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She shakes her head. “I’m fine, I normally just have a green juice for breakfast, I’ll get something later.”
My lips turn down into a scowl. “No.”
“No?” she echoes back at me, confusion making her brow furrow.
“No, I’m ordering breakfast, so you’ll eat with me. You’re skin and bone, you need some proper food in you,” I growl.
“I can’t eat anything here. Do you know how many calories are in the food they serve here?” Her voice goes up as she finishes speaking and I can almost taste her panic.
“Priss, you can eat whatever you want, you don’t have an ounce of fat on you. If anything, you’re too skinny. Order a proper fucking breakfast so we can sit down and eat together before we talk.”
Her eyes dart to the menu, widening a little, while she shakes her head. “Mom never let us have carbs, I’ve never eaten most of this food,” she says a little shakily.
My lips part to call bullshit, then I remember Tally saying she only ate pizza for the first time when she went to visit family last summer, that their mom said they’d get fat. “I’ll get us a bit of everything, you can see what you like and I’ll eat the rest, I’m a growing boy,” I say with a wink. “Juice, coffee, or both?”
“Juice please,” she says meekly, and for the hundredth time this morning I want to punch Vanessa Archibald in the face for being such a cunt. I wish I knew which version of Carrigan was the real one. Is she the docile girl or the conniving, Machiavellian woman?
I order a mix of food; pancakes, waffles, breakfast burritos, eggs, hash browns, sausage patties, and lots of bacon. More food than we could ever eat, but I don’t care. Right now I want her to gorge herself on greasy, fatty foods, the stuff that tastes so nice because you know how bad it is for you.
Driving to the marina I pull to a stop in the parking lot opposite my boat. Priss doesn’t wait for me to open her door this time, and I smile to myself as she climbs from my car, her new pink sneakers sparkling in the early morning sunshine. Despite the shopping and the stop for food, it’s only just after seven and the marina is empty but for a few early risers making the most of a full day on the water.
Handing the bags of food to Priss, I slide the gangplank down onto the pier and secure it in place, then take the food from her and gesture for her to lead the way. More confidently than I expect, she climbs aboard and waits for me on the deck.
“Inside or out?”
“Can anyone hear us out here?” she asks.
“I doubt it, but I suppose if there’s anyone on the other boats they might. Inside would definitely be more private.”
“Inside then please, I’d rather no one overhear us,” she says, her voice timid, her body language so different than her normal superior poise.
“Okay then,” I say, pulling my keys from my pocket and quickly unlocking the galley door, gesturing for her to move ahead of me and go inside.
Watching her take in the luxurious interior of my boat, I enjoy the way her eyes roam around the space. I love this yacht, it’s my escape, my freedom, and the thing that makes me happiest in the world. My parents are awesome, but they suffer from serious wanderlust and more than a few months in one place has them itching for the next big adventure. They always want to try a new town or country, and as a kid that meant me and my brother packing up and going with them every time they decided to move. Since starting St Augustus, I put my foot down and refused to drop everything and travel with them at their whims, this boat is my only throwback to that transient life. It doesn’t matter that I only sail on this lake, it’s big enough that the open water feels limitless when I’m out there.
I don’t allow many people on here; until Tally came with us, my family and the guys were the only people to step aboard apart from my crew, but for some reason it feels okay to have Priss here with me, and I don’t really understand why.
Maybe I’m forgetting who she is because of how she looks, but I need to remind myself how bad a person she is and ignore how much she looks like her sister, a girl I truly adore. In such a short amount of time Tally has become the sister I never had. She’s so resilient and just fucking awesome to be around. I love her and I love her for Arlo, they are so perfect for each other, and even though we’re young I can see them going the distance.
They might be twins, but Priss isn’t her sister and as she sits primly down on one of the couches I’m reminded of their differences once again. Silently I unload the bags of food onto the coffee table, handing her juice to her and motioning to the food. “Dig in.”
A look of panic flashes in her eyes, but it’s gone just as quickly as I watch her assess the table full of food in front of us. “The pancakes are the only things I recognize and I can’t eat them,” she says, that all too familiar disgust filled tone coming back to life.
“Why not?” I ask.
“I just can’t,” she snaps, taking a tentative sip of her juice.
“Because your mom told you you’ll explode if you eat carbs?” I say with a snicker. The silence that follows is telling and I can’t help but shake my head in disgust. Stabbing a forkful of pancake, I dip it into the pot of maple syrup and hold it up to Priss’s lips. “Try it, I dare you,” I say with a mocking raise of my brows.
For a second she freezes, not moving, then I see anger ignite within her. I don’t know if it’s the mocking, or the fact that I dared her, but her lips part and she opens her mouth eating the food from my fork.
I watch as she chews, her eyes falling shut as the most seductive moan comes from her.
Fuck. Swallowing thickly I wait, desperate to hear the sound again, but it doesn’t come. “More?” I say, not sure if I’m begging her to make the sound again or if I’m offering her more food, but either way when she nods, I cut off more pancake and drown it in syrup before holding it up to her lips again.
When she moans again, I swear I almost come in my pants. I shouldn’t be this turned on, fully dressed, with a girl I hate, but I am and I need more. Cutting off some waffle I stab a strawberry and feed that to her next, watching as the syrup makes her lips shiny and wishing I could lick it off.
Over and over I feed her bites of all of the different foods, loving how she reacts to them like she’s never experienced them before. It’s somehow one of the most erotic experiences of my life. Between each forkful I bring to her lips, I take one for myself, sharing a fork with her and wishing I could taste her on my lips.
