Page 20 of Privilege

Chapter Sixteen

Cara

I fucking see her game, and it is lame. She’s coming up fucking daisies, and I don’t want to waste my summer watching Rich stress out about how to handle her.

Time to snuff this bitch out.

She’s standing in front of the pool house fridge, her hand braced above her head, her hip out, wrap artfully draped around her shoulders. She was obviously expecting Rich to follow her.

“Jamie,” I say sharply.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Can I get you a drink, Cara? Or do you want my sloppy seconds? That seems to be your preference.”

I stalk straight towards her. She backs up against the fridge, eyes wide, as I step right into her space. Our bodies are almost touching, barely an inch between us, our noses a hair's width apart. Her mouth opens, her beating pulse erratic and pumping so hard I can see it in her neck.

“Clearly you’re in need of a good fuck,” I say, voice low. “I know how hard it is to be around Rich and not have his cock filling you up.”

“What are you doing?” she whispers. She’s nervous, knocked off-kilter, and I close the distance so our nipples are touching, nothing between them but the thin fabric of our bathing suits. I touch her hip with my hand.

She jumps but I dig my fingers into her skin, slide my nose slowly along her cheekbone and over to her ear where I lightly trace the shell with my tongue. Goosebumps rise all over her flesh, her breath coming quicker, shallow, hot on my neck.

“I know how you feel. All you can think about when you look at him is the feel of his hands on you,” I murmur. I run my palm up her ribs, my thumb brushing the underside of her breast.

She starts to tremble.

“You know how good it feels when he does this…” I pinch her nipple and she yelps, but then I soothe her, rolling it gently between my fingers as her chest heaves in earnest.

“You obsess about the taste of him,” I slide my lips along her jaw and then brush them lightly over her mouth. “You feel like you’re going to die when he isn’t touching you.” I let my hand drift down to the lower half of her bikini bottoms. “When he isn’t kissing you…”

I press my lips to hers, her shock and confusion quickly being won over by lust. I wait patiently, wait for her to relax, and the moment I feel her sigh and part her lips against mine I slip my hand into her bikini and drag my fingers over her slit while I slide my tongue into her mouth.

She’s soaked, slippery and wet and my fingers are coated in her without even having spread her open or sunk inside yet. She groans into my mouth and I find her clit with my thumb and middle finger, start to play with it, roll it around the same way I’m rolling her nipple .

“Oh my God,” she groans, hips thrusting forward as she tries to escape the feeling. “Fuck, that’s too much—that’s too intense—don’t, Cara—”

But she’s panting, so wet she’s starting to drip onto my palm, and I keep going, slow and rhythmic, watching her whimper and moan and sag against the counter as her body spazzes out from the intense pressure.

“Oh my God, Oh my God, fuck, fuck fuck,” she’s chanting. She looks like she might cry but her nipples could cut glass and suddenly she’s the one leaning forward to kiss me, exploring my mouth with hers and clutching the back of my head, pulling me tighter against her.

I can feel her pussy starting to contract. If I slid one finger inside of her right now she’d fall apart all over me. Her skin is flushed, and my entire hand is drenched in her juices.

One finger is all it would take…

“Fuck, Cara, I’m gonna come,” she almost screams, her thighs shaking so hard I’m surprised she’s still upright.

I yank my hand out of her bottoms and step backwards. She falls forward a little, her stomach muscles clenching, and she catches herself by putting her hands on her knees. She peers up at me with eyes full of angry tears, and for a moment I think she’s going to slap me but she doesn’t.

She stands up slowly, still panting, and her nostrils flare. I can hear the gears working in her mind as her brain comes back online.

Yeah, Jamie. I can play games, too.

She takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and then nods once. She sees me. Really sees me. And she knows she’ll fucking lose.

“Go home,” I say.

Her eyes flash, but then she stomps off out the side door.

I take a deep breath and exhale loudly, relieved. Rich and I have enough obstacles with his family. I don’t need sniveling exes, too. And as much as I love Rich, he’s never been good with conflict. Having met his mother, I can see why.

There might have been some better ways to manage this situation, including having a sidebar with Rich and simply asking her to leave.

But before I can fully process the level of mean girl I displayed, I realize Dane is standing in the other entrance of the pool house.

His eyes are glued to my hand—the one that only moments ago was in Jamie’s pussy.

“You should watch yourself with that,” Dane says slowly. “Jamie’s cunt is a fucking curse.”

“I take it you know first hand, then?” I say. Tired of this pointless, exhausting game of social shit I stalk towards him. “Is that what happened with you and Rich?”

Dane sneers, his mouth twisting into an ugly line. “Never got a chance to taste her,” he says. “We were interrupted.”

“Dane. You’re a good person. Why can’t we sort this out together? Whatever happened—”

“You’re not part of this family, Cara,” he says coldly. “You’ll never understand. And you can’t fix me.” He blinks, like he surprised himself. “ This. You can’t fix this.”

My heart squeezes. “I might not be part of the family, but I can still help.”

He laughs. “You’re so far out of your depth, Cara. You’ve barely had a taste of this world and you’re already losing control. You don’t belong here .”

It cuts to the bone, for someone to say it like that. Bluntly. Baldly. Smash my ribs in with a sledgehammer. Because he’s right—I don’t belong here. But I never thought it mattered. It doesn’t matter to Rich, and I very stupidly thought Dane didn’t care either.

I force back the tears burning in my eyes. His expression is taut, conflicted, like he doesn’t know whether he should kiss me or yell at me. Before he gets a chance to do either, I turn and walk away.

I’m almost out the door when I see his reflection in the glass. His face… Jesus. It’s like he’s been hit in the chin with a fucking tire iron. His eyes catch mine in the reflection, like in the mirror on my first night.

“It’s okay Cara,” he says quietly. “Someone has to be the villain, right?”