Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
He’s burrowed into the sofa, slouching with his head resting against the back of it, staring off.
Turin Wilcott is at his side, sitting on her legs and trying to get his attention. Her hand is on his thigh.
“Does Macon know her?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink.
She’s a Saint. Several years ahead of me in school. She must be twenty-five or so by now. Curvier, blond, and she has a hell of a lot more money, which she’s been spending like crazy since she broke up with her fiancé.
Iron replies, “I don’t know.”
I watch her lean in closer and slide her hand up his shirt, touching his stomach. His eyelids drop as the bottle in his hand tilts. Jim Beam. It’s already more than half-gone.
He raises it to his mouth and swallows, closing his eyes as the liquor goes down his throat.
I frown. “He doesn’t look right.”
Iron scoffs, dropping a few more cubes into his cup. “He’s having some fuckin’ fun for once.”
“And he’s out of our hair,” Trace adds.
I look between them, both of them busy moving on with having a good time, and it bugs me. I glance at Macon again, knowing that he’d probably subject them to verbal abuse if they tried to interfere. Or tell him he’s drinking too much lately.
They know him better than I do, I guess.
I take the shot Iron holds up in front of me, all of us tapping our drinks in a cheers before we shoot them. Peppermint burns my throat, and I close my eyes, feeling the music under my skin. I lean back into a body I know is Iron’s.
He reaches around me with one arm and picks up his drink, his other hand on my hip. “Go,” he tells Trace. “She’s with me tonight.”
I look over at Trace, his eyes flashing to me and then his older brother. I turn around, facing Iron. “I’m with you? When was that decided?”
“In the cooler yesterday.” He cocks his head. “I could’ve had you then.”
Trace passes by, leaving us to it. I’m not with him, either.
Iron watches me with those eyes, and my cheeks warm like he’s touching my face, but he’s not.
I raise my chin a little higher.
“If you’re not interested …” He starts to back away. “You better tell me now. I have to be at the police station in ten hours, and I plan on getting laid one last time. I’d like it if it were you.”
My eyes catch on fire, and the laughter bubbling up is about to pop out of my pores. Is he serious?
“Sure, absolutely,” I taunt. “Let’s do it now. Upstairs or in your car? I’ll just climb on and start bouncing.” I start to walk and pull him along. “If we do it quickly, you might have time to fit in another girl. Or two. Come on. We can be back before the beer runs out.”
I drop his hand and keep walking, leaving this fucking party. What a mistake. Asshole.
But he grabs me.
I pull against his grip as he yanks me in. “I’d like it …” he grits out, “if it were you.”
Why?
Because he liked it last time?
I jerk free as people around us turn to look. Maybe I want him with me tonight. Maybe it would’ve been easy to seduce me into staying. In a dark hallway. Up against a quiet wall. As he kissed me and slid into me nice and slow, over and over for an hour, and then took my smell with him tomorrow.
It wouldn’t have been hard to get me to stay. I knew that when I walked in here tonight. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy being seduced.
I tip my chin at him. “Truth or dare?”
His mouth twitches with a smile as he remains quiet for a moment. Then he replies, “Truth.”
“How would you fuck me?”
His eyebrows twitch in surprise, and I see a guy next to me falter in his dancing and look at me.
Iron squares his shoulders. “I want you to ride me. On the pool chair outside.”
Someone close by laughs, and others around us stop, taking notice of our confrontation.
Iron takes one step toward me. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“Open your vest,” he tells me.
Not “take off your jacket” or “remove your hat.” He’s going straight for skin.
I undo the three buttons holding the vest closed over my bare chest, watching him the whole time.
But he’s not looking at my eyes. He stares at the open sliver, an inch wide, appearing from sternum to stomach and revealing only a tease of the mounds still covered.
The hair on my arms rises, and I can’t hear the music anymore. All I feel are his eyes like a tongue running up that slice of skin.
“Truth or dare?” I ask him.
“Truth.”
“Are you big?”
People laugh, Iron smiles. “Ask your friend,” he tells me. “What was her name again?”