Make You Beg

Dax pushes away from me and turns to face Scout and the others as they also enter the living room once again. “If you enjoy your slut, then you’ll keep her the fuck away from me.” Then he turns and storms out of the house.

“I’ll go after him,” Rellik volunteers.

I get up off the couch and sway a bit.

“Let me.” Scout comes over to me.

“Stay away.” I shove him back. “You’ve done enough for today.”

I make my way upstairs and into the bedroom, then find my way to the bathroom. I turn on the lights but instantly regret it, so I shut them off and begin to undress. I just want to use this bathtub. I feel so dirty after being at Death Valley tonight.

Once undressed, I crawl into the jacuzzi tub and lower my body into it, sighing. I can feel the hot water burning my skin. My hands rest on the sides because I don’t want to put my wrists into the water.

Reaching over, I pick up the washcloth on the side of the tub and drape it over my head. It still pounds—throbbing to the point I can’t even open my eyes anymore, and now my cheek stings from Dax’s hand. I’m pushing him to his breaking point. Good. I want him to fucking show me what he’s got. It’s the only way to show the world what that motherfucker can do.

A knock sounds on the door. “Go away.”

RYAN SCOUT

I enter the bathroom, ignoring her. She lies in the bathtub, her head back on the small white pillow and a washcloth over her head and half her face. I watched her body slowly break down in the car on the way back here. Her adrenaline ran out, and exhaustion took over pretty quickly.

“Henley, you need to take these,” I tell her, holding a couple of pills in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

“Haven’t you drugged me enough for one day?” she mumbles with a heavy sigh.

“It’s Advil and water,” I state, smirking.

She ignores me.

I place the things on the marble counter, then walk over to the tub, drop to my knees, and remove the washcloth. Her head falls to the side, and she opens her heavy eyes. They’re already filled with tears. “Why?” Her voice cracks at the single word.

“Why not?” I ask, reaching out and running my hand down her face, careful with the bruise forming from Dax’s hand.

A single tear runs down her cheek. “I’m tired, Ryan.” She never calls me Ryan—not since we were younger—but I like the way it sounds. Everyone calls us by our last names, so it’s a nice change. “So tired,” she whispers.

Good. Break for me, baby, like a dam buckling from the pressure. Show me your limit. I lean forward and press a kiss to her temple before whispering, “I’m just getting started, doll.”

Another tear falls, and I wipe it away before lowering my fingers over her jaw and to her neck. She reaches up and grips my wrists and begins to pull them away from her delicate skin.

“Don’t,” I warn, and she lets go. “I don’t have any plans of hurting you anymore tonight, Henley.” She nervously licks her lips. Grabbing the washcloth, I go to place it over her eyes, but she pulls back. “It’s okay,” I tell her.

“Scout …”

“Promise.” I place it over her eyes and push on her shoulders, leaning her head back against the pillow.

Her breathing picks up, and I watch her tits rise and fall at the acceleration of fear. She doesn’t trust me. Not anymore. My little doll has gotten smarter.

I grab the bar of soap, dip it through the bubbles and into the warm water before lathering it up in my hands. Then I grab her right arm and start massaging the soap into her soft skin.

She moans, her body relaxing more into the tub, pushing her chest under the water.

“Better?” I ask.

She nods once, letting out a nervous breath. “Yeah.”

It reminds me of the time I really showed her what kind of man I am. The first time I played with my little doll.

Junior year

I shove open the door so hard, it hits the interior wall, storming into her bathroom. I knew she was here. She always enjoys a bath at night before she crawls into bed.

Henley sits in the jacuzzi tub, just as I guessed. “Scout!” she shouts, her left arm thrown across her chest to cover her tits from me. “What the fuck …?” She jumps to her feet and jerks the towel off the hook on the wall. “Get the fuck out!”

I storm over to her. Jerking the towel from her hands, I throw it across the room.

“Prick!” She shoves me back to retrieve her towel, but I grip her upper arms and yank her body flush with mine. Water instantly soaks my clothes from her bath.