Page 5 of Prince of Pain
He was also besties with Beckett and Riley.
“What do you want?” I purred, teasing his chest with my long acrylic nails. “You want to stuff me with your big cock again?”
“Say please,” he deadpanned, already steering me towards his car. “Seriously, how wasted are you?”
“Enough that I’d consider fucking you a second time,” I joked, and he rolled his eyes as he grabbed the passenger door to his burnt orange ‘69 Plymouth Roadrunner and yanked it open, encouraging me to get in as he secured me with the seat belt.
He didn’t answer, simply shutting the door in my face and jogging over to his friends, motioning to the car as he spoke.
He was probably bragging to them about taking me home.
Logan was a whore, possibly worse than Ryder, and that was saying something.
He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, not saying anything as he drove out of the huge field that held the sealed racetrack, driving along the main road towards town.
“You know,” I started, closing my eyes as the alcohol hit me harder. “My sister’s going to freak the fuck out that I vanished.”
He snorted. “I told Reid to let her know I was taking you home.”
“It was bold of you to assume I’d just leave with you.”
“Yeah, you really put up a fight,” he muttered, and he didn’t speak again until I felt the car stop. I must have drifted off for a while because there was no way in hell we were already in the Heights at the house he shared with his friends.
I opened my eyes, my body tensing when the blurriness cleared enough for me to see the front of my house. “What the fuck?”
He silently climbed out and slammed the door, walking around to my side to literally lift me bridal style into his arms. He kicked the door shut before starting to walk towards the house.
“I said I was bringing you home,” he finally grunted once we reached the front door, making me scowl.
“I thought you meant you were taking me to your house to fuck me, you asshole.”
The door opened as he replied, his angry eyes on mine. “I don’t mind fucking girls who throw themselves at me, but you’re a mess, Tempest. You can’t consent in this state.”
“Logan,” Dad growled, his voice low with warning. “What are you doing here? If you think you’re staying, you have another thing coming.”
“Nope. Just delivering your eldest princess,” he answered as he helped me to my feet, letting out a sigh of annoyance when my legs kept giving out and he had to keep a hold of me. “As you can see, she’s a mess.”
“Thanks for bringing her home,” Dad replied tightly, letting Logan help me inside where he dropped me onto the couch. I instantly curled up as sleep tried to pull me under, but Dad’s voice annoyingly kept me awake. “Here, take some money for gas.”
“It’s fine, I chose to drive her home,” Logan replied, their voices getting quieter as they walked away, finally allowing me to drift off to sleep.
I woke up with a dry mouth and an ache in my neck, my eyes cracking open to reveal my living room. Part of me was hurt that Dad hadn’t moved me to my room like he used to, but I also wasn’t surprised.
He’d written me off a long time ago.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes and cringing when I noticed the black marks left behind from my makeup. I needed a hot shower, some coffee, and then I’d figure out the rest of the day after that.
It took me over two hours to get ready, finally feeling more human once I’d washed my long, blonde hair and put my makeup on. I painted my lips with red lipstick, inspecting my outfit in the mirror critically.
I was tall with a tiny waist, and my ass and tits were decent too. I was the complete opposite to my sister in looks as well as personality.
I poked at my stomach as my tight dress hugged my figure and I let out a sigh, knowing I’d have to skip meals for a few days in order to lose the added pound or two. I needed to lay off the sugary cocktails, they were making me gain weight like a motherfucker.
My tits barely fit in the strapless dress, both of them almost spilling out over the top, and I tugged the material up slightly to make sure they were secure before wandering down to the kitchen to make a coffee.
Mom was sitting at the table, her tired eyes clashing with mine when I entered. “Morning. Coffee’s hot.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, pouring a cup and sitting opposite her, sipping the scalding liquid as if it would burn my problems away.