The Silver Swan (The Elite King's Club 1)

“Shut up. Get changed.” Nate points toward the stairs.

“No,” I hiss, offended and looking him up and down.

“Jesus,” Brantley scoffs. “She’s already buzzed.”

Ally laughs, wrapping Bishop’s hands around her waist as she wiggles on his lap. “Oh, this is comical.”

I flip them both off. “Not as funny as your breath, which tastes like ass, by the way.”

“Oh?” she asks, laughing and getting ready to shame me in front of everyone. Someone like Ally Parker doesn’t go down without a fight. “And you know what ass tastes like?” She and Lauren smirk at each other in triumph.

“Of course I do,” I say stiffly. “I’ve had my lips wrapped around Bishop’s tongue.”

Their laughing instantly stops, and she goes to launch off the couch again, but this time it’s Bishop who halts her movements.

“That was the last time you threaten me, in my fucking house too, by the way,” I say snidely, my shoulders squaring. Fuck her, and fuck these boys.

I turn around, forgetting why I even came down to see them.

“Oh, sis, come on,” Nate moans behind me. I flip him off and run up the stairs to continue getting changed.

New goals: look hot as fuck tonight, get drunk, and hopefully find someone to rub my ass against.

“JESUS.” I GLANCE AT THE stranger in the mirror. “That’s me?” I smirk, brushing myself off.

Tatum and Tillie burst out laughing, both of them nice and tipsy, and me a little bit past tipsy, but still sober enough to walk, talk, and act straight. I’m in that zone where everything is warm, when your blood is pumping, and you just know that tonight is going to be a good night. I can feel it in my bones and in my blood.

I touch my nude lips. “Damn. I look decent.”

“Decent?” Tatum mocks, offended. “Oh, honey, I don’t create decent. I create ‘daaaymn,’” she mocks Smokey and Ice Cube’s voices from the movie Friday.

I burst out laughing. Tatum did fucking good. My brunette hair is dead straight, hanging to my tailbone, my eyes smoked out in black, and my skin dusted in golden bronzer. My cheeks are brushed with peach blush, and my dress has been replaced with a more revealing one. Yup, I ditched the modest tight red dress, which Nate already tried to tell me to change out of, and replaced it with a thin spaghetti strap nude leather-like dress. It clings to my body like a second skin, accentuating my narrow waist and how my hips flare out slightly. It also showcases my bubble butt and D-sized breasts, both of which I always attempt to hide.

Not tonight though. Oh no.

I’ve always been self-conscious of my body. Because I don’t have that nice small butt or the perky small boobs that just sit there and look perfect. I’m not big. I’m actually petite, but my curves are most definitely not. The dress shows most of my boobs and a whole lot of my figure. I’ve done a good job at hiding it—up until now. Ally got to me. Bishop got to me. They all got to me. Now I’m out to fuck them all over, in a small package of a dress.

“Wear the heels.” Tatum throws the black pumps at me.

“I really don’t wanna.”

“I don’t care.” She giggles, taking another drink.

The party downstairs is obviously in full swing, what with the loud pumping music, glasses clinking, and the roar of laughter. The squeals of annoying fucking drunk girls—you’re a drunk girl right now—and the coming and leaving of headlights lighting up my dim bedroom further proves that tonight is going to be a messy night. We spent most of the night up here getting drunk and ready, and it was nice. I feel like I’ve known both Tillie and Tatum all my life, almost like we’re all soul mates but the friend kind. Or maybe girls are supposed to find their soul mates in their friends, and guys are just there for the D.

After I relayed everything that happened in the living room back to the girls, we all decided to switch up my outfit and go a little over the top—which is why I am looking like I am right now.

“Are we ready, girls?” Tillie wiggles her eyebrows from the doorway.

“Wait, wait!” Tatum stops. “Are we getting ass tonight?”

I laugh. “I hope so.”

They both look at me. “Are you a virgin?”

“What?” I’m just about to give them a small fib when I decide I don’t need to lie to these girls. They’re my friends, real ones. “No.” My laughing turns serious. “I’m not kidding. I’m not a virgin. But I’d rather not go there right now.” I pause, looking back to them. “Are either of you?”

Tatum nods.

“No way!” I breathe, but then feel instantly bad that I assumed she wasn’t. “Sorry.”

She shakes her head. “It’s fine. Most people think I’m a slut.”