Chapter 10
KAIDEN
A laughter that’s contagious has me craning my head to the right to look across the cemetery, and my lips curve into a malicious grin when I spot this year’s Hallows Girl.
Sage Lindman, wearing a little black dress that exposes her perfect fucking legs.
She must be cold, as it’s getting chillier the later it gets, and my blood moves a little faster when I think about her skin covered in goosebumps.
The clouds are thick tonight, covering the sky and creating shadows from the bright moon that hangs beneath them, but every now and then as the earth shifts, the moon is exposed enough to send Sage her own personal spotlight.
Her blonde locks twinkle under it, and when she stands up and leads her friend to the coolers, the moon shines off her milky skin.
“Soon,” Vinny whispers, sending a surge of electricity down my spine that leads straight to my balls. I hum as I lick my lips, salivating at the thought of tasting her.
Becks rubs his palms together, his voice strained. “I can’t wait.”
We all watch with predatory gazes as Sage pops the tab of her can of beer before she follows Juliet back to the bench they’ve claimed for the night. She drinks a generous amount, and I hear Vinny growl under his breath.
I perk an eyebrow at him in question once I’ve met his dark gaze, and he smashes his lips together in frustration.
Becks laughs, his dark blue eyes narrowing as he stares at Sage. “He’s worried she’ll drink too much and spread her legs for someone.”
I grunt in dissatisfaction, turning back to stare at her.
Perhaps it’s because Sage is fresh meat—legs no one in Blackmore has ever spread—but the possessiveness Vincent is feeling isn’t singular to just him.
I’m feeling it too, and the way Beckham’s squeezing his hands together tells me he is as well.
She’s ours, no one else’s…at least until November 1st.
I’m eager to dirty up her pristine exterior, turn her skin red and swollen with my touch. She’s porcelain, and I want to peel back the layers of her flesh and find the dirty parts she doesn’t show anyone. My dick pulses as if in agreement, desperate and hungry for her.
She crosses her legs, her little dress riding up, so I get a glimpse of her skin—just enough to tempt but not satisfy.
When she puts her drink to her lips once more, I do the same, pouring back what’s left in my cup before I turn to my friends and smirk. “Time to play a game.”