Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
He glances away so fucking fast I have to laugh. “Holy fuck, man. What’s wrong with you? Sliding into a chick’s DM’s is your signature move. You haven’t even sent her a picture of your cock.”
His cheeks flush—fucking flush—like a teenage girl as he reaches up to yank the phone out of my hands. He looks away, unable to meet my eyes. “I just umm … I … I just didn’t want to, alright? I’m taking my time with this one. Waiting until the moment is right and then I’ll shoot my shot.”
Logan booms a belly laugh. “Dude, she has to know you fucking exist to be able to wait for the moment to be right.”
“Like you’d fucking know,” Riley shoots back at him. “It took you a fucking year to even find the balls to look Chanel in the eye. So what if I want to take my time with this one. Look at her, she’s fucking gorgeous. She must have assholes like me in her DMs every fucking day. I need to do something to stand out, something that’ll get her attention, and the standard thirst trap ain’t gonna make the cut.”
I gape at him, feeling as though I’m looking at a complete stranger. The guy sitting before me looks nervous, but the Riley Sullivan I know has never been nervous a day in his life. Hell, he even looks like the thought of reaching out to this girl is going to make him throw up.
What the fuck is going on here?
Hudson laughs, snatching Riley’s phone off him to check out the girl. “Awww, Riley doesn’t know how to talk to the pretty girl,” he teases, barely sparing her a glance before handing the phone back, not interested in some other chick’s bikini pics. “But don’t worry,” he says with a wink, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “Leave it to us. We’ve got your back.”
Real fear shines through Riley’s eyes as he throws himself to his feet, his dick jumping right along with him. “If you fuck this up for me, I swear to God, I’ll make sure you never use your fucking dick again,” he says. “You’ll be pissing into a plastic bag for the rest of your life.”
Jax laughs as he stands up, hooking his arm over Riley’s shoulder, a wicked sparkle hitting his eyes. “Don’t you worry ’bout a damn thing,” he says, his mischievous tone confirming my exact thoughts. “We’ve got it covered, and besides, a little fun never hurt anybody.”
I laugh as the endless options start working their way through my mind. This really is going to be fun. Jax is right, a little fun never hurt anybody, except maybe Hudson who’ll end up pissing into a plastic bag, but considering everything, is that really such a terrible thing? After all, one day he’ll be wanting to take that thing near my sister, and I can’t have that happening now, can I?
Chapter 23
BRIELLE
Jensen leans up against the doorframe of his bedroom, his foot crossed over the other as he watches me with a stupid grin across his face. “What the fuck are you doing?” he questions as I slink down the hallway, trying to be as sneaky as possible.
“Getting the drop on Damien,” I tell him. “What else would I be doing?”
Jensen’s grin widens and I don’t like it one fucking bit, but he’s not my problem. It’s the asshole who’s been messaging my friend all day, making her all kinds of hot and bothered during school. He needs his head kicked in and naturally, I’m the perfect person to do it. The fact I’ll really enjoy beating his stupid ass has nothing to do with it. It’s simply an added bonus.
I creep like some kind of stalker, trying to ignore the way Jensen shakes his head at my performance, though he simply doesn’t understand. Jensen doesn’t have siblings, so he’ll never get the extraordinary lengths a younger sister will go to ensure her brother’s untimely demise, and he’ll never understand just how much joy it brings her.
Today’s plan—ultimate wedgie. If I don’t at least tear the fabric, it’ll be considered a fail, and those who know me understand failure is simply not an option.
I make my way down the hall, passing the shared bathroom which none of us actually use and past the linen cupboard Tanner used to use to make my life a living hell. I mean, who the hell builds a crawl space into a bedroom like that? Is that not a million kinds of messed up? But hell, when in Rome, right? After all, this is Orlando’s home, and I don’t doubt there are even more fucked-up horrors still to undercover in this place.
A shiver sails down my spine, remembering the conversation I had with Tanner only a few nights ago, confessing one of Orlando’s more sinister plans. It’s gross, there’s no other way to put it. If the asshole thinks there’s any chance in hell I would willingly marry him and become his perfect little wife or sex slave, he’s got another thing coming. There’s no way I’d ever submit to him like that. I mean, first up, he’s like a million years old and probably has a wrinkly ball sack. He’s also married to my mom and technically my stepfather. Does that count as incest? Not to mention, he’s fucking weird and creepy. The word pedophile is flashing in big red lights in my head. Sure, I might be eighteen already, but barely just legal. I wouldn’t put it past the asshole to be interested in younger girls.