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Ash. I hated her for what she was doing to me, and I hated Declan even more, knowing he somehow got her on his side.
Once I got over this…whatever the fuck this turned out to be, I’d make them both pay. Once I was myself again, I’d make them both wish they were dead. Even dropping out of Hillcrest wouldn’t stop me from making their lives miserable. I had a shit ton of money; I could follow them wherever they went.
When I heard Travis coming down the stairs, I quickly moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a cold beer and popping it open. I offered it to him, but he only shook his head. I took a long swig, finally saying, “She’s pretty, at least.”
Brooklyn was someone from the local college, but I’d known her a while. She always liked my posts and followed me on every social media site I was on. Not exactly a stalker, but if I told her to jump, she’d be one of the bitches who’d ask: how high? What was going to happen after she got out of that shower would probably be the highlight of her pathetic life.
“I guess,” Travis muttered, setting the dye container down on the counter. His blue stare lingered on me. “You sure you want to do this?” I could tell by his tone he didn’t really care; he was only doing this for me, and he didn’t give a shit what my answer was.
It was too late now. Brooklyn was here, with her light brown locks bleached and then dyed, and her pussy was just as good as Ash’s.
Ash. I would not think about her right now.
I nodded, and Travis pulled out a pack of cigarettes, saying, “I’ll meet you upstairs, then. I need a smoke.” He said not another word as he exited through the back door and onto the patio, where he plopped down on the nearest chair, kicked up his legs and lit one up.
Smoking was never really my thing. I’d tried it, of course, but I didn’t like the feeling of smoke in my lungs. Pills were easier for me, and their effects were more instant.
I brought the beer upstairs, setting it down on my nightstand as I sat on the edge of the bed. I ran a hand over my face, wishing that I could press rewind and have a redo of my life for the last few years. I’d do so many things differently. I’d pay more attention to Sabrina, be with her when she had her episodes. I wouldn’t be such a fuckup.
But that was the problem: I was a fuckup. I was one of the worst fuckups to ever roam Hillcrest. My parents’ money was an excuse for me to cut loose and let my inner darkness fly, but when given the opportunity, I went wild. I made mistakes while knowing they were mistakes, and being self-aware never stopped me. I didn’t care about the consequences or the future. As far as I was concerned, I might be dead in ten years, so why did it matter? Inheriting my parents’ company…there were other people out there more qualified for the job. Me? I didn’t want it, and I sure as shit didn’t want whatever woman they’d tell me to marry.
Fuck my parents. Fuck their money. Fuck everyone in the entire fucking world. I didn’t care.
It was long after my beer was gone when I heard the blow-dryer start to run. Brooklyn was in there, drying her hair, all for me. The thought didn’t even get my dick hard, not at all. This…this was going to take some work, I knew.
I got to my feet when I heard the bathroom door open, and Brooklyn stepped out, wearing a towel around her body, her hair mostly dry. A bit darker pink, but it just might work.
Brooklyn was a curvy, ample girl. Her eyes were a shade of blue you’d find in the waters in the Caribbean, and she usually had them lined with an excessive amount of eyeliner and shadow. She’d tried to get me to take her upstairs at a lot of my parties, but until now, it’d never been her time.
“Well?” Brooklyn asked, tilting her head. Her hair was a bit longer, well past her shoulders, but it would do. The hot pink it was before had faded a bit with an extra washing, now no longer excruciatingly painful to look at. “Is this pink just right for you?” One of her legs was cocked, and I bet any money that if I reached between them, I’d feel her slickness. She was probably ready for me the moment she walked through my door this morning.
I walked around her like a vulture, studying her hair. I said nothing as I yanked the towel off her, revealing her pale, naked body. Her breasts were round, the perfect size to hold in your hand, and her nipples were already hardened into pebbled points. Besides the hair on her head, there was no hair anywhere else on her. Her arms, her legs, even her pussy. All of it was shaven, just for me.
“Where’s Travis?” she asked, and I responded by pulling on her arm and forcing her to the bed.
“He’ll be up soon,” I said. “You don’t have a problem if you and I get started, do you?”
Brooklyn was on her knees on the side of the bed, her ass in the air. “No,” she whispered, a light and airy sound. She turned, sliding off the bed, leaning her back against the frame as she started working on my pants, her head level with my dick.
Staring down at her, I realized, this just might work.
She had my pants down, my boxers next. I watched her pink head tilt, her eyes meeting mine. My dick was growing, but it was nowhere near as hard as it should be. “Put me in your mouth,” I said, watching as she did so without hesitation, puckering those full lips against the tip of my cock before taking me in.
I found out there was one thing Brooklyn was exceptionally good at, and it was giving head. She was able to deepthroat me, take me in entirely, and I felt my balls tremble. Watching her pink head bob along me, I was hard as a rock now.
Getting hard wasn’t the issue, though. It was staying hard. It was losing myself in the moment and letting the pleasure take me that was the problem.
I let out a moan, and right when I felt like coming, Brooklyn tore her mouth off me and peered around me. I sent a glare behind me, finding that Travis had walked in. He was on his phone though, looking like he was typing something. I didn’t recognize the phone, though, and I was too full with the need to cum that I didn’t care to ask.
“Sorry, dude,” Travis spoke, “but I have to go. Family shit.”
I held myself back from rolling my eyes. With Travis, it was always family shit. Could you believe that I’d known him for nearly my whole life, and I’d not once met his family? He never had me over; it was always Travis coming to my house, which was just fine, because from what it sounded like, Travis’s family was weird.
Brooklyn was about to whine, but Travis waved her off, “I’m sure Sawyer will more than make it up to you.” He met my eyes, and then he was gone.
She was about to look up at me with those wide, blue eyes, but I wove my fingers through her hair and forced her mouth back to my dick, mouth-fucking her like I imagined doing to someone else. Another girl with pink hair.
No, don’t think of her. Focus on the now.
