Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
There are so many things I wish I could say to Ash right now, but I can’t, because Dash is right here. My brother takes his seat, and Asher follows suit, picking up the place card with Dashiell Vale +1 in gold script.
“Guess this is me,” he says, arching an eyebrow, daring me to argue.
I roll my eyes, lowering myself to my seat, which happens to be sandwiched between Asher and Jackson’s empty chair.
“When he comes back, play nice,” I warn them both. “You don’t have to like him, but we can’t cause a scene here.”
Dash takes a swig of his Jack on the rocks that I can smell from here and throws up a hand gesture.
“The fuck is that?” Ash asks, and I laugh.
“Scout’s honor.”
“Dude, that’s the Vulcan salute from Star Trek.”
Dash shrugs. “Same difference.”
“Idiot,” I say, but I can’t keep from smiling. It feels good to be together like this again, just the three of us.
Until I see Jackson, heading back our way.
Chapter 9
Asher
This fucking kid can’t be serious. He ran off with his tail between his legs, but he seems to have picked up some new-found courage during his little bathroom break, judging by the cocky fucking grin he’s sporting that’s going to get his teeth knocked out here in a minute. He sits down next to Briar, and she looks at me with wide eyes, knowing that my patience is hanging by a thread.
Dash leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Keep your mouth shut, and we won’t have any problems,” he says in a low voice as to not draw any attention.
Jackson smirks, bringing his ankle up to rest on his knee. “You know what I think? I think you can talk all the shit you want, but you won’t make a scene. Not here.”
“He won’t, but I will. Don’t fucking test me, pretty boy. I have nothing to lose with these kinds of people.”
“Because you’re not one of us. You can put on a suit and tie, but you’re still trash.”
I feel a delicate hand rub my thigh, and though I know her attempt is to calm me down, she’s doing the opposite. She’s making my dick hard, and all I want is to fuck her, right here and now, to prove that she belongs to me. Only me.
“At least he’s not a snobby, elitist douchebag with a tiny dick,” Briar shoots back, shocking all of us. Dash spits out his drink, and Jackson is completely speechless, eyes as wide as saucers and face burning with what I assume is a mix of anger and embarrassment. I’d laugh if she hadn’t confirmed—for the second time tonight—that she fucked him. The thought of him touching her, of being inside her, I can’t fucking handle it. I know I’m no good for her, but he doesn’t deserve her, either. Not by a long shot.
I clutch her wrist and bring it back to her lap before curling my hand around her thigh in a squeezing grip. I feel her stiffen, but I don’t look at her.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that,” Dash says, shaking the liquor off his hand. I glance at Briar to find her cheeks bright red—either from embarrassment at her outburst. Or maybe the fact that my hand is making its way underneath her dress with her brother on one side of us and her wannabe boyfriend on the other has something to do with it. I trail my calloused fingers up her silky-soft thighs, and she presses them together. I hook my leg under hers, thankful for the floor-length tablecloths, and pull, forcing her legs to widen. Briar makes a small sound of surprise, but no one else hears it.
I wonder if she’s still wet from earlier. It took every ounce of my self-control not to unzip myself and thrust inside her when she was straddling my lap, riding my fingers. I wasn’t going to come tonight, but the more I thought about her being alone with Jackson, the more I knew I couldn’t stay away.
I went into Dash’s room and questioned where he was going. I played dumb, making him think it was his idea to invite me.
“What are you up to tonight?” he’d asked. “My mom is forcing me to go to this fundraiser to keep up appearances.”
“You want me to go with you?”
He paused in the middle of adjusting his tie, thrown off by my offer. “You’d go? I’ve never gotten you to agree to this kind of shit before.”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance, and feeling like a dick for it. “Will there be free booze?”
He smiled and handed me one of his suits that was a little tighter than I’d have liked, but it would do. And here we are.
Dash gets up and announces that he’s getting another drink, and I take the opportunity to slip my finger inside her panties. Fuck, those underwear. All strappy black and lacy framing her perfect little bubble butt. I take a sip of the water in front of me with my right hand while sliding my fingers through her slick heat with the other hand. She’s wet, so wet, and smooth. Someone takes the stage and begins their speech, but all I can focus on is the way Briar clenches around my fingers when I shove them inside her pussy, the way her breathing becomes ragged, her eyelids growing heavier, her tits heaving, and nipples hardening against the thin fabric of her dress. Fuck this.