“Shit. Galen is heading this way,” she confirms as I read the same message.
“At least, I got three of them installed. I’ll get into Caz’s room another time.” I loop my arm through hers, and we head downstairs, passing a grumpy-looking Galen on the stairs. He ignores us, and we ignore him, and that suits me just fine.
“Why is he always so crabby?” she asks when we hit the bottom of the stairs and he’s disappeared upstairs.
“Who knows.” I shrug.
“It must be in his DNA.”
“He wasn’t that ill-tempered as a kid,” I say, remembering that time we met as clearly as if it was yesterday. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s to do with his home life. His mom turned into an out-and-out junkie after his sister died, and then, her husband overdosed a couple years later.”
“That’s no fucking excuse,” she hisses, and I rub her arm in understanding. Sariah lost her entire family, and it hasn’t turned her into a cruel, moody bitch. “Everyone has shit to deal with.”
“I’m not making excuses for him, and you’re right. There are plenty of people with troubled or dysfunctional backgrounds and they’re not assholes like Galen Lennox.”
My friends leave a short while later, and I wander into the kitchen to grab a snack to bring to my room. I avoid going through the living room where things are pretty out of control, and I go nowhere near the orgy room for fear of what I might find.
Remembering Saint pressed up against me, and the feel of his hands on my body, has me horny and pissed, and it’s not a good combination. Briefly, I consider joining the party and finding someone to fuck, but it’d be selfish to bring the wrath of The Sainthood down on some innocent just because I want to get laid.
I guess it will be my purple electric friend and porn for me tonight.
I make a sandwich, grab a bottle of beer and a bottle of water, and walk out to the hallway.
My eyes drink in the scene awaiting me with interest as I approach the stairs.
Caz is halfway up the steps, with his back stuck to the wall, as he fends off the advances of some young kid. She is wearing the skimpiest dress, and she’s plastered in makeup, but it’s obvious she’s real young. She can’t be any older than fifteen, max.
She’s pawing at him like he’s hers to do with as she pleases, and he’s struggling to shake her off in his inebriated state. Which is pretty fucking hilarious if you think about it, because it’s like the Hulk facing off against Thumbelina, and he could stomp on her without any effort. For a split second, I consider leaving him there. But I intervene for the girl’s sake. She’s way too young to get caught up in their shit.
“Hey, jailbait.” I call out to her as I climb the stairs. “Get lost before I call your parents.”
She glares at me. “Fuck off, ho, and mind your own business.”
Wow.
I walk past them and up to the top of the stairs, setting my plate and the two bottles down. Then, I calmly retrace my steps, taking the girl by the arm and physically pulling her off Caz. She lets loose a string of colorful expletives. “I’m doing you a favor,” I say, dragging her down the stairs screaming. “He’s one of the Saints, and you can’t manhandle him like that. Not unless you’ve got a fucking death wish.”
“Get off me, you jealous bitch.” She wriggles in my arms as we reach the lobby.
“Think whatever you want,” I say, opening the front door. “But this is my house, and you’re no longer welcome.” I shove her outside. “Say hi to the Paw Patrol for me.” She flips me the bird as I slam the door in her face.
Caz chuckles. “Paw Patrol?”
“It’s a popular kids’ show,” I confirm, walking up the stairs to meet him. “These kids I used to babysit were hooked on it. Mind you, they were only four and five, so I doubt she appreciates my comment.” I shrug, uncaring if I offended the little minx. She’ll thank me for it one day.
He strokes the hard-on in his pants. “I knew she was too fucking young, but try telling that to my cock.”
I slap his chest, and I almost break a bone against the rock-hard wall of muscle I meet. “Jailbait wouldn’t have sated your needs,” I purr, pushing my chest against his. “But I sure as hell can.”
The heated look he gives me confirms he’s down with this plan, but the conflict in his eyes says I’ll need to try harder. I palm his dick through his jeans. “Unless you don’t want my lips wrapped around your cock while I play with your balls and finger your ass?” I tease.
“Jesus, fuck.” He grabs my butt, pulling me in tight against his erection as his eyes drop to my mouth. “I’m horny as hell, and I never got to drill your cunt the last time. I’m game, babe, but Saint will rip me a new one if I touch you.”
I scoff, outlining the shape of his dick through the denim with my finger. “One, he’s constantly telling me I belong to the almighty Saints, and two, you always let that asshole cockblock you?” I unbutton his jeans and slip my hand inside, my brows climbing to my hairline as my fingers meet hot flesh. “Commando, huh?” I say, impressed, as I begin stroking him.
“Aw, fuck. Stop,” he mumbles. It’s a pathetic effort, and we both know it.
I snicker. “If you’d said that like you meant it, I might’ve taken pity on you.”
I wouldn’t.
He’s horny, and he wants me, and I’m horny, and I want him too. It’s been a while since I had a release, and I know he’s a good lay. We can get off, and I can stick two fingers to Saint while I’m at it.
Win-win, if you ask me.
“We’re not allowed to fuck girls without the others,” he confirms, and I nearly fall down the stairs in shock.
I know they like to share, but I didn’t think they had strict rules. That seems extreme and unfair; although maybe, it’s a rule to stop anyone from catching feelings. To ensure no girls interfere with gang business. Sounds like something Neo might’ve introduced, considering how my mom fucked him over back in the day.
“And it’s you,” he cryptically adds. “He’ll chop my cock off for sure if he finds out.”
Now, I’m even more determined to screw him. I pump him harder, and he thrusts his hips into my hand, moaning as he rocks back and forth, and I know I have him by the balls.
Literally.
Keeping my hand wrapped around his cock, I stretch up and kiss the corner of his mouth. “It can be our little secret.” I slide my hand down his dick and fondle his balls, silently high-fiving myself when his eyes roll back in his head. I kiss the other corner of his mouth. “Saint never has to know.”
If Caz wasn’t as stoned or as drunk as he is right now, I would never get away with this. But he’s aching and desperate, and it’s no secret guys are ruled by their dicks. I unbutton his jeans fully, free his cock, and dip my head down, laving my tongue against the precum beading at the tip of his crown.
“Sweet fucking Jesus. Do that again.”
I give him a quick lick before straightening up. I’m not doing this on the stairs and risking Saint coming along and putting a stop to it.
My pussy is thoroughly invested now, and I need to fuck him. I tuck his cock back in his jeans, take his hand, and pull him up the stairs, passing by my sandwich and drinks. I’m a different kind of hungry now, so I leave my food behind without a second glance.