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This is the first part of five about a mafia story based on a book by Willow Winters. Her story is about Dom and Becca. It is replaced by StrayKids Member. I hope you will like it :D
If you are interested in the original story you can...
The car door shuts as Huening Kai gets out of the car. It closes lightly. I'm surprised the fucking light isn't flashing to tell me it's not closed all the way. Too gentle. Huening Kai is too gentle, too nice. We spent most of the car ride in silence. He kept opening his mouth like he was going to say something but never did. What is he going to say?
I swallow the lump in my throat and dig through the console for some tissues. I swear to God if his cum has leaked onto these black leather pants I'm going to be mortified. I don't have a change of clothes and it's not like I can just hide in the car. It's Baekhyun's first game of the season. He may only be three and never remember this, but I will.
I close my eyes and wipe myself, feeling like a dirty slut. I've only ever been with one man. Jungkook the prick, as I'd recently started calling him. Until he died, anyway. I shake my head and shove the used tissue into the leftover paper bag from Dunkin 'Donuts this morning. I crumple up the bag and toss it onto the passenger's seat. Taking a few deep breaths, I open my door and slide out of my seat. No one knows. I keep repeating that to myself as I turn my head to take a look at the back of my leather pants. Thank fuck there's no mark. Honestly, they'd probably believe I sneezed and pissed myself a bit over me actually having had sex with...him. Tears well up again and my throat closes. I don't even know his fucking name.
I start walking along the tree line, looking over at the soccer fields. A loud whistle blows through the air and practically scratches my eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. I wince and rub my temples. Baekhyun is at the very last field. Fuck these black leather pants. I feel like a damn moron walking in heels on grass. I nearly topple over pulling one off; but the second is easier. I shake out my fears and anxiety; no one knows.
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(For a better idea what kind of shoes Jisung wears. Jimmy Choo)
My heart clenches in pain once again. I can't say I didn't enjoy it. I can't say I never fantasised about being taken like that. Ruthlessly. Being devoured by a man consumed with lust. My cheeks heat with a violent blush. I need to get my shit together. I can't let these bitches smell any blood in the water.
„You're late, Jisung," Cynthia says in a singsong voice, but there's a ring of disdain on the end. I hope she's fucking burning up on that strawberry tweed Chanel skirt suit. Her blonde hair is in a perfect bun, showing off her too fucking large diamond earrings. She's a picture-perfect housewife. The kind of twig who doesn't even finish all of her salad and knows exactly how everything is supposed to be done and doesn't mind chiming in to correct other constantly. Yeah, she's what Jungkook thought he was getting when he married me. Fuck her.
My eyes drop to her heels. All the moms are wearing heels even though they're digging slightly into the dirt. I don't know how they don't fall on their asses. I tossed my shoes into my bag and now I'm walking barefoot. As I come up next to them, their lips turn down in frowns. Zero fucks given.
"I had an errand to run. How are our boys doing?" I give her the same fake smile she's given me before turning to face the field.
"They really need to step up their defence. How is Marshal ever going to score when the defence is this poor?"
