You’re Mine by Penny Brooks

Chapter 33

Easton

I can't believe Blake even bothered to save his number in Harper's phone. It's not like he actually gives a shit about her or wants anything more than her pussy. His game is the same as mine-sleep with the hottest girls in our school and bust out of here the second we graduate. But it takes balls to tread on our best friend's sister.

Can't I say the same thing about me?

No.

The same isn't true at all because the first time my mouth was on her, I didn’t know it was Harper. The second time, in her cat costume, I didn't know either. She was just Mystery Girll to me.

But now?

Fuck.

She's a goddamn tease with the tightest ass and a rack unlike I've ever touched before, nipples. I want to pull into my mouth and bite.

My dick is getting hard again as I find my seat in the last row of English class.

And to think the hard-on Harper had given me in the library had just died down, but it's back and roaring to be inside of her.

“Easton, you're late,” my teacher says the moment my ass hits the chair. “Sorry, traffic jam in the stairwell. Won't happen again.”

Ryan turns toward me from three rows ahead and laughs. He's looking all studious with his notebook in front of him, pencil in hand, his gaze now on our teacher who's

going over the chapters that had been assigned as homework last night.

Chapters I haven't read because I spent the night with Harper instead. I'm going to have to copy Ryan's notes after school, there's no way I can pay attention right now.

Not when his sister is owning every thought in my head.

I need to see more of Harper and decide to stalk Sadie’s Instagram to make that happen, so I reach into the top of my bookbag, secretly sliding my phone into my hand. As I touch the screen, I hide behind the kid in front of me to make sure the teacher can't see what I'm doing. There's a direct message from Harper waiting for me.

I click on the notification.

Harper: If either of us actually gave a shit ... except we don't.

The Blake comment must have made her feel bad.

Part of me thinks that's adorable.

I quickly check to make sure the teacher still can’t see me, and I switch to text, realizing I hadn't saved her number in my Contacts.

But then a thought hits me.

What if Ryan sees my screen one day, when my drunk ass is reckless, and I accidentally leave my phone on a table and she happens to message me?

I delete her name and type in Mystery Girl instead.

Me: It's Easton.

Me: I'm glad you finally realize that neither of us give a shit.

Mystery Girl: Dick.

Me: But one that you like very much, especially when it's in your mouth and you're

swallowing my cum

Mystery Girl: You don't have to remind me of the two seconds you lasted. Unless it meant something to you. Yikes, it sounds like it did.

I glance up, adjusting my position as the teacher moves to a different white board. When my eyes return to my phone, I read Harper's message again, imagining what she'll taste like when I lick her pussy again. What she'll sound like when she’s finally begging for my dick, when she gets hours of me instead of minutes.

Me: Would you rather have Blake's dick in your mouth? Shit, it sounds like you would

Mystery Girl: Maybe we should talk about Aisha. Now that's a girl who definitely knows her way around your cock.

Me: Jealous?

“Easton,” my teacher says, “why don't you give the class your opinion on Scout's relationship with her father, Atticus, which was covered in last night's reading assignment.”

I slowly gaze up, the teacher standing over me, glaring.

“Or should I read to the class the messages you've been sending while you were supposed to be paying attention?”

Fuck me.

I shove my phone into my pocket. “Their relationship,” I begin, needing to find a way out of this, “is, you know, just like any other kid's relationship with their parents at that age.” I look at my other classmates. “Am I right?”

"He's definitely right,” Ryan agrees.

“You just earned yourself a two-page report, detailing their relationship, and due by our next class.” The teacher turns around, glancing over her shoulder after a few paces. “Your phone stays in your pocket until the bell rings or it's mine. Understood?”

I nod.

I wish she gave me an hour's worth of detention, that would be much easier than reading the chapters and writing about them

It's going to be a long night.

I remove my notebook, trying my hardest to focus on her lecture and by the time the bell goes off I don’t have more than a few sentences jotted down. I shove my notebook back into my bag and hurry up the stairs, taking out my phone as I climb.

Mystery Girl: Jealous of her? And how-1'm sure-you treat her like shit, the same way you treat me? Nope, definitely not jealous of THAT.

I don't believe that for a second.

When Aisha called when Harper and I were standing in my kitchen, her expression told me she was all kinds of jealous.

Harper likes the attention I give her, she likes when my lips are on hers. She likes when she has me alone in the bathroom or garage, my fingers finding their way inside her.

Who can blame her, I know my way around a woman's body, and I know how to make her fucking scream.

Me: You're a very bad liar, Harper.

As I reach the top of the stairs and turn the corner, I see her leaning into her locker. There's a smile on her face as she stares at her phone, my latest message, I assume, on the screen.

The grin is a confirmation of everything I already know.

The hallway is full, kids rushing the corridors, so they won't be late to class. I can't take too much time, I'm already in enough trouble tonight, and I don't want to be seen with her, starting rumors neither of us need.

I stop a few inches behind her and whisper, “For someone who doesn't care, I certainly make you smile pretty hard.”

I pause for a second longer to read the message on her screen.

But I immediately see it's not from me.

Blake: How about dinner tonight?

My hands fucking shake as I read what Blake sent her.

That bastard.

She turns around, giving me a clearer view of the text that I've already seen.

“You thought I was smiling because of you?” She grins even larger, laughing. “Damn, someone's quite full of themself, aren't they?” She rolls her eyes and closes her locker. “Pathetic,” she says over her shoulder as she walks away.