Page 190 of Lessons in Cruelty

But my time? My attention? Not so much.

I keep forgetting he’s a teacher, though. His job is to care.

“Hope you emptied your savings, Miss Lee, because whatever the hell’s cooking over there smells fucking good.”

My laugh sounds forced, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. He turns to the taco stand on the other side of the parking lot, beckoning me to follow when I hang back.

“Um…actually…about that…”

He stops walking, frowning at me. “What’s wrong?”

Yes.

I’m fucking broke as fuck.

Which isn’t new for me, but puts me in a rather sticky—fuck you, Kai—position.

I reluctantly mumble, “I kinda lost all my money.”

Hadn’t meant to say, ‘all’. Hadn’t meant to sound so defeated. But it wasn’t enough for Kai to jizz all over me last night, he had to do it in my car too?

Bastian’s car.

Like he was marking his territory or something?

…did he fuck you?…

So I’m reeling. Furious. And trying so desperately hard not to show it, all that comes through is the desperation.

“Did it fall out of your purse?” Bastian’s frown is deeper now, his mouth in a line.

Aw, that’s adorable. Him pretending I have a purse when he knows exactly how poor I am.

This is just another game, isn’t it? Everything’s a fucking game with him.

“Must have, yeah. Look, I’m really sorry. If you want to leave⁠—“

His laugh cuts me off.

“You’re in luck, Miss Lee. I just upped the limit on my credit card, so I’ll pay for all three nachos, seventeen tacos…and whatever you’re having,” is what he says.

But what I hear is, “I have unlimited money and you have Kai’s cum on your fingers.”

If he hadn’t grabbed my hand and threaded it through his arm, I’d have climbed back into his Land Rover and driven off in a squeal of tire smoke. But he’s smiling, and it somehow takes the sting out of him knowing just how dirt fucking poor I am, and I don’t want him to let me go.

It feels good.

It feels right.

Everything I didn’t feel last night when Kai was crushing me to the floor beneath my bed.

God, why’d I have to think about that?

I walk with my thighs pressed together a little tighter than before, my hips wiggling furiously as I try to compress the urgent ache that’s just started up in my fucking loins.

We walk arm-in-arm until we’re a few yards from the taco stand, then Bastian pulls out of my grip and takes his phone out of his pocket like he’s checking a message.

I didn’t hear a notification come through, but maybe it’s on vibrate.