Exit car. Take eggs. Hit fancy mansion. Run back to House. Be back by midnight.
Yeah, not that easy. Especially in lingerie and hooker shoes!
The laughter of my sisters-to-be carried from far ahead. They left me! I cried out for them to wait up but got no reply. Was cutting through the woods really the shorter way? Pressing through the brush, I searched the distance for lights and didn’t spot any twinkles. I wasn’t even sure which way to go from here, and I was already tired, freezing and achy.
To earn a pin and a permanent stay, our Delta Gamma chapter had the most grueling initiation in the US, requiring not just a few weeks but a full semester of hurdles that aren’t supposed to be considered hazing because that’s totally banned. Most Greeks cast votes after rush in September, and you’re in for just being liked, but invitees of Delta Gamma, as we’re typically called, cannot become official sisters until we go through a trial by fire. We must prove worthy. I don’t mind that though. I like having to muscle through and fight hard to earn my spot. Getting in meant something and spoke volumes of a person’s character. It evidenced strength, determination, loyalty and courage. I would get in. Then, maybe my mom, a DeGa Goddess herself, would finally be impressed with something I did. Uninitiated residents could be ousted at any time, for any reason, so, I had to make it back by 12. I had to! Though it was only around 10 or so, the time limit felt like a crunch.
When my right foot planted on uneven ground, my ankle caved over and I yowled. I hobbled a few steps, then kept moving swiftly along the path, more on my forefeet from that point on. It was difficult to go any faster because more debris cluttered the floor the further into the woods I went. I had to be at least a half mile from the mansion now. How long was the guard, or whatever he was, going to follow me? I expected the fake fur and King Kong mask to slow the linebacker down, but they clearly weren’t a hindrance at all. He sounded closer and louder now. He was gaining on me!
Though dangerous, panic shoved me back into a real run. My toe caught on a branch, and I screamed as I launched into the air and crashed down, palm-and-face-first into the dirt. The hard ground, that was just a second ago an aid to me with its rigidity against my spiky heels, smacked me like cement. I spit out filthy crud and groaned as I lay plastered against the chilly earth. Aches spread through my body like a disease. He was on me! I smelled his B.O. before his thunderous steps shook me and exhales slithered at me through his mask. Kielbasa fingers crushed my upper arms, and I was hurled up and over his shoulder with the same effort he’d impart to a towel. He whirled me around and marched back in the direction of the estate I’d just pummeled with chicken goo.
“Ow. Let me go. Put me down.” I squirmed and pounded his back.
“Not on your life, sweetheart.” He clamped down on my legs and left a fluff-buffered smack on my ass. “Quit fighting. This is the easy way. I can fold you in half if you don’t cooperate. And don’t think I won’t.”
My heart pounded, and my hips hurt from bouncing off his shoulder of rocks. “Please put me down and let me go. I’ll do anything. I don’t have anything on me right now, but I can and will pay you. What’s your offer?”
“Forget it. This is my job. Whatever you offer, old man Thorndike will triple for my loyalty.”
“Please. You don’t understand. I need to get back.”
“Not my problem. This is the third year you cackling witches have struck. We were ready for ya this time. Oh, and you will pay. Dearly. But it’s not my call on how.”
Third year? Shit. This rich dude was gonna be pissed, to say the least, and I’d be on the receiving end of all that festering wrath. I ground my teeth as they suddenly started chattering. Fighting this hired gun would be a waste of my time. A fan of my healthy back, I groused and kept my lips zipped the rest of the way.
As he lumbered me out of the forest and into the golden light splaying across the cobblestone driveway, my stomach churned, both from the jostling and unknown consequences to my wicked deed. Magilla Gorilla carried me into a toasty home and slammed the door. He still had me upended like a sack of dirty laundry as he proudly walked down a gallery of cherry wood and marble and into a game room filled with the crackle of burning wood and the scents of bourbon and pricey cigars.
With the hem of my babydoll fluttering at the base of my neck, I realized my red-pantied ass was on full display to the five middle-aged men sitting around a poker table. Their mouths were open, cards in hand, inching down. I’m just guessing, but they probably didn’t even notice the devil tail that took me four freaking days to make. My face got hot and my throat strained to weep at my hellacious predicament.
“I snagged one, sir. A sorority brat, just like you figured.”
The guard, bouncer, brute, or whatever he was, stripped off his mask and tossed it to the floor. His sweat dripped down my thighs.
“Wonderful, Geoffrey. Put her down. I’ll take care of her. You will be compensated handsomely.”
“Thank you, sir.” He hurled me down and I flopped onto a brown, leather couch. Searing cheeks said I was still red-faced in my panty-flashing position as Geoff gave me a one-over and winced. Maybe he was regretting not taking me up on my offer, now seeing my scantily clad awesomeness in all its badass glory. But I had been talking about money, not whatever nasty thrills his lip licking implied. Gross.
“You may go.”
Geoffrey sighed and said, “Yes, sir,” then shuffled out the door, giving one more longing look over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.
Mr. Thorndike’s ice-blue eyes and the fury written on his silver-bearded face pierced into me. I shook as he approached me with a waving fist. “You foolish girl. Throwing eggs at my house? What were you thinking?”
My abdomen tightened, but I laid there unmoving, propped up on my elbows, hair all wild, skirt over my waist, legs bent up and spread apart like a slut’s invitation. I opened my mouth but no words came out.
He brought his hands together with a clap and rubbed them together. He reminded me of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons right then. And he was probably just as evil. The glint in his eye seemed to suggest it. “The police and Dean Pratchett will be very happy I caught one of you vicious vandals this year. Now we have proof of exactly what sorority is responsible.”
What?! My stomach dropped. I never counted the consequences if we got caught. This was a simple, gooey prank. Not a freaking crime! Or was it? “The police! You don’t have to involve the police in this, do you? Please don’t. I’ll clean it up. I swear. Every spot of it. And I’ll make sure the Sig-Kappas never do this again.” I tensed in my fibbery.
“Of course I’m calling the police. Do you think this is just child’s play, some silly game? Do you have any idea what a headache you girls have been causing over the last several years? It’s no laughing matter. The egg freezes and dries up overnight, and it’s quite the task to remove it. Now that I’ve caught one of you, it’s time, my dear, to make an example. I will take great pleasure in pressing charges and bringing you all down.”
My lungs began to seize and sobs bubbled out. “Please, sir. If you call the cops or the dean, it could get me kicked out. My parents will probably cut me off, if they don’t kill me first.” Hopefully that sounded convincing. In truth, my parents wouldn’t give a rat’s ass or even notice.
“You should have thought of that before trashing my house.”
“Look. I’ll do anything you ask. Please.”
Thorndike scratched his beard while looking down at his feet or something, as though he might be considering another option. “Well ... since he’s technically the target, I’ll let Logan decide what’s to be done with you.”
Logan. Who the heck’s Logan?
When he picked up a phone on the credenza, I exhaled through puckered lips at the momentary reprieve. With him looking away, I smoothed my dark auburn flyaways and skirt, covered up my charms. One of the onlookers was rubbing his crotch, and he saw that I saw. Instead of pinking up, he grinned wide, reveal
ing a missing tooth in his grill. He made a jerkoff motion at his side and underneath the table. Hurl. Not in your wildest dreams, pal.
“Logan. Geoffrey caught one of the egg girls … Yes, certainly. But she’d rather not involve the police. It’s your call, son … Mmm hmm. Yes.” He looked at me again as he pulled the phone away from his ear. “He’ll be right down to deal with you.”
Deal with me? What the hell did that mean? My mouth went dry and I quivered at the unknown. But anything had to be better than a haul to the overnight slammer, right? What did police do to egg-tossing vandals exactly? I didn’t even want to find out. Hopefully I could sweet talk this Logan out of a call to the cops and we could settle on a less painful resolution. But I began to sweat and a tinny ring rose up in my ears when footsteps thumped down a staircase.
Kiddy laughter came from outdoors and the doorbell rang.
“Your mask, Geoffrey,” said a male from the foyer maybe. “Where is it? You look like a fool in half your costume. Delve out the candy for this bunch, then cover up your god-awful face.” That had to be Logan. I knew it wasn’t a brother or a cousin. The anger and pretentiousness in his voice. It was him.
And he was coming.
To deal with me.
The cheers of kids grew louder when the door opened. After their treat collection, the door slammed.
I shivered when a breeze swept in and licked me.
Geoffrey rushed in, collected his fur face and settled it on his head with a grumble, then walked back out, mitts clenched.
I smiled at Logan’s insult to his goon, because, really, Geoffrey looked like a gorilla either way. Why was Logan a House target though? I don’t get it. But my silent chuckle quickly fizzled, as it suddenly hit me that if Logan treated his staff like crap, what kind of verbal attack was I in for?
I doubted much when he entered the room. He certainly didn’t look menacing or cold-hearted. He was about my age and adorably cute, 5'10" or thereabouts, dark blond, maybe blue-eyed like his dad. He was clean-cut with nice hair, and his cologne smelled so sweetly like a sexified ocean. Mmm. Much better than cigars. Hands clenched, he stormed toward me with a confident, purposefully stride and stopped about eight paces away. Getting a reprimand from him seemed ill-fitting in a room filled with the merriment of billiard tables, ping-pong, air hockey, fuse-ball, darts and golf holes. What biting words for me hovered on his tongue?
He rubbed his face, huffed and sternly said, “Get up.” His voice, deep and velvety, did not match his package at all. That firm insistence shot through me like a lightning bolt, leaving a buzz in my gut that funneled down. And thinking of package, when I swung around and set my toes on the floor and my fists beside my hips, I dropped my gaze and took in the treasure stuffed in his jeans. Heat swamped my head as I scaled his legs and black-t-shirted torso. Not exactly a running back, but he had enough muscular areas to enchant my tongue and teeth for hours. His laid back outfit said black Chucks or Adidas, so I knew he had put those clackity dress shoes on for me, so he could make my belly whirl more and more with each footstep. His evil plan worked. I must’ve been taking too long because he insisted, “Now!” The self-assurance and carriage he held testified of a privileged upbringing, worlds past even mine, and made him seem years beyond his apparent age.
My pulse quickened as I burst off the couch and my tight swallow crunched in my ears. Two commands. He’d given me two commands. Well, one continuous direction technically, and I was smacked with elation and a sudden need to please and obey him. Why? Where on earth had that come from? I didn’t even know this guy. Had never seen him before in my life.
I finally met his gaze up close. No, not blue, brown. A glorious, dazzling brown of dark chocolate pools that fell to shattered amber. Brown eyes are usually more like mud or acorns, so the kaleidoscope and unexpected intensity fucked my blue ones senseless, and I was jolted and alarmed by the rush that slammed me. I felt like I was soaring through the clouds on a bouquet of balloons and, at the same time, like lava was dripping down from my chest and setting my womb on fire. My face smoldered and my insides melted. I dripped. What the hell! I cleared my throat and licked my lip.
In spite of the fury he came down to unleash on me, glee flickered in his eyes for a moment and the left corner of his lips twitched. He knew. He knew. Good lord, he knew. With one look in my eyes, he knew the hold and effect he had on me. I should’ve been freaked out by his clairvoyance, but our unspoken exchange and acknowledgement only made me tingle more. The weird thing was, I could read his mind too, and I knew exactly, exactly how he intended on making me pay for this crime.
He set his hands on his hips. “What’s your name, egg hurler?”
I curled my lips in to prevent laughing at the term ‘egg hurler’. Once I gained composure, I said, “Addison.”
“Your actual name.”
“That’s it. Addison. But some people call me Addie.”
“How are you liking Delta Gamma Manor, Addison?”
How’d he know? My mouth dropped open and I cast a quick glance at elder Thorndike.
“You told me Sigma Kappa, young lady,” he said.
“You lied to my father?” Logan roared. He charged at me, grabbed my upper arm and tugged me closer. His face, though overhead, now beautified inches from mine. His evident anger … and that thing about him, that demanding nucleus, yanked me into a riptide. I yearned to fall to my knees and hold onto his legs as I was sucked into his current of potency and away from the safety of all things familiar and heavily guarded. I knew precisely what I was looking at now, what kind of man he was. Despite his puppy dog eyes, there was no doubt in my mind. This was no boy next door. He was a god, a dominant force, a hurricane wind. The divine flames in his glare singed me deep in my abdomen and demanded I worship and adore him. If his grip weren’t on me, I knew I’d melt to the floor and fold myself in half before him, just because it felt so right. “Answer me, Addison. How do you like living with a bunch of bitches, who desert you when it really matters and get you to destroy property, lie, run around coatless, and dress in clothes a street walker would think better of?”
I have to admit, I was totally loving that he stuck with Addison over Addie and the way he said it with such a commanding punch. Mmm. My eyes stung at the sternness in his glare and tone. I flicked the inside of my lips with my tongue and left them slightly parted as I bought it to rest between my teeth and bit down. Those charms of might he possessed bored into my soul and stirred me up with their enchantment. Maybe he didn’t know it, but he was seducing me, pulling me, beckoning me to come out and play. Me. The real me. Saliva got hung up in my throat at my constricting swallow. I coughed and swallowed again, successfully erasing the tickle. “Um, I have to. Passing tests is a part of induction. They don’t let just anybody in. Being a Delta Gamma Goddess is something I’ve always wanted. My mom, my aunt, my grandma and her sister, are all DGs. You have to go through fire to get in, and this was a part of that.”
“They didn’t destroy property back then I’m sure. They did things to each other, sister-to-sister, maybe to frat boys. They certainly didn’t pull innocents into terrible antics. Do you even know why you’re here, why your lovely, vicious queen bee, Brianna, picked this house, my house, out of all the other mansions on the row?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t know. I have no idea.”
“No, of course you don’t. You underlings are too wimpy or mindless to ever ask the whys. I’m a junior now like her, and our freshman year, she asked me out, and I shot her down. That’s the whole of it. And she’s been trying to make my life a living hell ever since. But I’d never waste my time on trash the devil tossed out. I can pick out a wicked, despicable soul in a crowd of thousands. The stench of Hades coils around their lying, skank tongues and turns my stomach. You are not wicked though. No, you are not at all, I can tell. But you, Addison ... are bad.”
The way he hitched ‘bad’ to my name in a lower pitch and let it linger in the air unadorned scorched my
loins. He squeezed my arm tighter. My legs started to wobble and turned to mush maybe. Honey pulsed out of me. He was so close. Could he smell that? Did he know how goddamn hot and weak he was making me? His lips were so kissably close now and his eyes imprisoned mine with the might of fifty padlocks.
“You have been a very, very bad girl. For going along with this stupid, petty, vengeance Halloween scheme without even knowing why. For ruining the night of these fine gentlemen here. For chucking eggs at my house. For lying to my father and likely whining against his every right to call the police. For pulling Geoffrey away from his candy task that he so dearly loves. And for walking out of your house in nothing but your underwear. Don’t you think you should spend the night in jail for such shameful grievances?”
Jail. Right. Breath grated out of my nostrils because I knew damn well jail was the last place he wanted me. I’m right. I have to be. He’s gonna say it. His eyes spilled dark, erotic novels, the kind I avoided like GMO produce ’cause the last thing I needed bursting up inside was more ideas for kink. I stuck with vanilla sex or the occasional spanking scenario, but the latter usually made me feel sad at my perpetual state of pale. My head began to chime or was it the doorbell? Yes, the door. I shivered at the direction of this conversation but rubbed my shoulder to pretend it was a chill from the gust, as the front door was definitely opened. “Please don’t call the cops on me.”
Out of site, Geoffrey dished more candy out to giddy trick-or-treaters, who were thrilled to get what goodies they scored. Wow, they came out so late in this neighborhood. Maybe because there were a lot of mansions and big houses to hit with long, long driveways.
“I’ll give you a choice then, Addison. It’s either a trip downtown or over my knee.”
I swallowed hard. My god. He said it, confirmed it and shoved my 99.7 percent surety out the window with a wave of absolute certainty. My heartbeat ricocheted like a super ball in a one-car garage. If he couldn’t feel the sudden spike in my pulse through my arm, I’m sure he could hear it. The embarrassing percussion flooded my ears. It was so freaking loud, booming, throbbing, speeding, and he was so close, so close to me. I gasped and took a step back, trying to break free from his clutch, but he held fast. “Do you mean you’re going to sp… um … you’re going to...” Dammitall! My lungs tightened, making my exhales come out with volume. I was almost wheezing from an even mix of fright and arousal.
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