Page 51 of Hurts So Good

The only question I’m left with is what time each of them plans to kill their mark. Not that it matters. The only thing waiting for them will be a bloody corpse and a desire unfulfilled.

They’ll finally feel what it’s like not to get their own release. To be left needy and wanting an orgasm, only to be disappointed and discarded.

Just a few more days. I can’t wait. I’ve already got my mask ready. Once I’ve finished playing with my toys, I’ll remove it and show them who bested the kings.

CHAPTER SIX

Jonas

There’s a gentle rapping on the door that can only belong to our Kitty Kat. I check my watch and can’t help the grin that snakes across my face. It’s five sharp. Little Hilary is punctual. It’s a shame that won’t have any bearing on her future. Neither will any of the hard work she’s put into making her life better to escape the slums she was born into.

“Time to play.” Jensen rubs his hands together like a kid at a party, eager to unwrap his presents.

I place my glasses back on and take my time stepping over to the door. I glance over my shoulder and give the guys a wink. It’s time to put on a show.

I grip the handle and turn, pulling it open just as Hilary lifts her hand to knock again. Instead of hitting her knuckles on the door, she hits my chest.

“Oh, crap, Jonas, I’m so sorry.”

I can’t help but chuckle internally at how badly she’s freaking out. Does she really think she hurt me?

Her face is white as a ghost. Maybe I should be calling her a mouse instead of a Kitty Kat because of how scared she is. My thoughts drift to chasing her through the woods as she screams.

“I’m really sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to open the door as I was about to knock,” she blubbers again. She knows we’re the kings and what she did, touching me like that, is punishable.

“It’s fine. I won’t kill you this time.” I give her a wink and chuckle. Well, not today anyway.

“Okay, thanks.” Unsure of what to do, she rocks back and forth on her heels.

“Well, come inside, Kitty Kat. We have lots of work to do.” I stand back, holding my hand out, gesturing for her to enter.

She’s wearing the same frumpy clothes from earlier. You’d think knowing she was coming to our house, she’d at least attempt not to look like a sack of potatoes. But nope. Still in the oversize sweatshirt that hangs down, nearly covering her ass, and baggy jeans. The same messy bun from this morning now has more hair spilling out of it. Her glasses sit low on her nose, and she’s wearing fucking ratty ass tennis shoes.

Hilary James is a hopeless, pitiful mess.

I shut the door and turn around, but she stops dead in her tracks and I nearly knock her over.

“I… I thought we’d be alone.”

“Nah, my buds live here. I’m not just going to kick them out. Besides, they can be our soundboard for the project.”

I step past her into the living room and take a seat on the couch. I can’t help but grin, knowing how uncomfortable she is. It’s fucking orgasmic. I pat the cushion beside me as she nervously chews on her lip.

“Well? Don’t just stand there. Join us.” I glance at the guys and see the glimmer in their eyes as they look back at me. Yep, they’re loving this too.

“I’m going to go take a shower. Order some pizza for the four of us,” Jensen says apathetically. Her lip quivers as her gaze drifts between all of us. I love the sight of how nervous she is—how nervous we make her. “I’m starving. I’m sure Hilary is too.”

Jensen stands, moving towards her, gripping her arms with his hands, moving her to the side as he leaves the room, heading up the stairs. She lets out a squeak and my cock twitches from the sound.

“Come on, Hilary.” I deepen my voice, tired of playing around with her. Friday will be a different story. She can play coy all she wants then, but I need to win her over so she’ll be exactly where I want her to be.

She shuffles her feet as she crosses the room, but instead of sitting on the couch, she lowers her bag off her shoulder and places it on the floor, kneeling in front of the coffee table across from us.

Well played, Hilary. Well played.

“There is a couch, with a spot right beside me that’ll be more comfortable than the floor,” I remind her.

She doesn’t look at me, instead, she keeps her head down, the loose strands of hair falling in her face, and pulls a spiral notebook from her bag. She opens it and places it on the table before taking a pen out.