Chapter 2 Oh My Fxcking Jesus

Alina’s POV

I ripped my gaze away from her and strode to the closet. Pulling out a long gown I’d never worn, I tossed it at her, then walked out to grab a trash bin. 

Collecting four bags, I dropped two in the living room and headed back toward my bedroom, listening to the shower run. Shaking her out of my mind, I cleared the rest of the trash, set the bin by the door, and made the bed. 

The room was neat, though thick with the stale scent of raw sex. I threw open the window, grabbed a room spray, and doused the space.

By the time I finished the living room, I was frustratingly sweating and stinking. I knocked on the second bedroom door. A muffled moan answered from within. 

Rolling my eyes, I shoved the door open to a deeply ridiculous sight. My only friend on three dicks: one in her mouth, one in her ass, and the third in her clit.

I will never understand the appeal of that much gymnastics. "Your job is done. Leave," I echoed.

The guys froze, losing focus.

"But—" one started. A single, deadpan glare from me shut down whatever he was about to spit out. They pulled out of her, and my eyes dropped to the three massive pieces of anatomy on display.

"Holy fucking molly! Blair, ain't those too big for your little body?" I eyed her. They were huge. Way too huge for her frame.

"Fuck off!" She threw me a middle finger, stood up from the bed, and stormed into the bathroom.

I shook my head and turned back to the guys. "I clearly stated 9:00 AM shouldn't meet you guys in my house." I raised a brow.

They shrugged, pulled on their clothes, and scurried out. Lazily walking back to my room, I found the blonde gone. Good—I wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. I stepped into the washroom, peeled off my oversized top, and stepped under the spray.

When I finished drying off, I didn't bother covering up. I walked back into my bedroom raw, only to find the blonde sprawled across my bed. I arched a brow at her flushed face, her wide eyes locked firmly on my tits.

"Out!" I scoffed, walking to the closet. I pulled on black panties and an oversized button-down shirt, leaving the first three buttons undone so my cleavage was fully on display.

"You should probably wear something underneath... your…, you know, it’s showing," she murmured, looking entirely too innocent to finish her sentence.

"Why? If it's too much for you to see, get your ass out of my house. Come downstairs, let's discuss your exit strategy," I retorted, throwing her a dismissive look. She wore a look of pure disappointment. Whatever. Like I gave a fuck.

Stepping out, I slammed the door and headed downstairs as a rich, savory aroma hit my nose.

"Good gracious, I love you, Blair!" I shrieked, bounding down the stairs toward the kitchen. 

There stood my cutie drama queen, wearing nothing but a singlet, short tights, and a frilly apron over the front.

"Who's that blonde?" She paused, eyeing me with a look she clearly thought was seductive.

"Stephen’s little Barbie," I said, waiting for the reaction. It was instant. Her jaw dropped.

"That dick had the nerve to bring his side piece down here and still shove his hairy dick into my pussy?!" Her voice spiked in pure disbelief. I scrunched my nose in disgust.

"Did you just say hairy? Blair, hairy? Oh, devil, take me now!" I laughed, a loud cackle tearing out of my throat.

She pouted. "You can't blame me! The dude is big and good, and I couldn't find anyone better, so I just went with it," she mumbled, a hint of regret creeping into her tone.

"You were the one I saw him with last night!" a sharp voice snapped from behind me. I froze and spun around to face an incandescently angry Bella.

"And yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" Blair shot back, a wicked smirk spreading across her face. The bitch would thoroughly enjoy this.

"You cost me my man, you slut!" A slipper came flying through the air. Unfortunately, it missed Blair entirely and landed squarely in the pot of food she was cooking.

Holy fucking cunt! That’s my favorite dish!

I marched toward the blonde, ready to slam her dumbass head into the wall, when a hand grabbed my arm, sending me stumbling. I hissed, ready to launch at whoever stopped me, only to see Blair lunging onto Bella, shoving her to the floor and grabbing a fistful of her hair to beat her head against the tiles.

Okay, what kind of live-action pay-per-view is this? It was completely unhinged and utterly hilarious.

I slowly stood up, hopped onto the kitchen counter, and watched as Bella shoved Blair off her. Both girls bounced right back up and went straight back to tearing into each other. Okay, I didn't know this blonde had hands. If Blair ever grabbed me like that, I’d never sleep the same way again.

Growing bored of the catfight, I slid off the counter, walked back to my room, and shut the door. I opened my locker, pulled out my phone, and saw a cascade of missed calls: three from Zain, two from Josephine, and five from Yvonne.

Then a notification popped up from Josephine:

“Get your ass to the hotel right now, Alina, or forget your job here.”

I tapped the unread messages. One in particular made my heart skip a beat. I checked the time—12:19 PM—then checked the timestamp on the message: 1:00 PM.

Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I ripped the oversized shirt off my body, dashed to the closet, and scrambled into blue denim jeans and a white bralette, finishing it off with a sheer net jacket and sneakers. 

I grabbed my phone, scanned the room, and aggressively dumped a few essentials into a blue shoulder bag before bolting out the door.

The two fools in the living room were finally done, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, glaring daggers at each other.

I stared hard at Blair. She had forgotten, too. Oh, we were both completely, utterly dead.

"Blair, the usual every Saturday?" I shouted, panic spiking at how screwed we were if we don’t get there in time.

"Oh, my fucking Jesus!" A shriek tore from her throat, and I had to clamp both hands over my ears.