Page 40 of Vying Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #2)

Nic

I loiter in the kitchen, listening for signs of life as I fill up a glass and catch my breath. Glorious run, the sun dappling its light on me, most people still home nursing hangovers. Not a bad start to my birthday.

The thought makes my lip curl. At least no one’s jumping out shouting surprise! Haz threatened as much but she’s usually full of shit. Besides, she’s got someone else to divide her time with today.

I enter the lounge, eyes snagging on the mess of balloons and bunting. For me or her?

I shake my head. I’m not doing that. I never cared that we shared a birthday before, not starting now. Not like they haven’t tried getting in touch, the missed calls and texts on my phone being testament to that. Not their fault I decided to stay at the tent last night.

Just thought I’d get out the way. Make it easier on them.

Then I snort, because when did I get so fucking considerate? Probably when I found out my psycho cousin wants her. There are tonnes of things I’d wish on Tilda, but never that. Makes me uneasy that I haven’t heard anything since that note. What’s the fucker scheming?

I shake off the thought, drawing comfort from the puddle of sun warming my feet.

Don’t know why I’m back here so early. The event isn’t until later and I’ve still not decided if I want to bring Tilda or not.

I can pretend it’s for the purpose of protection, but I’d be a lying piece of shit.

I just want her today, simple as. There’s probably something to that.

Some long-lost inner child wanting to recreate simpler times.

Don’t even know if she’ll agree yet. I’ve hardly shown myself to be the best company.

But I’ve got her a little something to sweeten the deal, something I need to set up without the rest of them seeing.

Kindness still makes me feel vulnerable.

I ascend the stairs on weak legs, thankful for the endorphins still coursing through me. I hear laughter from Elly’s room, the door to Tilda’s ajar and showing it’s empty. Convenient. I jog up the stairs to the top floor. Might as well get her gift over with now.

But as I enter my room, my eyes land on something small and colourful on my bed. I pick it up, twirling the box. Origami. There’s no tag to say who it’s from, but the gold ribbon clues me in. A gift for me too? Aren’t we all chummy.

Sitting down, I give the box a shake. It feels as empty as air, nothing at all rattling inside. I hesitate before undoing the ribbon. Wouldn’t blame her if it’s a gag gift.

There is something inside, though, a folded-up piece of kitchen roll. I frown as I pull it out, turning it over in my hands before unfolding it.

My breath catches at the sight of the lipstick kiss, the colour a dark red, and the words scrawled next to it.

For pastime’s sake. Happy birthday xx

I grind my teeth as I work out whether this is supposed to be a taunt. The kiss she denied me as kids? The one that sent me into a fucking spin and a half. My first whiff of heartbreak. A prelude for everything to come.

Or is this something else entirely?

Do you fancy me?

I lower the paper, mind thrown back to that night. Tilda in my bed, her sweet scent fogging the room. That complicated worry over hurting her. My body singing just having her near. Hating it and loving it.

Jesus, is that really a road she wants to go down? One made of broken glass, bound to slice and cut and wound us.

Fancy isn’t a word that comes to mind when I think of her.

There are darker words more befitting. Feelings that don’t even have names.

She might favour the others in that way, they might have won her over, but not me.

Jesus, not me. What would that even mean?

What would that look like? It’s such a black scramble in my brain just to think about.

Wouldn’t end well, anyway. It just couldn’t. We’ve been cursed since day one.

My ears twitch when I hear a noise below. Not laughter this time. A definite moan. One of Tilda’s. I close my eyes, damning the instant throbbing in my clit. Not as though I haven’t heard her before. Her and Elly. Her and Haz. All three of them this time? Happy fucking birthday.

With a scornful smile, I lie back on my bed, that dark red kiss held above me.

I swallow, thinking of her lips, that flush I feel every time she kisses one of the others. Like I’m some fucking prude. But it’s not that. It’s imagining those lips on mine, some invasive thought I have no control over. Same thoughts from a decade ago and here they are again.

Her face goes so smoky, even when it’s just a peck. And those fucking eyes, so fluttery and heavy. Looking like she’s just had sex, no matter the time of day, no matter where we are.

Do you fancy me?

I run a fingertip over the kiss.

Oh, you are playing with fire, Matilda. One we’ll both burn in.

My chest turns heavy as her moans grow more desperate.

I hear Haz grunt, either one of exertion or pleasure, I don’t know.

Don’t care. It’s only Tilda’s noises that make it hard to breathe, feeling like I might come just by moving my legs.

I hold in a groan as I push a hand between them, raising my hips to meet it.

I try not to do this. Sometimes I’m successful, other times…not. Today is one of those other times. Tilda’s kiss in my hands, endorphins softening my mind, the sound of her just metres below me.

Palm flat, I rub myself over my clothes, breath stuttering at the pleasure. I speed up as Tilda gets louder. I let myself imagine what they’re doing to her. Probably strapping her knowing Haz. Strapping her hard.

I imagine myself strapping her, letting her feel every fucking thing I have over the last ten years. And she’ll like it. She’ll beg for it. She’ll let it atone her.

I bend my legs, my lonely breaths harsh in the room. I rub myself faster. I need to come before she does, staving off that empty feeling that would consume me otherwise.

I gasp when pleasure shoots between my legs. I rub tighter, harder, my arm screaming, the muscles corded.

‘Come on,’ I grit out, my other hand fisted around Tilda’s kiss.

It’s like dynamite when it finally hits. I press the kiss over my mouth, muffling my groan, pretending the kiss is real, that Tilda’s moans are because of me. I squeeze myself with my hand, hard enough for it to hurt, my inner walls clenching desperately around nothing.

Then the orgasm ebbs, Tilda shuts up, and I’m left with that black, viscous self-disgust I feel every time this happens.

Sitting up, I unrumple the kitchen roll, smoothing it with a strange desperation. I put it back in its box, sliding it safely to the back of my drawer.

Then, for the billionth time, I vow never to do that again.

Tilda

I hum as Haz pulls out of me, the sensation burning as much as it’s soothing.

‘So much for going slow,’ Elly scoffs, looking all lonely over on the edge of the bed.

Haz sits back on her heels, grinning down at me. ‘Didn’t want it slow, did you, baby?’

I smile weakly, gliding my eyes over her half-clad body, the black sports bra and harness darkening her skin. Elly’s dressed similarly, only minus the harness. I want them both naked but maybe this is just how they do it. Not sure I’d be keen on seeing my BFF fully naked either.

I pull them both to me for a cuddle. It’s definitely break time. Gonna turn to dust if I don’t get some water in me soon.

‘What are we up to?’

‘Five?’ Elly hazards a guess.

Haz grins, flicking the tip of her dildo. ‘Six.’

Elly shoots her a look. ‘Yours don’t count.’

‘Wait, you came?’ I slap her arm lightly. ‘Tell me, next time. I don’t like these sneak orgasms of yours.’

‘Cry about it.’ She bites my shoulder. ‘I could legit feel you that time. You’ve got some serious downstairs muscles.’

‘All this sex I’ve been having. My pussy’s got abs.’

Elly laughs, rubbing a hand over her face. ‘That is so not a visual I need.’ She rolls to her feet. ‘Anyway, gonna go get some water. Anyone want?’

‘God, yes. I am so thirsty.’

‘Thirsty for some more of this.’ Haz thrusts her hips to the ceiling, the veiny dildo flopping obscenely.

I poke her ridged stomach. ‘Hydration station first. Don’t want a headache if I’m to have ten million orgasms today.’

She captures my finger, turning on her side to face me once Elly’s left the room. She kisses the tip of it, then slides her hand to my cheek, kissing my lips just as softly.

‘You’re the fucking GOAT, Tilda,’ she mumbles. ‘Hear me?’

‘I hear you,’ I whisper, stroking my fingers up her side. I love it when she gets all gooey, in only the way Haz can. I especially love it when it comes after a particularly hard dicking down. ‘You are so good at that.’

‘Better than Elly?’

‘The same. Just different.’ I stroke hair off her forehead, baring those dark, long eyelashes fanning beneath her closed eyes. ‘This is the best birthday ever.’

‘Damn right it is. Glad you’re enjoying it, beautiful. Gonna be a looooong fucking day.’ She snorts. ‘Get it?’

‘Yes—fucking day. You’ve got fourteen-year-old boy humour, you know that? Anyway, we probably shouldn’t stay in bed all day. It’s Nic’s birthday too. We should probably spend some time with her.’

‘She’s not fucking here, Tilda. But hey, if she was, would you let her join in the festivities?’

‘No. Oh my god, we are not sleeping together. Just drop it.’

The door opens, admitting Elly holding three glasses and a jug of water.

‘Nic’s back,’ she announces. ‘I think. Her boots are downstairs anyway.’

My heart thumps, wondering if she’s found my gift yet, half hoping she hasn’t so I can go up there and chuck it from the window so she never sees it.

‘Probably just in time for those vocals of yours,’ Haz teases.

I frown, not really wanting to think about that, nor the stirring in my clit the thought conjures.

‘Sit up, babe.’ Elly pours me a glass and hands it to me.

‘Thank you, lovely person.’ I eye her white boxers and sports bra as she slides in beside me. ‘Kind of rude how I’m the only one naked.’