“Am I being robbed?” she whispers.

I pick up my pants and start to put them on. “Stay here!”

“No way,” she snaps, slipping her robe back on.

She grasps my arm as we slowly tiptoe down the stairs. The banging continues, but it's not on the main floor. It's coming from the basement. “You got a baseball bat or anything?”

“No.” She runs upstairs and comes back seconds later with an umbrella and a huge black cock in her hands. I'm talking fifteen inches of rubber.

She gives me the umbrella and holds the T-Rex size dildo like a bat.

“That's your weapon?”

“It's all I have.”

With her hands cutting off circulation to my upper arm, she quietly pushes me toward the basement door. “You ready?”

She nods quickly, her face pale.

“It'll be fine,” I tell her.

I open the door and creep down the stairs.

And when the source of the noise comes into view, I almost puke.

All I can see is the top half of Raper Face. He’s shirtless and most likely pounding someone from behind. Luckily, the back of the couch hides most of their action. “What the hell is this!” Cynthia screams, the same time I yell, “Allie!”

“Fuck!” the guy yelps, standing quickly and distancing himself from everyone. He throws his hands up in surrender. “What the hell is going on?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Cynthia screams, walking toward them.

“Liam,” he stutters, his entire body beet-red.

I turn away—my mind reeling. I don't want to see Allie like this. And I really don’t want to explain what I'm doing here.

The girl squeals, “Mom!”

“Mom!” Liam and I shout at the same time. I turn back quickly, just as the girl comes to a stand; raven black hair and golden skin, just like her mother. I blow out a relieved breath—thankful it's not Allie.

The daughter pulls her panties back up and pulls her shirt down to cover her breasts.

“Where's Allie,” I ask Liam.

“Dude, she got a call when we were at the bar and—”

“Who the fuck is Allie?” Cynthia's daughter asks, slapping him on the chest. She doesn't even seem to care that her mom just busted her mid-screw.

“I swear to Baby Jesus, Camilla!” Then she starts to shout in Spanish. Her daughter shouts back. Somewhere amidst their shouting, it's revealed her daughter's only seventeen. That's when Liam's eyes go wide and all blood drains from his face. He takes a step back and away from the two women—uh, one woman, one underage girl—and starts to get dressed. They don't even notice him backing away—they're that heated. Then, Cynthia's daughter slaps her hard across the face.

I grimace, but I don't think it's my place to step in.

Fire flames in Cynthia's eyes and the next thing I know she's beating her seventeen-year-old daughter with the giant black cock. Over and Over. Her daughter tries to block the hits, but all she's doing is making her Mom angrier.

It's almost like the dildo has a mind of it's own, flopping so many different directions and bending in ways dicks should not bend. “Camilla Maria Jose…” something something I can't make out.

Cynthia's pissed.

And she has every right to be.

“Hey, I'm Liam,” Raper Face says, standing next to me now. He has his hand out, waiting for me to take, like this is really an appropriate time to start making introductions. I ignore his hand and look back over at the girls.

It's like a train wreck—I can't look away.

It's also entertaining as shit.

I dated this girl once. She asked me to come over to her dorm and told me she had a surprise. My surprise, apparently, was her little sister…also the girl who I'd hit on the night before and tried to get her number. It only took two minutes for her rage to hit full peak and when it did, she removed her flip-flop and started whacking me with it. A minute later her sister thought it’d be a good idea to join in. She was wearing pointed heels.

I had welts on my skin for days. Neither girl spoke to me again.

It's basically what's happening now. Only the flip-flop is a gigantor size cock. I wonder if her daughter will end up having welts the shape of a cock head.

A chuckle bubbles out of me. Cynthia turns to me with the same fire in her eyes she gave her daughter. “Sorry,” I mumble, crossing my arms and trapping my lips between my teeth.

“You think this is funny?” Cynthia yells.

Her daughter stops laughing and controls herself enough to overpower the ram-rod from Cynthia's hands. She jumps on the couch in nothing but her shirt and panties, and holds it above her head and out of her mother's reach.

Her daughter laughs harder and waves the cock in the air. “Holy shit, Mama! Where did this come from?”

“Give. It. Back,” Cynthia snaps, trying to reach for it.

“Oh my god…” Her daughter’s face falls and she points the dildo at her mother. “Is this why you moan Wesley Snipes at night!”

***

Allie's sitting on my desk with textbooks in front of her when I get back to the house. Chase is on my bed, doing the same thing. “What's going on?” I ask Allie. But she doesn't look up from her books.

I eye Chase. He shakes his head and says, “How was your night?”

“Didn't go as planned.”