Wild Bastard by Ella Savitskaya (most popular ebook readers .txt) 📗

10

Marina

Matthew's insolent, wild, and self-righteous eyes glare at me from above. His palm is still on my neck, and it makes my heart quicken its pace. I don't like letting strangers into my personal space. Especially him.

I drop the guy's hand and pass the joint to the girl sitting next to me. Actually, I have an ambivalent attitude toward weed. I try to stay away from drugs after a good friend of mine ended up in the hospital with broken arms and legs because he had jumped out of a window while he was high. I have heard from someone that it is better not to touch synthetics at all, and that marijuana can be used in small quantities. I am already familiar with this poison. Living on the street, you can't protect yourself from all the crap that your friends indulge in. So somehow I got into it. It was hard to get out, but I managed.

Sergio holds out his hand, inviting me to dance with him, and I go. I came here to have fun after all. And I have to stay away from that crazy asshole, too. It seems to me that I'm his obsession now. Sergio puts his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. Nearby, someone bumps my arm, twitching in the active dance. I let the guy turn me away and lead me a few steps away.

"Are you okay?" Shouts in my ear daddy's son, as I call him to myself. No, in general Sergio is normal, but even an idiot can understand where he gets the money for all this luxury. He doesn't earn it himself.

People like him, born into golden shirts, inherit a place in family companies, get their asses in expensive cars, and roll through life like cheese in butter. I don't despise them, by any means. Lana is normal, even though her father's accounts contain large sums of money. It all depends on the person.

"I'm okay" I shout in his ear as he pulls me tighter.

The guy's lips move down my forearm, his palm sliding up my back. They all think that if my ass is half naked, it's easy to access. Like hell it isn't. I wonder if I told them the tempting truth that I'd never had sex before, would they behave the same way? For a lot of guys, sleeping with a virgin is an honor worthy of the best. They have to tell their buddies about their exploits.

After a few minutes my head starts to turn dizzy after a couple of puffs. The music sounds sharper, the flickering tabletop strobe lights are blinding.

Judging by the fact that Sergio's actions have also become more insistent, he is also already stoned. The guy presses me hard into him, kisses my neck uncontrollably. The sensation of his wet tongue is disgusting, even though desire usually increases when you' re high. I lean against his shoulders and slip out of his grasp.

I climb onto the glass table with my feet and begin to move to the rhythm of the music. I wonder what the piece of furniture is worth under my feet? How many thousands am I stomping on my heels right now? Some girl climbs in after me, and now it's just the two of us. I move my arms, caressing my own body, run my palms along my waist and hips. I let my fingers run through my hair and float away into the music.

At some moment my back begins to burn. It mostly happens when someone is staring at me. I turn around in search of an irritant, and only when my eyes meet Matt's, I understand where this burning power comes from.

The guy is sitting on the couch, with his arms stretched out on the back and his legs spread wide. He looks at me sideways, a half-smile on his lips. He reminds me something of Jared Leto's Joker. He's just as reckless and unprincipled and crazy.

His cheeky gaze slides defiantly over my body, causing my skin to get goosebumps as if he is stroking it with his hands. And then some girl with breasts falling out of her cleavage sits down next to him, pulls him to her chin and kisses him. Matthew doesn't pull back. Even from this distance, I can see his tongue sliding into her mouth and her hand covering his torso, raking his shirt with her fingers and running her fingernails over his pumped-up belly.

I turn away and jump off the table. That's great. Let him get his mind off this available slut. She's the one he can handle, unlike me.

My body demands a dose of oxygen. I go to the stairs, lifting my hair with my hand in an attempt to cool my skin. I go up to the second floor and look around. There are tables with expensive vases along the wall. I run my finger along the neck of one of them. I wonder if I break it, would it harm Sergio? It is not for nothing that he strictly forbade everyone to go above the first floor. I flick my fingernail at the expensive porcelain. I don't really understand dynasties, but this piece must be worth as much as my entire rented apartment on the outskirts of the city. I walk down the corridor, opening the doors one by one to find out which room contains the balcony I had seen from the street. When I finally find what I was looking for, I step into the bedroom, which has a huge double bed against the wall.

My feet sink into the soft carpeting. I undress, freeing my feet from my uncomfortable boots, and let myself tread on the long pile. It tickles my skin pleasantly, and after a few seconds of consideration, I do what I've always wanted to do: jump onto the bed and sink into the soft bedspread. The scent of laundry conditioner hits my nose, making me enjoy it more than the oxygen. I roll over on my stomach and pull the floral scent into my lungs. I'd never been in a house like that before. Actually, the second reason I agreed to work for Lana was to hang out with the golden youth. To see what it is like to be a part of them.

I run my palms over the satin bedspread. The receptors on my skin absorb this exhilarating sensation. It's not the hundredth round of starched sheets on the beds in the orphanage.

They are as soft as the clouds themselves. It makes me a little dizzy, but I'll still remember this feeling. I have to remember it. Who knows the next time I'll get to lie in a bed like this. Or if I ever will.

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