Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,141

the sweat drying from our skin. It’d be foolish to think that Heston’s nature isn’t his own.

But maybe nurture played a part, too.

22

Heston

Georgia looks peaceful when she’s sleeping. Her red hair is fanned out over her shoulder, disappearing into the valley between her tits. I spend a long time looking at her body. I wasn’t lying before when I called it perfect. That’s exactly what it is. I’ve never had anyone as perfect as Georgia, with those full lips and shapely tits. Her skin is pale and smooth, but perfect for marking up. Her ass is round and ripe. Even her legs are great—soft thighs and dainty ankles.

For the millionth time, the thought crosses my mind: I can’t believe she let me fuck her in the ass.

Maybe I should feel bad about it, because she might have played it off well enough, but she was clearly hoping to save it for something special, and I’m not stupid enough to think that’s me. Maybe it was selfish for me to take it. Maybe a nicer guy—a guy like Oswald—would have been faced with the choice and made the one that was best for her.

I just really fucking wanted it.

Not only because anal is hot as hell, but also because of something else. I’m not great at explaining it to myself, but I think I wanted a piece of her. Something that was all mine. Ten years from now, she might be married and living the dream with some rich fucker who can buy her pretty jewelry, but he’ll never be the first to fuck her in the ass. That’s mine and mine alone.

It makes me toss and turn until I’m just laying here looking at her—this woman in my bed—feeling agitated and restless and so turned on that my dick is aching.

I move carefully when I slide out from under the leg she has tossed over mine, freezing when she stirs, only to clutch my vacated pillow and sigh, stilling once again. I move quietly across the room, unable to help myself from glancing back at the smooth curves of her bare ass as I pull on my shorts. I make a quick stop in the bathroom, and as I’m washing my hands, I look up at the medicine cabinet. It's a habit to reach for it, but I pause with my hand on the edge, thinking.

My stomach isn’t hurting at all.

I leave without even opening it.

The laptop is still on my coffee table, empty cartons of food scattered around it. I’d had this plan since the moment she pulled it from her bag, wondering how best to get some time alone with it.

The memory card I’d found in the Devil bunker is still tucked into my wallet, so I pull it out, taking a moment to find the slot on the laptop before sliding it in.

Inside the folder that pops up are three videos. One is labeled ‘Vandy Hall’, another ‘Caroline Richmond’, and then ‘Georgia Haynes’. I peer cautiously down the hall, listening for any sounds of wakefulness, before clicking the video file for Vandy.

“It started a few years ago,” comes Vandy’s voice, booming through the speakers. I dart forward, fumbling for the volume. “I had a few surgeries that first year, and they had me on morphine for a while. Eventually, they put me on other painkillers. They were patches sometimes, but usually pills. I was almost always hurting, so I was almost always on them. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. At some point, the pain stopped being so bad. Or, at least, it wasn’t bad all the time. I could have stopped taking them.” She looks up into the camera. “But I didn’t.”

I realize what these videos are; the confessions they’d told me about. The ones that were a part of their initiation.

Vandy goes on about being addicted to the pills, but that’s not news to me, so I close it out, glancing between the other two videos. Curiosity gets the best of me, and after listening for any movement from down the hall, I click on Caroline’s.

“My mom forged documents and paid someone to take the SATs for me. ‘I’ got a 1540.” Caroline rolls her eyes, shrugging. “She got a few wrong so it wouldn’t look suspicious.”

Boring.

I close it out, but I wait a few minutes before clicking on Georgia’s. Fuck, this could be anything. This could be the dirt Gene’s been looking for. This could be about her fucking someone