Harper's Rules 1 & 2

Chapter 42: Harper

This is not a date.

It's blackmail.

No, dickmail.

Some grade-B-D bullshit dickmail.

My cheeks puffed up and I huffed out a loud noise that vibrated my throat and sounded in between a grunt and a groan. Heat flushed my skin warm as I shut off the water and walked into a cloud of steam. The view of our microtiny bathroom walls blacked out of my view as I dropped my towel overhead, hinged over at my hip, and dried my hair with scrubbed hands.

Date my ass.

Two can play this game. And this girl plays dirty.

Five days had passed since our Saturday dinner night with Jake's mom, with a few date-reminder texts from Jake as the only communication between us since then.

After I dropped Jake and his mom off at his house, livid was an understatement of how I felt while I tore off for the drive home. My knuckles strained with tension, my right leg's calf muscles heated from how hard I stomped the accelerator, and black dots lined the corners of my vision.

I don't know whether to be mad or impressed with his ballsy move to tell his Mom.

Mad. Definitely mad.

Once back in my and Li's room, I needed forty-five minutes with HNV, followed by the coldest shower our bathroom offered. After a completely restless night, another finger flick session on Monday, and three days of retribution planning passed before I cooled down.

If Jake planned our not-date tonight, then I for sure planned the only part of it that I looked forward to.

And since I've had a few days to think about it, it's the part that involves Jake tied down to his own damn bed, where I tease and edge him as many fucking times as physically possible.

I knew that the two pairs of elastic, nylon bungee cords buried in my trunk were more than sufficient accessories to my redemption plan. Not even Jake's best escape efforts would've removed those if I'd bound his wrists and ankles to his bed corners.

No headboard to knock against the wall but I'll improvise.

At the mental image of Jake's large, muscular body strapped down to his white comforter-covered bed while I took from him whatever the fuck I wanted, a flush of warmth glowed between my legs like a cruel hum of approval. By the time I removed my towel and stood upright, my smile couldn't have stretched wider.

Childish? Yes.

Satisfying? For me, fuck yes.

I inhaled a deep, damp breath, wrapped my towel around my torso, and reached for the door handle. Muffled sounds hit my ears right when the door creaked open. Thankfully, I'd covered myself up because my flip-flops skidded to a stop when Li's bed thumped against the wall, shook like an earthquake, and two strings of Mandarin curse words erupted from the top of it.

So much for her being at dinner.

"Li?" I crossed my arms over my chest, shifted my weight onto my bare left foot, and lifted my eyes upwards.

"Yeah," she mumbled quietly before her face, as beet red as I'd ever seen it, peered over the bed's edge at me. My lips spread into a huge smile when her hands extended overhead and she slipped a T-shirt over it.

"Thanks." My lips curled upwards at the corners.

Her head tilted slightly as confusion flooded her eyes, echoed in her voice, "For what?"