Text message incentives
Rope!
That bitch!
He's watching Turners door and he's sure if he stares any harder at the wood it'll burst into flame.
God she's probably tying him up right now. Tying his hands to his bed frame with those knots she's apparently so good at.
Naked on top of him eyes dark, that damn smirk on her face.
No.
No.
He can't stand it.
He storms down the hall and throws the door open. She doesn't actually like Turner he just knows this is to punish him.
Turner turns to look at him as he stands what he hopes is imposingly in the door.
It takes a minute to take in the room.
She's not there in any state of dress and Turner is sitting at his desk doing what looks like econ homework. He looks at the bed and it's still made.
She's certainly not straddling Turner on the bed naked with rope in her hands at all.
"She left?"
"yeah." He points at the open window and Dick goes to it looking down at the drop to the ground.
"That bitch." He turns on his brother, "what did she say?"
"Basically she wanted you know she's very skilled with knots."
God he wanted to know how skilled. It had to be all that camping she did with her family.
God where can he get some rope?
He grumbles something to Turner about not touching her and goes back to his room.
Looking longingly at the corner bedroom on his way.
On one hand he had the promise of Mac doing whatever she wanted to him, having her dominating over him held a kind of thrill he'd never felt before.
On the other hand he had a presidency bid riding on this game.
On the front lawn with her dark eyes on him and her hot hands ghosting across him she had promised him sex no matter the outcome.
So there was that but the idea of her with that wicked smirk on her face just absolutely did it for him.
He wanted to lose.
God was that her plan?
Was she playing him?
Yeah she absolutely was.
Just like she had played Adam and Turner. She was spending too much time with Nancy Drew. She'd taken to shifting herself into what the target wanted a little too well and he had this feeling that she wasn't any of the girls she was pretending to be.
He wasn't sure he cared as long as she played that game long enough to finish a couple of rounds with him.
He dropped onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling.
God Cassidy would have loved this Mac. This bold thing that heated the skin and occupied so much of his mind with her promises.
Oh god.
He had loved this Mac.
He remembers him coming back from wherever with Mac and laughing and holding her close, her hair a mess and her skirt twisted around and Cassidy's face flushed to match hers.
Talking about how she was natural.
God. He'd put money on them being at the range.
Since when did he have this in common with his psycho little brother?
Ninth grade he supposes.
He just has to remember that she's playing him. Yeah well he's been playing girls for years.
A seasoned fucking veteran.
He'd have her begging for him so badly she'd throw the game.
He'd plough his way through the game tomorrow and he'd be in first place. If he was in first she'd come for him.
He'd make her know what he was oh so very skilled at.
He also made a note to stop at a hardware store and get some rope. He'd bet she'd like that rough stuff best.
It was ten to nine and he'd never seen the house so empty. The place deserted and he knew why.
There was a picture of Mac on the fridge, Chip's handwriting across the top of the photo.
Pi Sig enemy no.1
He smirks taking a travel mug from above the fridge and fills it with some of the too strong coffee
He needs to be alert if he's going to move to first place by tonight.
He also has a test in something or other today. Something in a class he had with Logan. Whatever he was more interested in making Mac want to throw the game and throw herself into his bed.
He wondered if he got her out early if he'd be able to fuck her until the game was over?
He opens the front door and the street is deserted. He makes it to his car with no problems. He has to swing by the swimming pool to claim his target before he heads to class anyway.
He's parked outside the pool doors when his phone goes off.
It's a text message from an unknown number.
A picture.
It's a picture of a tabletop. There's a pink paint ball. The picture is close enough that he can see that some things written on the 'bullet'.
Dick.
Oh Mac.
Smirking he sticks his phone in his pants and takes a picture.
It certainly wasn't the first time he'd sent a picture of his junk to someone before but it had never felt this much like foreplay before. Like she might actually send something back.
Good girl Mackie being all bad the second that plastic gun hit her palm.
It was messy sure but he didn't mind it so much.
He rolls down his window and sets the barrel of his gun across his arm and lets the blue paint fly.
There's a squeal and then some very unladylike swearing before a red-head appears at his car window and throws an envelope at his face.
Seems the theta's have some sore losers of their own.
His next target was a brother, Peter Ferris.
Fuck he'd be at his doctor-y lecture junk at the hospital until noon.
He could of course skip his morning class, and just shoot him down at the hospital. If he ended up at the police station again Logan would just bail him out.
His phone goes off again, probably Logan wondering where the hell he is.
It's Mac.
It's another picture.
he chokes on his coffee, because it's a pair of underwear, hanging off her sneaker, silky lacy black things, because what else would this Mac doppelgänger wear.
That's the bathroom in the Hull building. He could probably make it there pretty quick.
He's trying to think of the fastest way there when his phone buzzes again.
Mac: If you're a good boy I'll give you a present...
Oh she's got to be playing him, he'd like to think that she'd want to actually give him that kind of present, that when he gets back to his room tonight that she'll be sitting on his desk in just some heels her hands twisting around some of that rough rope but he knows it's not like that.
That isn't her end game.
But it's his.
Dick: What are you wearing? Show me.
He waits his hand gripping the steering wheel like he means to break it.
She's not going to send him anything.
She's going to chicken out...well normal Mac would chicken out, but this Mac...well there was still hope that she'd send him an upskirt. If she thought it would distract him enough she might, because well he was obviously her only real competition.
His phone goes off.
God it's a picture...
Thank you lord
He wouldn't mind losing some time to that...
that bitch.
It's a picture of Mac all right but the only thing naughty about it is that there are two Theta's in the picture with her, bright pink paint across they're pep squad uniforms hugging Mac.
Mac: double kill in the locker room. Good thing there are showers here, Misty and Ashley want me to help get them clean.
Oh that bitch, that super hot bitch.
He tosses his phone to the passenger seat and peels off towards the hospital.