Page 10 of Such a Bad Girl (Hot Creeps #5)

REBECCA

Snip.

Snip.

Snip.

Edges of photographs fell away, landing on my thighs like autumn leaves. Leaves that were part of my past, and would hopefully pave my future.

I twisted the images as I removed the subject from them, creating a pile of stolen memories. Laughs meant for others. Long forgotten kisses. Fashions that fell to the wayside.

Sighing, I gathered the many faces, flicking through them while smiling softly to myself.

Carpet indented my legs where I’d knelt for too long, and the blood rushed back into my calves in a tingly flush as I stood. The hum of the fan kicked in as I opened the bathroom door. My pot of PVA glue awaited, and I spread a layer over the wall, it shining wet in the ugly yellow light.

Thank God it was nearly done. The formerly piss coloured bathroom walls were now a sea of colour. A montage of images painstakingly pasted over the crappy old paint.

Removing it when I left would be a ball-ache, but that was a future Bex's problem.

I didn’t rush the process, selecting each picture with care to add to the photo wall.

Leafing through my box of photographs was one thing, but seeing them all together, displayed in a sea of faces, sent a thread of warmth through me.

Albeit, I’d have to stop letting the girls come over.

It would be worth it.

After finding the perfect spot for each image, I sealed over them with another layer of glue, leaving it to dry to a solid sheen.

I’d no sooner finished washing the gluey strands from my hands when a loud knock startled me.

Leaving the chain linking the door, I opened it a crack.

Henry leant against the frame, his green eyes stormy behind his dark-rimmed glasses. Upping and leaving him the previous day had clearly driven him wild .

It was fun.

‘Good evening, Professor,’ I said, letting a coquettish naivety fill my words. ‘Whatever can I help you with?’

‘I’ve got your invites.’ Water trickled down his forehead in rivulets, the rain hammering around him.

‘Show me.’ Glee filled my chest. The girls would die with excitement.

Henry thrust three elegant envelopes through the doorframe, somewhat damp, but still legible. In scrolling ink, my name decorated the front of one. Hand lettered in calligraphy.

Fancy.

‘Thank you,’ I smiled.

‘Are you going to let me in?’ he asked, his shoulders stiffening as a door opened nearby.

Tipping my head, I watched the small slice of him I could see through the crack in the door. ‘I’d love to. Unfortunately, I’m about to wash my hair.’

A deep growl met me, making my insides quiver in delight.

I loved him when he became enraged. Winding him up was quickly becoming my favourite thing.

‘Rebecca.’ My name was an admonishment on his tongue, and I fought back the urge to laugh.

‘Henry,’ I parroted, reaching through the gap in the door and grazing a thumb over his wet cheek. ‘I’d love to drag you in here and finish what we started, but we both know it’ll only be sweeter if we delay the inevitable.’

He caught my fingers in his hand, sucking them into his mouth while holding eye contact. The way his tongue slid between my digits had me close to caving. That hot, wet mouth could be so divine. I knew he’d use it well.

But giving a man everything he wanted too quickly could ruin everything. And I’d worked too hard to get to where I was to throw it away on a quick fuck.

No.

Stay the course, Bex.

Still, my eyes fluttered as he sucked on my finger, his moan reverberating through my hand.

‘Please, Bex?’ The wanton plea nearly toppled my willpower.

‘At the party. Find me. Take me. Keep me.’

I withdrew my hand and thrust the door closed in his face, hearing his deep sigh coming from behind the wood.

The shower was mediocre, as always.

The brush slid through my hair, which looked a light brown when wet rather than its usual blonde. I focused entirely on the mirror and pretended I had no idea that Henry lurked outside my window, the rain battering his sullen face.

Biting back a smile, I took out a pot of moisturiser and slathered the cold mousse over my legs. He stepped closer to the partially opened window as I worked the lotion into my legs, slowly working from toes to my upper thigh, circling and taunting.

Of course, he didn’t know I was putting on a show for him.

I moved on to my arms, rubbing until they gleamed. Dropping my towel, I caught sight of his reaction in the mirror, his hand moving out of view, his arm jerking.

My dirty professor.

He should know better.

My fingers slid over my tits, rubbing them as he practically fell apart outside. I turned to give him a full view of my ass, bending to gather the lotion and making sure he saw me rub it into every inch of my naked body.

Soon enough, his face contorted in either anger or orgasm, likely both. And I swallowed a giggle at his tortured expression .

He was barely functioning because of his obsession with me. It made me feel like a fucking goddess.

Would he worship me like one?

I pulled an oversized tee on, still pretending not to be aware of him.

He slid his hand in through the small gap in the window, and I held my breath. What the hell was he doing?

He wiped his hand over my pillow. Right where I slept.

It took everything not to turn around and stare. Instead, I opened a beer and gathered the photo scraps, tidying the mess I made.

By the time I returned to the bedroom, he was gone.

I inched over to the window and snapped it shut, locking the mechanism and pulling the thin curtains closed.

Only then did I inspect my pillow.

‘Oh, Henry,’ I said with a smile. ‘You disgusting man.’

My pillowcase was coated in cold, slippery cum. He’d left me a gift.

Giddy, I pulled back my covers and climbed into bed, using the spare pillow beneath my head and crushing the Henry-coated one between my thighs .

Moaning softly into the night, I pretended he was there with me. Touching me. Between my thighs.

His cum coated my naked pussy, a veritable unholy slip-and-slide of our combined desire by the time I was ready to sleep.

The level of depravity he showed caught me by surprise. A pleasant surprise. I’d had no idea how rotten he was beneath those dark-rimmed glasses and pretty face.

Let’s hope he was ready to sink to hell with me.