Prick / Page 30

Page 30



“I can’t believe you --” she interrupts, but I turn and walk down the stairs calmly, listening to her as she trails after me.

“Can’t believe I what, Katherine?” I ask, pausing at the top of the stairs for a moment, but she doesn't answer.

My mother and Senator Douchebag are downstairs waiting for us.

“Caulter Sterling." My mother greets me with a kiss on the cheek. She speaks softly, so that the Senator's entourage in the foyer can’t hear her. “I can’t believe you made such an effort. Thank you for not --”

“For what, mother?” I ask innocently, as she draws away from me. “For not embarrassing you? I can’t believe you think so poorly of me. I only want you to be happy, and if that means donning a polo shirt and khakis, well I guess that’s what I have to do.”

Ella narrows her eyes, but smiles immediately as the Senator walks up behind her and takes her arm. He looks at me, with an expression that’s as close to approval as I’ve seen from him. “Caulter. I’m pleased to see you looking so…”

“Normal?” I ask.

“Appropriate,” he says.

Katherine materializes at my side, and I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, only to have to try not to do an obvious double-take.

Shit, I have to force myself to keep from grabbing her perfect little ass; throwing her over my shoulder; and walking right the hell out the front door with her, in front of her father and his political cronies.

Somehow she found time in the last two minutes to ditch me and dash back to her room to change.

Into a dress.

Not just any dress. A white cotton sundress.

A white cotton sundress that skims over her curves, flows over her hips and comes to a seemingly appropriate knee length that sways with her every movement and is in no way fucking appropriate at all.

She's wearing a damn headband, for shit's sake.

“Oh, you look lovely, Katherine,” my mother says.

“Perfect,” the Senator agrees. Do they not see what I see? Katherine doesn't look the least bit lovely. She looks sexy. Sultry. Shit-hot.

“The car is waiting," the Senator says.

Katherine steps in front of me and tosses me a knowing look over her shoulder. Then she winks, innocent and seductive all at once.

She walks in front of me, the swaying of her hips causing the dress to swish back and forth, as she totters on conservative nude heels. The entire thing is so exceedingly appropriate that it has the exact opposite effect.

I want to bend her over in that dress and fuck her on the hood of the sedan.

A man in a suit holds open the car door as she climbs inside. He glances at her ass and it takes everything I have not to punch him in the face. I want to carry her inside and force her to put on the pants she was wearing before, the ones that covered every inch of those gorgeous legs.

When we're all settled in the car, Katherine and I on one side facing Ella and the Senator, Katherine pats my leg like I'm some kind of puppy. “See, dad?” she asks. “Caulter is even coming around, in his slacks and polo.”

I know her choice of phrase is no coincidence. I clear my throat and sit uncomfortably in the seat, trying not to think of cum while I'm sitting here in the car. I close my eyes and picture anything but Katherine naked, ignoring the compliment Senator Douchebag gives me about my conformity to his expectations.

I make my decision in the car.

I’m having fun screwing around with Katherine, but enough is enough. I’m going to have her.

I spear a mouthful of the stupid pancakes off the stupid plate. They're the same stupid pancakes I get every year I'm forced to attend this breakfast, ordered for me like I'm a toddler incapable of making my own choices.

I look over at Caulter, who has a mouthful of food. At least there's two of us being treated like toddlers now.

Caulter sits beside me, my father and Ella at the ends of the table, like we’re a completely normal family out for Saturday morning brunch. Except that we’re the opposite of normal. We're eating in front of camera crews and reporters, pretending this is the most usual thing in the world. How fucked up is that?

Reporters throw out questions that my father and Ella field between bites. It's at least gratifying to watch Ella be forced to sit in front of a plate full of carbs, moving pieces around and sipping on water. I space out during most of the breakfast, only perking up when something is directed at me specifically.

I’m distracted by the fact that I'm pretty sure Caulter can see down the front of my dress from where he sits beside me. Well, I'm distracted by that and the fact that my nipples have been hard for the past hour. Since what happened with Caulter in the hallway.


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