Page 18 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)
Missing something, Sticks? No surprise you’d need this — who wants to touch a girl with sticks for legs? It’s no wonder your boyfriend cheated on you.
Ouch.
I don’t let his insult wound me for too long. Instead, I crumple the piece of paper and throw it in the trash before smoothing out my shirt and walking through the kitchen, past the rest of my housemates who are now eyeing me with a little more twinkle in their eyes.
Except for Evan. He’s trying to hold back vomit.
His hand grips my forearm to stop me from squeezing past him. “Let me guess? Stone?”
I shrug. “Just some roommate drama. Don’t worry about it, big brother.”
The one person who should be worrying is Stone. I know how to rise to a challenge and play games.
And he should know better than anyone that I can play dirty.
* * *
There arelights shining through the bedroom window from a car driving down the street, and by the sound of the bass, I know it’s Stone. He always blared his music in high school when coming to Evan’s house, and I see that nothing much has changed. I recognize the song ‘Burnin’ For You’and tap along to the beat underneath the covers with my vibrator glued to my other hand.
I’ll admit, my little plan for tonight sounded a lot better this morning when I was simmering with anger over what Stone had done, but I don’t give up easily, and there is no way I am retreating when it comes to him. What he did was totally uncalled for.
Granted, placing drugs on his truck in high school teetered between unjust and impartial, but at least I had a good reason.
He’s just being an asshole. He is still that same haughty, cocky, superior boy from two years ago who enjoyed inflicting misery on my life.
A door shuts downstairs, and heat races to my fingertips. There’s a delicious twist in between my legs at the thought of doing this in front of Stone, but I’m blaming that on the excitement of irritating him. There is a chance my plan will backfire, but either way, I’ll piss Stone off, and that is the most important thing at the moment.
My breath is trapped between my lips, and my chest is full of unshed oxygen. I hear him talking to one of the guys down the hall about their practice. They all got home before him, and knowing Stone, he stayed late to practice more because he justhasto be the best.
“Yeah, I’ll meet you downstairs at 6, man.”
My eyes are open, and his tall, shadow-like form stands in the door. I can’t see if he’s scowling, but I have a pretty good imagination.
“Get up.” It’s not a request.
“I won’t get up,” I say. “But I sure will get off.”
I smile deviously and press the button the very second he shuts the door and flicks the light on, showing off that stupid scowl of his.
Game on, Foster.
CHAPTER8
STONE
Buzzing fills the room.
I glare at Wren, her lower half concealed under a blanket—my fucking blanket—as her eyes roll back in her head.
“Fuck,” she groans. “This feels so much better than you could dream of doing.”
My heart kickstarts, and before I can think better of it, I stride forward and try to rip the fucking blanket off the bed. She’s got a hold of it, though, and it only goes down enough to reveal her bare knees. She keeps the other part firmly covering the apex of her legs…where her hand is undoubtedly wrapped around the base of the pink vibrator, her panties pulled to the side. If she’s even wearing panties.
“Nice try.” She laughs. It’s raspy, her pleasure overriding her humor.
If there’s one thing in the goddamn world I shouldnotbe doing, it’s watching her masturbate.
“Get out,” she says, an echo of my order. “So I can get off in peace.”