Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Once we’d arrived in Nassau, the ship cleared out, and we suddenly had a pool area all to ourselves. Loungers for everyone, a big pool, that burger joint was approximately fifty feet away, same with a bar, and music. Not the best music, but the kind that Cam could break-dance too, and he was always a treat to watch.
He goofed off with the other subbies—some Sadists too—while KC and I sat on the edge of the pool with our legs in the water and frozen margaritas in our grasps. Drinks all around. Lucas was reading on his e-reader and sipping something with an umbrella, Walker was enjoying a large beer and a leathercraft magazine, and Archie and Greer were cuddled up reading the same book.
Greer had shaved before the cruise, whereas Colt had bought a mustache comb.
“Be nice to him!” Cam cried out. “It’s vacation!”
I grinned into my cup as Reese and Ash wrestled Shay closer to the pool, only to shove him in there.
“We’re nice as long as you are,” Reese replied pointedly. Though, not so much to Cam as to the others nearby. “If you notice that we get a little rougher…? Look in the mirror and ask yourself—have I been a good boy lately?”
Cam became puzzled, and I couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t involved in whatever the brats were planning.
“Well, have you?” Kit demanded, staring at Reese. “Have you been a good boy, Sir?”
KC laughed.
The chase was on, this time Reese and Colt against Kit. Poor boy didn’t stand a chance. And Corey didn’t want a chance; he was all too happy to yell, “Again, again!” when Sloan tossed him into the water.
The ongoing banter and that constant push and pull between brats and even brattier Tops would’ve exhausted me, but it was fun to watch.
“Lucian, aren’t you gonna swim?” Noa hollered from the other side of the pool.
I patted my thigh. “Not yet, darling! My trunks are still wet from my last dip.”
He made a fail signal sound, clearly disqualifying my answer.
Kingsley and Tate emerged with sundaes and aimed for a couple loungers in the sun, and I didn’t know who eye-fucked their desserts more, me or Kit. I was definitely ordering one of those later. I wanted mine with hot fudge.
I took a sip of my drink as KC slipped into the water and exchanged a nod with Colt.
Oh boy. I should return to my lounger. I had to talk to Ash at some point too. I needed a favor.
“All right, boys!” Colt called. “How about a friendly game of terrific Tops versus bratty bitches?”
“I object to those names, but yeah!” Corey cheered.
“Yeah, that sounds friendly,” Macklin drawled, swimming closer to the stairs. “I’m good.”
Reese and Ash immediately began making chicken noises.
Macklin glared at them, but the final push of his button was Walker standing up and declaring he was happy to join. Now, Macklin couldn’t very well decline. And that was my cue. I scooped up some water and splashed it on my chest and shoulders, then rose to my feet with my drink and KC’s empty cup.
“Oh, come on, Lucian!” Reese hollered. “We need you!”
“The hell you do,” I laughed. “Besides, I have a note from my parents.” I turned to him and pinched the edge of my trunks where I’d attached the pin Gael had kindly given me. “See? I’m stressed. You brats have fun.”
Each side did their best to recruit team members, with the brats arguing that they should be allowed extra participants since they were so “small and cute,” in their words.
I returned to my lounger and noticed River had set up camp on the one next to mine. He was reading a book on… I tilted my head to catch the title. Christ. War and geopolitics and the second Congo War. Talk about heavy. I preferred my Kindle library of Friedman, Hayek, and Duflo. I was currently very much enjoying the latter’s findings in third world microeconomies.
“We play by the same rules we use at home!” Colt announced. “Each team defends their side of the pool, and the opponent will try to slam the ball against the edge. No throwing when you score—your hand has to be on the ball.”
I let out a sigh of contentment and took a sip of my drink.
They’d chosen their teams. Greer had left the comfort of Archie’s arms, and he’d joined Reese, Colt, Walker, and Ash to defend their sadistic egos against Corey, Noa, Kit, Cam, Macklin, and Shay. So at least the boys had one extra player. It should even the field a bit.
“We play for braggin’ rights!” Colt said. “But losers gotta behave for the rest of the trip.”
I smirked, then noticed River was suddenly eyeing the boys.
“Any leads?” I asked.
He hummed and side-eyed me. “Between you and me?”
Come on.
He knew I was airtight.