Billionaire's Playmate

by Chance Carter

  I looked over my shoulder at Wes. His smile fell away.

  “You should be grateful we’re not going to kill you,” he snapped. “You should be begging for fucking mercy.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Do you hear yourself? What are you, some shitty movie villain? Where’s your cape?”

  That did it. Wes let out an angry snarl and came at me fists first. We were the same size, so while I had no doubt that I could beat him in a fight, I knew I was going to be useless against all of them. This wasn’t a fight, it was a beating. Better to get it over with quick.

  They piled onto me, laying kicks and punches everywhere. I tried not to scream, letting out a series of muffled groans as they pummeled me. The pain was intense. Every strike, every blow, sending a series of rattling sensations through my bones. It felt like I was vibrating from the inside out. At the same time, it felt like someone had thrown me in a meat tenderizer and turned it on high. I couldn’t see from the blood that trickled from my nose, my mouth, covering my eyes as I lay on the ground and wondered if maybe death wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It seemed like they were heading that way, too. I’d never known Wes to show much restraint. He was like his father in that respect.

  And then it stopped.

  I lay there, wheezing, blinking through the blood. Their shadows all receded except one. Wes.

  “I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he gloated. “But remember this the next time you think about having a little private chat with Dallas. I’ve got my sights set on her as my next conquest, and I don’t like sharing. Understand?”

  I just stared up at him, trying not to look as battered as I felt. Wes sneered and then turned, and I listened to them stomp back over to the field and away.

  Thank god.

  I managed to turn onto my stomach and assess my injuries. I was tender, horribly so, but it seemed like nothing was too dire. No broken bones at least. We didn’t have insurance so going to the hospital was out of the question. If I was badly injured, mom could fix me up when she got home.

  I groaned, but this time not from the pain. Fuck. Another thing I was going to have to explain to my mom. She already flipped her lid when she found out I punched Rob, but since we barely had time to talk this morning, I hadn’t received the full brunt of her disappointment. This would just add icing to the cake.

  I hauled myself to my feet. That was a problem for another time. For now, I only had to worry about getting my ass home. It was going to be a fun ride.

  Not.

  I made it home in one piece, already feeling a little better. I took my ass to the bathroom and spent a good half hour just cleaning myself up. Blood had soaked through my shirt, so I threw it out, pissed. It was one of my favorites. Not that I had many to choose from since new clothes never ranked high on our priority list.

  After my shower, I staggered over to the kitchen. I grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and noted that Mom had left a casserole for me in the fridge, even though she was pissed at me. It warmed my heart. And since my stomach was rumbling, I decided to heat up the casserole. I turned on the oven and headed for the couch, slumping down with a sigh and pressing the bag of peas to my temple.

  My face received the worst of the damage. They probably hoped to do the same to me as I’d done to Rob, but I’d done a pretty good job of protecting my face, and Rob’s jaw breaking like that was a once in a lifetime shot. I got the angle and the force just right. They didn’t even manage to break my nose, though it was pretty fucking painful all the same. Everything was painful. The only thing that didn’t hurt at this point was my dick, and I supposed that was a small victory.

  Wes’s warning to stay away from Dallas circled my head. I already knew I wouldn’t be able to follow the directive. Him telling me to stay away just made me want her more, and him telling me she was his next conquest just made me want to protect her more. The thought of anyone touching her made my blood boil. The thought of Wes touching her was un-fucking-bearable.

  She was mine. I’d laid my claim on her with that fateful kiss, and I meant it. Just the thought of her pillowy lips, so inexperienced yet so eager, made my cock stir. The fact that I could still get hard when my body was hurting so much was a fucking miracle, and since I needed to let loose a little frustration, I decided to go with it.

  I let the peas fall to the side and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling my cock out right there in the living room. Mom wouldn’t be home until long after I was in bed and I was going to avoid moving as long as possible.

  My cock hardened to stone as I began to stroke it, filling out until it was thick and heavy. I closed my eyes and thought of Dallas, thought of her spread out before me like dessert. I didn’t know what she looked like naked, but I could just imagine how perfect her tight little tits would be, soft and creamy as the rest of her. I pictured her squirming with pleasure as I went down on her. She would taste divine. Her mouth had tasted divine. I would bring her to new heights of pleasure, show her the depth of my desire, and there would be no going back. I would lick her folds until she screamed, until she seized up with bliss and let go. She deserved to be pampered. She wouldn’t get taken care of by Wes the way she would with me. I would be all about her, and only once she thought she couldn’t take any more pleasure would I finally take mine.

  My hand moved up and down my shaft, squeezing hard as I pictured sliding it into her hot pussy. My balls tightened, and I went faster, the pain drifting off until it was only background noise to a symphony of ecstasy as I got ready to erupt. My fantasy Dallas was on the verge of another orgasm. Her tits bounced with the force of my thrusts. Her mouth fell open as the first ripples of her climax hit her.

  I erupted with a grunt, sucking in a mouthful of air when I realized I’d been holding my breath. I kept pumping my shaft until I got out the last few drops of cum, then I fell back against the couch and panted.

  Dallas was mine. Wes could say what he wanted, he could try what he wanted, but Dallas knew just as well as I did that there was something between us he didn’t stand a chance against. I didn’t care how long it took. I was going to get her, and I was going to keep her.

  Chapter 8

  Dallas

  I took the long way to school again, the one that took me around the backside of the school where the parking lot was. The rain pattered against the hood of my rain jacket, dripping down onto my cheeks. It was too cold for Spring. The weather report said it was going to rain for the next week or so, and that the temperatures would stay in the single digits for at least the next three days. I didn’t like to ride my bike in the rain, so I walked. The colder and wetter I got, the more I wished I’d just stayed home. I didn’t have anything significant going on today, but if I missed school, I wouldn’t have been able to satisfy my daily curiosity.

  I walked through the rows of cars, craning my head this way and that, before I finally accepted defeat. Shane’s bike wasn’t there. It had been missing in the parking lot for the past three days now, and I was seriously worried about him. Nobody I knew had seen him since Wes and Nelson took him away for their “meeting”. When I asked Wes about it, he said that all they’d done was talk and that Shane was probably hiding at home with his tail between his legs, but the longer this went on, the antsier I felt.

  I trudged up the gravel path to the school’s back doors, cursing the weather. I didn’t love the rain. I cursed myself even more for not getting Shane’s phone number before he went AWOL. Even more than that, I cursed Wes. His problem with Shane seemed to extend far beyond football and Rob, but I didn’t understand what about Shane could draw so much of his ire. He was a good guy. I knew he was. Why was everyone so determined to think otherwise?

  Sopping wet, I made my way to my locker and started tugging off my coat. My hair was mostly dry underneath at least, though makeup bled down my damp face. I started fixing it in my locker mirror and was surprised to see Wes standing behind me.

  “Jesus!” I jumped, turning to glare at him. “Don’t sneak up o
n me like that!”

  Wes bared his teeth in what I’m sure he thought was a smile. Why did I get the feeling he enjoyed seeing me startled? He gave me a once over, returning his gaze to my eyes and winking.

  “You’re all wet.”

  I frowned and wrapped my arms around my chest. The coat had kept my upper half relatively dry, but my jeans were soaked through above my boots.

  “Yeah. I just got back from the waterslides,” I deadpanned. “Wes, where’s Shane?”

  Last time I asked him he got visibly irritated, enough so that I decided not to ask him again. I was tired of his bullshit, and I was tired of people underestimating me and thinking they could intimidate me.

  “How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Wes asked. “I already told you I don’t. What are you trying to say?”

  “All I’m saying is that I haven’t seen him for days and you were cagey about your answer last time. I’m worried.”

  Wes rolled his eyes and snorted. “Worried? Are you kidding me? That reprobate doesn’t deserve even an ounce of your concern. He’s probably in prison. Garbage does as garbage is.”

  Even though Wes was sketchy about the “meeting”, he seemed to be telling the truth about not knowing where Shane was. Heavy on the “seemed to be”. As long as I’d known him, he’d been a horrible liar, way too cocky to be able to pass off a story that wasn’t the truth. Anyway, pushing him further would only irritate him.

  I turned back to my locker and finished hanging up my coat, grabbing my binder and books for my first class. I didn’t dismiss him verbally, but my body language should have been clear.

  When I turned around, Wes was still there. In fact, he’d gotten closer.

  Him standing so close to me brought memories of my last conversation with Shane, where he’d all but pressed my body into my locker with his own. It gave me tingles just thinking about it. All this did was make my skin crawl.

  “Can you move, please? I’ve got to go to class.”

  Wes smirked. “The bell hasn’t rung yet.”

  “I like to be early.”

  “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, Dallas?” He reached out and twisted a lock of my hair around his finger. I stiffened.

  “I wanna ask you something.” Wes let the twist of hair fall from his finger and inched back just enough that I felt like I could breathe again. Not far enough for me to sidestep him, unfortunately.

  “I’m a captive audience,” I said with a flat expression.

  He chuckled. “You’re funny. I’ve always liked that about you. Other people don’t see it, but I do.” He met my eyes. “Be my date to the prom.”

  A knot of disgust twisted my stomach, but I forced my expression to stay neutral. I didn’t think Wes was a guy who took rejection well, so I had to deliver the blow as softly as possible. One thing was certain—I didn’t want to go to prom with Wes. I’d known that for a long time. I made a new realization at that moment too, however. If Shane didn’t ask me to prom, I didn’t want to go at all. There was nothing there for me without him, particularly if my other option was this leering asshole, who didn’t even ask me so much as he did command me.

  “That’s sweet of you, Wes, but I’m going to have to decline,” I said, trying to sound gentle. “I just don’t see you that way, and I wouldn’t want to risk our friendship.”

  Yeah, that’s right, I thought, as I watched the cockiness drain from his face. I hope you brought a jacket, cause I just pushed you out into the cold.

  My celebration was short-lived. Something else came in behind the smugness. Something worse. Wes’s mouth took on a cruel tilt, and his nostrils flared.

  “You should reconsider,” he said. “I think you’ll find your family isn’t in any place to refuse a request from someone of my family.”

  “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  This conversation was the most aggressive one I’d ever had with Wes. I’d gone through my entire high school career without standing up for myself against anyone, which had earned me a reputation as a good girl, a girl who could be easily pushed around. I didn’t want to be that girl. I wasn’t going to be that girl. I was going to be a star on Broadway, dammit, and like a proper diva, I wasn’t going to let anybody tell me what to do anymore unless they were wearing a director’s hat.

  “It means that it’s in your best interest to go to prom with me, sweetheart. Your dad’s, too.”

  All the heat drained from my body. I told myself the shiver that coursed through me was from my wet clothes, and not from the look of icy contempt on Wes’s face. He was perhaps even more handsome when he was like this, like a precisely carved ice sculpture, but in a way that terrified me. Disgusted me.

  “No, Wes. Please don’t ask again. And that’s not a funny joke.”

  I stepped around him and was surprised that he stepped back enough to let me go. With my binder in a death grip and my sights set on the end of the hall, I started speed walking toward class. The bell rang, and the other students who’d been milling around all started flurrying this way and that, filling in the gap behind me until I was sure that I’d put enough distance between Wes and me.

  He had to be joking, right? Surely he didn’t just threaten my dad because I turned down his prom invitation? Only a truly insane person would do that.

  I turned into my English class and saw Sasha already seated at her desk, which was just beside mine. I felt relief flow through me, warming me to my fingertips. I was desperate to talk to someone about what just happened, and though Sasha probably would say something bitchy about me turning Wes down, at least she could calm me down a little and normalize the whole experience.

  “Hey,” I greeted, taking the seat next to her.

  She looked at my soaked jeans and grimaced. “Christ you’re wet. Did you walk into school or swim?”

  “Tell me about it.” I sighed and opened up my binder, flipping forward to the English section. “The craziest thing happened to me before class. Wes asked me to prom.”

  I dropped it on her casually because I didn’t want to give her a chance to control her expression. Sasha’s dark eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed. She studied me like a hawk.

  “And? What did you say?”

  “I don’t like Wes like that, so I tried to turn him down as nicely as possible,” I replied. “He didn’t take it well. Made some comment about how there would be consequences for my dad and me if I turned him down... What do you make of that? He was just joking, right?”

  Sasha completely ignored the latter half of the sentence, which incidentally was the only part of the whole thing that required her input.

  “You turned down Wes?” She made it sound like the idea of me turning down anyone was inconceivable. It was hard not to feel offended.

  “Yes,” I answered tartly.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? He’s the hottest guy at this school.”

  The second bell rang, and our teacher walked up to the front of the room. He started writing on the board, though we had another minute or so before we’d be expected to shut up and listen.

  “Yeah, and I’m just not interested in him. Is that such a crime?”

  Sasha rolled her eyes. “Could you be any more of a boring virgin? It’s like being friends with Mother Theresa except without all the free shit.”

  “Great chat, Sasha. Really appreciate the help.”

  “Christ, don’t be like that,” she replied. “I was just joking. Apparently, humor is not your forte. Of course Wes isn’t going to kill you and your whole family just because you didn’t go to prom with him.” She laughed. “Get a grip, girl. You’ve been way too on edge recently.”

  I expected her comment about me being on edge was about how I’d been less submissive and more snappy recently. I wasn’t on edge. Or I suppose maybe I was, but not for any reason that she might think. I was just done—with this school, these people, this whole goddamn town.

  As our teacher started up his lecture at the front,
I slipped comfortably back into my New York fantasy. Me, Shane, and a world of possibility at our fingertips. Only another month and a half until I was out of this place. Only a few months after that until I was out of this town. And then? The world.

  Chapter 9

  Shane

  Tonight was going to be tricky.

  I made sure the kitchen was meticulously clean after I ate, scrubbing all the dishes, putting them away, and wiping the counters until they shone. Mom and I took pride in this little home, even if it was a shit hole that we were forced to live in because we couldn’t afford anything better. At least it was home.

  I’d managed to avoid seeing my mom over the past few days, and if I could make it through today without her seeing my battered face, I would have until the weekend to heal it up enough so I wouldn’t look like I’d seen the business end of a baseball bat. I hoped that if the place was spotless when she got home from her twelve-hour tonight, she’d be so relieved that she’d give in to her exhaustion and head straight to bed.

  As it turned out, that was not the case.

  My mom could sniff out trouble like a basset hound. She was the only person I knew who I could not say a word to all day and would still instantly know if something was wrong. It was frustrating as hell when I was trying to hide something, especially when I was already so humiliated and bruised on the inside. She knew when the kids on the playground teased me for being a bastard, or for being poor, and though she always made me feel better, I still didn’t want her to catch me out in it again. I didn’t like sharing my misery with her because if things were hard for me, how much harder did that mean they were for her? She didn’t need that.

  I’d avoided confrontation with her over the past few days by spending lots of time at work or out of the house. I hadn’t been to school, but I got up and left every morning like I would for school. Then I’d either drive my bike down the coast or go out to my spot in the woods to read or nap. The spring days were warm and accommodating for my truancy.