This Is War - Chapter 29 - The Whore-Princess
Tanner was waiting for me outside the tent, just casually leaning against a tree. As if nothing wild was about to happen.
How can he be so calm at a time like this?!
He kicked off the tree and walked over, the hint of a smile playing on his face. He stopped a few inches away from me.
“So what’s the verdict?” he asked. He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair.
“I’ll do it,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. Maybe if he didn’t hear me, I wouldn’t have to go through with it.
“What was that?” He cupped his hand to his ear and leaned in. “I couldn’t hear you.”
This is actually happening. I wouldn’t share him with Frankie. I couldn’t. “I said I’ll do it.” Sweat was pouring out of me by the gallon. This was shaping up to be more of a slip n’ slide than a spit roast.
Tanner looked so happy. “Then let’s go get this party started.
” He offered me his arm and led me towards where the music was blaring.
Instead of entering from the front, we took a path around to the back, behind the main stage.
There were curtains set up so that I couldn’t see all the people. But I could still hear them.
Oh my God. Am I seriously going to do this? I started sweating even more and my stomach flipped over.
Tanner stopped behind the curtain and turned to face me.
“Just to be clear - Cole and I are going to rip this dress off of you.” His hand traced the fabric down from my shoulder to just above my breasts.
He leaned in and whispered, his breath warm against my neck.
“And then we’re going to bend you over.”
I was already drenched in sweat. But his words were starting to make me wet in a different place.
“And Cole is going to jam his cock down your throat while I claim your tight little pussy. In front of over a hundred people. That’s what you want?”
Holy shit. His words sent a chill down my spine. Directly to my groin. I pressed my legs together. I’d never felt such a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.
I downed my third goblet of wine and nodded. “Yes.”
He reached out and ran his thumb across my lower lip. “That’s really what you want?”
I couldn’t even speak. I was waiting for him to slip his thumb into my mouth, teasing me. I just nodded, because I was scared I was going to whimper.
Tanner pulled back and raised an eyebrow. Amusement danced across his face. “You, Miss Ashley Cooper, are officially a freak.”
Am I? I guess I was. But he didn’t have to rub it in. Besides, he was too.
“Oh,” he said. “And I should probably mention one more thing before we go through this curtain.”
“What?” Is Dr. Lyons going to pop out and make it a foursome? At this point, no filthy twist would surprise me.
“I wasn’t actually on the blue team.”
I looked at him in confusion. What was he talking about?
“Everything I said about working with Cole…that was all a lie. I’m still on your team. Our plan worked. We won!” He lifted his hand for a high five.
What the actual hell? “So I’m not about to be spit roasted?”
Tanner laughed. “No. Of course not.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?! Why did you lie to me?! I was about to have a heart attack!”
“Because you’re so cute when you get angry. And so very gullible. How could I resist?”
“So you’re saying you just put me through twenty minutes of pure hell for no damn reason?”
Tanner didn’t respond. He just kept laughing like he was the funniest person in the whole world.
You asshole! “I hate you.” I slapped him right across his stupid face.
And then I realized what this meant. I wasn’t about to get spit roasted.
We had won! I jumped into Tanner’s arms and kissed him.
Like…really kissed him. I dug my nails into his back and kissed him deeper than I’d ever kissed anyone in my entire life.
Our other kisses had been hot, but this was pure fire.
Apparently relief was an aphrodisiac, because all I wanted to do was rip his clothes off and mount him right there on the forest floor.
Or maybe it was all the dirty talk getting to my head.
Or his abs pressed against me. I’d been dying for him to kiss me again ever since he’d left.
“I fucking love you,” I moaned in between kisses.
Shit. Not again! I’d already scared him off once by telling him that I loved him. Why the hell had I done it again?
I kissed him more, but the fire was gone. A second ago our tongues had been in perfect harmony. But now we were less harmonious than a chorus of 4 th graders. God, those home videos still haunted my dreams. How did my parents put up with that nonsense?
Anyway…the kiss. I’d ruined it.
I pulled back and jumped out of his arms. I expected him to look angry. But instead he looked amused.
“You still love me?” he asked.
“I love you like a friend. You know how it is. It’s just like the guys say. Love ya, buddy.” I punched his arm. Oh God. Getting spit roasted would have been less awkward than this. And now my hand hurt. Stupid huge biceps.
“I’ve literally never heard a guy say that to another guy.”
“Well it’s not my fault that you only hang out with emotionally repressed homophobes. By the way, your prank was a total failure. I knew the whole time that you were messing with me.”
Tanner laughed in my face. “Oh really?”
“Yeah. How gullible do you think I am?”
“Very.”
Damn it! He was totally not buying my lie.
Ocelot poked his head through the curtain. “Ready, Princess?”
“For what?” I asked.
“To get spit roasted,” replied Tanner.
“What?!” A split second after I said it I realized that he was just messing with me. Again. But the damage had already been done.
“Yup…not gullible at all,” he said.
“I hate you.”
He nodded. “We already established that.”
Ocelot smiled at us. “I really hate to break this up, because you two are being absolutely adorable right now, but the victory ceremony can’t start without you. And if we don’t cut into this pig soon, we might have a revolt on our hands.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me through the curtain.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” boomed a voice through the speakers on stage. It was so loud that it almost knocked me over. “Put your hands together for today’s victor…Princess Raven!”
All the campers cheered for me. I knew that there were a lot of people at the camp, but it seemed like so many more now that they were all crowded into one spot.
Thank God I’m not about to get banged in front of all of them. But then something even worse happened: Ocelot handed me a microphone.
What the hell am I supposed to do with this? I shoved it back into his hand. “I don’t want that.”
“Why not?”
“Because. I can’t speak.”
“You’re speaking right now.”
“I meant public speaking.”
“It’s not a big deal. Just announce your team’s reward and then the DJ will take it from there.” He shoved the mic back into my hand and escaped off stage before I could give it back to him.
I was going to chase him, but everyone was just staring at me.
Shhhhhhhhit.
I stood there frozen for what felt like an eternity.
It was like I was a deer and the crowd was an 18-wheeler barreling towards me.
Only this situation was worse, because at least the 18-wheeler would hit me and put me out of my misery.
The crowd, on the other hand, seemed fully content to just torture me with their eyes.
Why couldn’t I have gotten the public speaking gene like Rosalie had?
She was so good in front of people. Talking to a crowd was like second nature to her.
To me, it was pure torture. I was seriously considering dropping the mic and pretending it was a boss move and not a pansy move. But then the crowd started cheering.
“Wooo! Princess Raven!” yelled someone.
“Princess Raven!” yelled another. Soon everyone had taken up the chant.
At that point, I was pretty sure I blacked out.
What am I supposed to say? Oh right…rewards. For my team. Wait, what the hell does that mean? The only parallel I could think of was when my high school volleyball team had given out superlatives and varsity letters at the end-of-season banquet. Was that what I was supposed to do here?
I looked around for trophies. But there were none. Just tons of goblets. The DJ was dressed like a jester. And all the servers were wearing some weird cross between tuxedos and medieval livery. Oh, and there was a totally sweet throne that looked like it was straight out of Game of Thrones .
My nervous brain combined those two concepts - a sports banquet and medieval times - and I ran with it.
“My good people,” I said into the microphone with a weird Scottish accent. “My good people, please. Settle down.”
A hush went over the crowd. I had their full attention.
“For months we have struggled against the tyranny of the blue team and the whore-princess Chastity.” Whore-princess?
Eek. That sounded a lot harsher than I’d intended.
And it didn’t even make sense. They’d been battling Cole all summer.
This was Chastity’s first time as princess.
“But today, thanks to the brave efforts of our valiant warriors, that all ended. Today we were victorious!”
“Yeah!”
“Go red team!”
I waited for the shouts to die down before I continued. “All of you played your part, but a few brave souls distinguished themselves above all else. Nigel, please step forward.”
Everyone looked around. Eventually the crowd parted to let Nigel come up on stage. He looked so excited. “You’re acknowledging moi?”
“Yes. Now please kneel.”
“Oh.” His eyes grew round with excitement. “For…sexual reasons?”
“What? No.”
“But kneeling will put me right in line with…”
“Just kneel!” I whispered back, but the microphone caught it and amplified it a thousand times over.
Nigel knelt. And stared right at my crotch.