Page 15 of The Claiming

“That’s fine.” I turn to Ali. “What about you?”

“No way. I may change my mind if I find someone worth hanging onto, but for now I’m out and, like Jesse, will officiate.”

Santi grins. “I haven’t decided yet. I like the controlling aspect of it, and having a toy to play with at will is right up my alley.”

I’m curious. “Anyone in mind?”

“Anyone with a pulse.” Jesse adds, earning him a wicked grin from Santi.

“Pretty much.” He groans. “It will ease the pressure on my dick. I swear I injured it last night.”

Scooting back in my chair, I stand and run my fingers through my hair.

“I’m off to shower. Who’s got history first period?”

Jesse nods. “Sadly, me, although I could have used a free one. My head is banging.”

His chair drags across the tiles as he moves and says with a groan, “I’m heading to the shower in a bid to revive my body. Catch you in ten.”

* * *

As soon aswe make our way into the classroom, the conversation stops. I’m used to that. Silence appears to follow in my footsteps.

Kennedy catches my eye and smiles provocatively, and I sneer as I pass. Fuck, when will she get the message?

We tuck ourselves at the back as always and Miss Cash clears her throat.

“Okay, World War One is our topic this semester. Please open your books.”

When the houris up and the bell rings, I nudge Jesse, who fell asleep after ten minutes.

He jumps and knocks his book to the floor with a clatter.

As he bends to retrieve it, he bumps heads with Georgia Gray, a girl he’s fucked a few times already.

“Hey.” She hands him the book and I smirk at the written invitation in her eye.

“Hey Jesse, it’s good to see you.”

“You too babe.”

A sweet smile with an invitation attached is the best way of bringing Jesse back to life, and he grins.

“I never saw you at the party last night.”

She shrugs. “I was there. You were, um, otherwise occupied.”

“Maybe next time, then.” Jesse shrugs it off and makes no apologies and for a moment, her expression changes to one of distaste. Then she fixes a firm smile on her lips.

“Yeah, perhaps next time you’ll notice me.”

He shrugs. “Come and find me. I’ll notice you then.”

He glances at his phone, where several texts have lit it up like a Christmas tree.

“Fuck, gotta get these. Later, baby.”

He turns to me and swings his eyes to the door in a desperate bid to get away, and I put him out of his misery and say loudly, “We’ll be late.”

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