on her.

“You look …”

“Nice?” she fills in for me.

“Appetizing.”

Her cheeks grow redder than the blush she applied.

But I doubt she realizes we can all see.

Dylan suddenly opens his door and steps out when she’s only a couple of feet away. He shoves me aside and grabs the passenger door handle, throwing it open wide while holding out his hand. “Your personal carriage awaits, milady.”

My nostrils twitch as I turn to smack his hand away from the door.

Penelope grins. “How chivalrous,” she murmurs as she gets inside and turns to look at him. “Almost makes me forget how vulgar you are.”

Dylan’s face slowly unravels, and it’s the most majestic sight I’ve ever seen to the point that it makes me laugh.

Rarely anything ever makes me laugh. Not since …

Dylan slams the door shut. “Slut.”

“I can hear you,” she retorts through the window.

“Good,” he adds.

“You gonna sit down too, or do I have to shove your ass back inside?” I tell him.

He raises his hands. “Fine, fine. Jealous much?”

“Of that interaction?” I snort. “Hardly.”

He sits behind the wheel while I park myself next to him and shut the door.

Behind me, Penelope seems befuddled by the other girl in the back seat while Alistair sits between them.

“Um … you didn’t tell me we weren’t alone,” Penelope says as Dylan starts the car and drives off. “Who’s this?”

Giggling erupts from the other side of the car, and my eyes instinctively draw to the noise. “Lana. Be nice.” I glance at her through the rearview mirror, and she looks right back at me with that same familiar stare.

She bites her lip in defiance. “I’m always nice.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Just as I’m always nice, right?”

She rolls her eyes and blows a bubble with some of that awful bubblegum. “You wish.”

“This is Penelope. She’s—”

“A friend,” Penelope interjects.

My eye twitches.

I don’t like how she made that sound.

Penelope reaches out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Lana.”

“Want some gum?” Lana offers.

“Oh, thanks, that’s nice of you,” Penelope says.

“Don’t do it,” Alistair mutters, eyeing her. “It’s poisoned.”

“Wait, what?” Penelope stammers.

Lana shoves her elbow into Ali’s side, making him grunt in pain. “Of course not, asshole.”

Penelope snorts as Lana gives her a piece of gum. “I like you already.”

This fucking conversation.

I roll my eyes.

“Same, girl,” Lana says as Penelope begins to chew on the gum.

Dylan swerves through the streets while Lana curls her long black hair around her finger, taking care not to coil her red ribbon that’s attached at the top. “I take it you’re railing my brother, then?”

Penelope’s eyes widen, and she almost chokes on the gum, swallowing it down.

“Lana,” I sneer, warning her with a look.

Lana makes a rude hand gesture. “What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” I growl.

“Fuck that. Family’s always my business.” She crosses her arms and looks out the window.

“Okay, well, that went amazing,” Alistair jokes.

“Don’t fucking start a fight now. I’m trying to drive,” Dylan barks.

“God, I hate that I have to even go to this stupid fucking dinner,” Lana says, rolling her eyes. “I have a giant fucking test tomorrow morning, and now I’m gonna have to stay up late to study.”

“Then why did you come?” I retort.

She raises her brows. “Do you really not know the answer?”

“And here I thought you wanted to spend some quality family time,” I respond.

She throws out a stilted laugh. “With your friends? Good one.”

“I thought you liked me,” Dylan pouts.

“Dylan, I like you, but please ask your mom not to invite the whole fucking friends list next time,” she replies. “Fucking please.”

“Lana …” I warn her. “That’s enough.”

Her nostrils flare, and she looks away again, curling her finger around her long black hair. “Fine.”

As the car continues to drive, everyone in the back sits with their legs together like they’re afraid to even touch. And I’ve never in my life had a more uncomfortable car trip than this one.

When we finally reach our destination, Lana throws the car door open and pertinently steps out, slamming it shut behind her.

The fucking attitude of that girl will be the end of me one day.

I stare at Penelope through the rearview mirror.

“That’s your sister?” she asks.

“Not by choice, or he would’ve picked a different one,” Dylan jests, and I shove my elbow into his guts until he coughs wildly.

“Okay, I’ll see you inside,” he splutters, opening the car door.

Penelope just gives me an awkward look before she too gets out.

“Well … that was awkward,” Alistair muses.

“Thanks,” I say, as I get out too and leave him alone in the car.

Penelope adjusts her dress and checks her makeup in a tiny mirror she fished out of her clutch. “So your sister, huh? Damn, you two are like peas in a pod.”

I stop in my tracks and turn around, frowning, “What did you just say?”

She shrugs. “That arrogance and the temper …”

I shove her against the car and plant a flat hand against the metal, blocking her way out. “I do not have a temper,” I growl.

She smirks in my face.

Actually fucking smirks.

And it makes me want to punch the fucking car … and kiss her at the same time.

“Told you,” she says.

I grab her throat with my free hand, squeezing around her veins until she struggles to breathe. “If you dish it out, better be prepared for the consequences, Pen,” I whisper, leaning in to lick her neck. “Are you ready for that?”

“Won’t change facts,” she mutters through her gasps.

“My sister is nothing like me.”

She snorts. “I’ve known her for two seconds, and I’ve seen all I need to know.”

My grip on her throat tightens, and I can feel her heartbeat slow down, her eyes struggling to stay open, and the sight gets me hard as hell.

And we haven’t even gotten to the fucking dinner party yet.

“You’re a masochist, aren’t you?” I murmur near her ear. “You like the humiliation and pain.”

The more I push my fingers into her veins, the softer her posture becomes until her head tilts back and her thighs spread, yielding to my body as if she turns to mush.

So I slide my hand down the car and snake it down her legs instead, creeping underneath her dress until I find that spot that makes her shiver. And I don’t even need a fucking answer from her mouth anymore. Her body tells the truth.

“And you’re a fucking sadist,” she says when I finally release the pressure a little.

My fingers are still clasped around her neck as I lean in close enough to feel her breath become more ragged with each encroaching inch. And it’s like fucking cocaine sniffed straight into my brain. Addictive.

“A sadist you fucking love to be used by,” I say, my lips hovering close to hers. “And if you don’t watch your mouth, I will stick my fingers inside your fucking pussy right here out in the streets.”

Her jaw drops. “You wouldn’t.”

My lip twitches. “Wanna bet?”

“Guys? You coming, or what?” Dylan calls from the gates to the property his parents own.

There goes the fucking moment.

“Coming,” I growl, without ever taking my eyes off hers, and then whisper, “And you will too before this night is over.”

I push myself off her and march to the gate, leaving her in a puddle of her own wetness.

Just like she deserves.