Chapter 12
“Please tell me Arena is here?” I called to the guys over the thumping music.
The party was in some kind of warehouse, a pretty low brow location given the wealth in the room. But it wasn’t just Cape Canyon offspring here either. They were mixing with the normal people tonight, too. The ones whose daddies didn’t make eight-figure paychecks.
Dacre rolled his eyes. “Yes, your girl crush is here. Presley made sure of it.”
My gaze landed on Presley, surprised. Were he and Arena friends or had he actually been thoughtful in considering what would make this fun for me?
He waggled his eyebrows at me, cutting from the group to head for the bar, just as Arena spotted me. She squealed and threw herself at me, both of us wrapping the other in a hug. “Thank God you didn’t get sold into a life of sucking wrinkly dick!”
I grimaced, playing it up. “Right? I might have choked and died.”
“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Dacre said, leaning in close. But I was distracted by the blonde head that had appeared at Sinclair’s side, her tongue suddenly trying to bond with his in a permanent way.
“Have you ever sucked wrinkly dick?” Arena asked Dacre, unfazed by the show Sinclair and Veda were putting on.
Veda was beautiful and Sinclair was definitely kissing her back. But there was something off about their vibe. Or maybe I was looking for a problem with them when it didn’t exist. They broke apart, Sinclair taking her hand and towing her along behind him as they threaded their way through the crowd towards the bar.
Next to me, Dacre screwed up his face in response to Arena in a way that might have been adorable if I felt some kind of way about him.
Which I didn’t. No way.
“Can’t say that I have.” Dacre chuckled, the sound making my core tighten.
Even his laugh was hot.
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of these insane thoughts.
Presley and Dacre might flirt hard with me, that didn’t mean they’d actually act on it. But they’d saved me tonight. In a way that had ensured no attention was drawn or scandal was brought down on any of us. As far as everyone else knew, Mr. Sensewell had bought me.
Yet that one caring act from my stepbrothers had shifted something inside me.
I’d been determined to push them away from the moment I arrived because life with my father had taught me it was easier to stay detached. Not to trust anyone.
And staying away from my stepbrothers stopped me from lusting after them. Although that wasn’t entirely my fault, either. They didn’t need to be so damn beautiful to look at.
But tonight wasn’t about whatever weird attraction I had to my stepbrothers. Tonight, I was going to get drunk with my friend to celebrate escaping a night of wrinkle dick and see what other kind of trouble we could get into.
Presley’s gaze landed on me from across the room where he was talking to a couple of guys at the bar. He excused himself, making his way over to us, a shot in each hand.
“Ladies.” He handed one to me and the other to Arena.
She grinned at me, clinking her glass with mine. “Down it goes.”
Presley’s gaze was trained on me as he watched me swallow.
“You girls have fun tonight.” He took the glass from my hand, our fingers brushing. I swallowed hard as a spark shot up my arm. “I’ll see you later.”
The words hung between us like a promise, his eyebrow quirking at me with loaded suggestion as Arena tugged me onto the dancefloor.
Another two shots and two gin and tonics later, I was more than a little buzzed. Arena and I had been dancing our asses off, and my skin was coated with a light sweat, my voice hoarse from singing along to the music.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a night of carefree fun like this. Coupled with the alcohol, the devil in me was ready to play.
A warm body appeared at my back, moving with me to the music. I smiled to myself, the drinks I’d consumed warming me from the inside out and had a part of me hoping it was one of the three someones it shouldn’t be pressed against me.
Warm hands landed on my hips, fingers brushing over me, as we swayed.
I turned in his arms to look up at them, a kernel of disappointment unfurling inside me.
It wasn’t any of my stepbrothers.
Which is a good thing, you idiot, I warned myself. None of them would risk being seen grinding me on a public dancefloor.
The guy was still cute though. He towered over me with blond shaggy hair that fell in his brown eyes. He smiled, hands tightening on my waist as we moved together.
For three songs, our bodies swayed, making my pulse pound in my veins as the music filled me. We were getting each other all worked up. I could feel it when he pressed closer, his heart beating under my palms when I smoothed them up his chest.
After another two songs, I was ready to combust. Only… he wasn’t who I wanted to do it with.
Glancing to my right across the room, Presley was propped up against the bar, surrounded by women. He’d ditched his tuxedo jacket and tie in the limo, his white shirt unbuttoned to expose his tanned chest, and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was so fine it made me falter.
We’d been catching each other’s eye all night, heat spreading through my body every time I caught him watching the sway of my hips to the beat.
His effortless confidence, coupled with his lean body, the sharp cut of his jaw, and the near-constant amusement dancing in those brown eyes… the boy was like a beacon. And impossible to ignore.
I kept my eyes locked on him as I grinded with my cute dance partner, our pelvises brushing together and turning me on even more. Then the girl beside Presley leaned in and he ducked his head so she could whisper something in his ear. A seed of jealousy took root in my stomach, slowly unfurling.
“Everything okay?” Arena called over the music, following my gaze. She tried and failed to hide the tilt at the corner of her mouth.
“I’m fine, I don’t have a care in the world!” I called back, dragging my eyes from my stepbrother and throwing my hands in the air to sway to the music. The move made my dress creep even higher up my legs, almost exposing my ass cheeks, but right now I didn’t care. My dance partner’s hands roamed over my ass in appreciation.
I was drunk and I’d escaped a night of being forced into sex by a man old enough to be my father, which in my eyes was a reason to celebrate. I was determined to have a good time.
Another two drinks later, I couldn’t stop my eyes from straying to Presley as I danced. I was still hot and turned on by all the grinding with the blond. But Pres hadn’t glanced my way again once, seemingly too distracted by the small army of gorgeous women surrounding him. It was driving me to madness in a way it definitely shouldn’t.
Pres was the most dangerous kind of playboy. The kind who would sell you a dream with sweet words and a killer smile… then drop you the minute the high of winning you wore off.
But I couldn’t help it. After all the grinding, my body was aching for release and my tequila-buzzed brain didn’t care that he was my stepbrother, or what scandal it would cause. All the weeks of flirting, the way he’d pushed his body against mine in the pool, the fact that all three of them had saved me tonight…
I wanted this. Badly.
I pushed from the arms of my dance partner, throwing him an apologetic smile.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” I called to Arena.
She smiled, shaking her head.
I shrugged. “What? I need the bathroom.”
“Bathrooms are that way!” She pointed over her shoulder, when I started edging through the crowd in the opposite direction.
“I can’t hear you!” I called back with a wave, slipping between writhing bodies towards Presley, until I was standing right in front of him.
I edged between the girls crowding him, ignoring their noises of outrage and protest. I resisted the urge to grip his shirt in my fist and tug him down to me so I could whisper in his ear about all the crazy hot things I wanted him to do to me. There were too many eyes on us.
Those sparkling blue eyes landing on me with a grin. “You need help with something, Dempsey?”
His tone was teasing. Playful. Suggestive.
I didn’t dare break eye contact. “Yes, actually. I need to speak with you.”
His grin never faltered, even when his eyebrows crept up his forehead in surprise at my bold move.
He leaned forward. “I love talking.” He motioned to a hallway to the left. “Lead the way, Sass.”
Edging around the gathered girls shooting me daggers with their eyes, I threaded through the crowd of revellers to a hallway at the back. If I’d been sober, I might have listened to the voice inside my head telling me to stop, to backtrack, to bolt in the other direction. But I wasn’t sober and right now I didn’t want to do any of those things.
I sauntered down the deserted staff hallway, throwing a glance over my shoulder to find Presley following me, biting his lower lip as his gaze ran over my legs and ass.
“In here,” he said, gripping the handle on a door to the left, and swinging it open.
He motioned for me to go in and I obeyed. He followed, closing the door behind him.
It was some kind of supply closet, shelves lining three of the four walls, the only light coming from the glowing exit sign above the door.
I rounded on him. “Wow, classy. You really know how to woo a girl, Pres.”
“Says the girl who was ready to bone me in the bathroom,” he said, shifting closer.
His hand closed over my hip, giving it a possessive squeeze and I shivered, the pressure of his touch like an instant promise of what was to come.
“Besides, we both know slumming it is your sad little attempt at rebellion. You should be loving this right now. Getting railed up against the detergents instead of in the back of some stranger’s limo like Mommy’s good little girl.”
My eyes narrowed, but there was no way he could see it in the dark. And what exactly was I annoyed at? That he was right? Rebelling against my mother behind closed doors was exactly what I’d done with Trenton.
“Does the sound of your own voice get you off? Because you’re doing a lot of talking right now.” My hands tightened in his shirt and I tugged him towards me. “I knew you had an ego on you, but this is something else.”
I could hear his smile in the dark. “That’s it, Sass. Rip into me. That mouth of yours turns me on.” He dipped his head, his lips grazing my neck. “You sure about this?”
I nodded and he pulled back, my lips brushing his in the lightest touch. It was all the permission he needed, and his mouth fused with mine in a claiming kiss.
Fuck. I knew Presley would be good at this, but not this good.
“I knew that lip gloss you’re always swiping on your perfect fucking mouth would taste good. Like peaches.”
I tugged his mouth back to mine.
His kiss was like a fucking drug, invading my senses from the jump. His hands smoothed over my waist and down to cup my ass, groaning into my mouth when his fingers brushed the bare skin where my skirt rode up.
Presley pulled back from the kiss. “Remind me to thank my new Mommy for buying you this dress.”
A laugh escaped me, and I slid my fingers in his hair, reaching for him again, our tongues going to war for dominance. We were already going to hell for this, may as well make it count.
His hand grazed my thigh, sliding up my side, to cup my breast. His thumb brushed slow circles over my nipple and it instantly hardened.
“Fuck me, this is the perfect handful,” Presley said, a little breathless. It was good to know I wasn’t the only one affected right now.
He pulled back, using both hands to massage my breasts and sending shivers shooting down my spine when he thumbed both nipples at the same time. He tugged at the string keeping the top of my dress together and it fell open. Dragging it down to free me, he dipped his head, taking my nipple in his mouth, swirling circles with his tongue.
My head fell back on a moan, and I gripped his head to keep him right where I wanted him. “I could die happy right now.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin. “We’ve barely gotten started. Who knew you were so easy to please?”
His teeth closed around the hard bud, biting down, and I cried out. When his hand crept under my skirt, shoving my lace panties aside, I jolted at the contact. He switched his mouth to the other side, tongue swirling around my hardened nipple before sucking it into his mouth, while his fingers worked over my clit, making my entire body heat with need.
“God, how are you so good with your tongue? And why hasn’t it been on my body from the minute we met?”
He pulled back, tongue flicking my nipple like a fucking tease. “I offered. You were too stuck up and sulking to accept.”
I opened my mouth to reply when his fingers slicked over my wet center and I let out a moan.
He gripped the back of my neck, tugging me to him, his mouth closing over my exposed throat. “You’re so fucking sexy like this, panting and dripping wet all over my fingers.” He thrust a finger inside me and I cried out again.
He pumped in and out at a torturously slow pace, his thumb creating friction against my clit while he thrust his fingers inside me. “You going to come for me, Sass?”
I nodded, too worked up and close to the edge to form a coherent sentence. It had taken a matter of minutes for Presley to have me close to the edge. It had taken Trenton a minute tops for me to realize there was no way in hell he was capable of getting me off.
Pres ducked his head again, sucking my nipple into his mouth like the fucking pro that he was. The dual sensation of his finger pumping in and out of me and his tongue swirling over me while he played with my clit, pushed me closer and closer.
“Oh my god, Presley, I’m going to…”
His thumb pressed down on my clit and the words died on my tongue. I exploded from the inside out, my body flooding with sensation. I clung to his shoulders, riding the wave of my orgasm hard. He didn’t slow down, his fingers working me over, his tongue still swirling against my skin, until my body was trembling and spent.
When he pulled back, he lifted his head and pressed his mouth to mine in a kiss that stole the breath from my lungs. “The sounds you make are so fucking hot.”
I smiled in the dark.Everything he’d just done to me was so fucking hot. But I wasn’t about to tell him that and fuel his already rampant ego.
“It was okay,” I said, through panted breaths.
I could hear his smile. “Liar. You’ve probably never come so hard in your life.”
It was the truth. But that was the last thing Presley needed to hear fall from my lips.
“Someone thinks highly of themself.” I stepped into him, my hand sliding between us to his waistband. “Time to return the favor.”
He gripped my wrist, stilling me. “No.”
I pulled back. What the fuck?
“No? Why the hell not?”
“Because sex isn’t transactional, no matter how hard assholes like Trenton try to convince women it is. You don’t owe me anything because I got you off. I got the pleasure of watching you come undone and soak my fingers.”
I stilled. “Are you being a really decent guy right now?”
Another smile in the dark. “I am a decent guy, Sass. You just don’t know me yet.”
Guilt flooded me. I’d been so busy hating on my new life and trying to stay as far away from my stepbrothers as possible, that he was right. I hadn’t bothered to get to know them at all. I had no idea what kind of men I was surrounded by now.
“So what you’re saying is, deep down you’re a decent guy with a fetish for public sex?”
He laughed this time. “Nothing wrong with a little thrill of getting caught.” He moved in close, one hand sliding along my jaw. The other cupped my breast, his thumb brushing over my sucked and sensitive nipple, making me squirm in his arms. “Besides, you fucking love it, too.”
He wasn’t wrong. The thrill of getting off in a public place you’re not supposed to, the high of knowing someone could walk in at any moment — it turned me on.
His mouth closed over mine, our tongues instantly tangling. “See you at home, Sass. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That doesn’t leave much,” I murmured, as he moved for the door.
His chuckle filtered back to me, along with the pounding music from the party.
He disappeared out the door, leaving me thoroughly satisfied and even more screwed than ever.
I slipped from the supply room, but instead of heading back to the party, I headed for the bathrooms. Locking myself in one of the stalls, I leaned against the back of the door, blowing out a long breath.
Presley wasn’t all talk. He definitely delivered on his promise to show me a good time, my body was still trembling from the comedown.
I took a moment to clean myself up, then made my way back out to the party.
“And where have you been?” Dacre asked, a knowing grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Did he know I’d been with Presley? Or just know I’d been gone for a while with someone?
He was standing by one of the bars with several guys from Triple C, who all glanced my way.
“None of your business,” I said, but there was no bite to it.
His laugh followed me as I pushed through the crowd of people searching for Arena. I guess there was no hiding the flush in my cheeks and the thoroughly satiated look on my face. I felt like I was floating on a damn cloud after the earth-shaking orgasm Presley had just given me.
When I found Arena on the dancefloor pinned between two man-mountains, a grin stretched across her face as she took me in. “I’m not even going to ask.”
I couldn’t help my smile as I shook my head.
Was hooking up with my stepbrother in a supply closet monumentally stupid? Yes.
Did I regret it? Hell no.
Arena didn’t ask for details and I didn’t supply them. Instead, we danced together for the next hour, letting a rotating door of guys buy us drinks, offering them nothing more than the privilege of rubbing up against us for a song or two.
Presley was no longer propped against the bar surrounded by a gaggle of fawning girls, a fact that made me infinitely happy in a way it probably shouldn’t.
I didn’t know where he was, but he wasn’t flirting with anyone in front of my face, which meant the jealous little beast inside of me from earlier could stay in her cage.
I was buzzed and happy when Sinclair pushed through the mass of writhing bodies on the dancefloor towards me, his usual hard expression on his face.
“It’s time to go.”
I screwed up my nose at his tone. “I’m having a good time.”
“Now, Dempsey.”
Arena’s eyes widened at the biting words. “Imagine him using that voice in the bedroom.” She fanned herself with her hand, and I fought my laugh.
Sinclair turned and took off without waiting for me, shouldering people out of his way. I rushed to hug Arena goodbye and followed after him.
“What’s the damn rush?” I asked, having to work double time to keep up with him.
He ignored me, stalking out of the club, the cool night air hitting my heated skin.
He moved to the left, the limo parked up the street. Dacre had the door open and was trying to haul a very drunk Presley into the back.
“Is he okay?” I asked, as Sin helped Dacre with their stumbling brother.
“He will be,” Dacre grunted.
Presley’s face lit up when he saw me and I couldn’t help the way my stomach flipped at the sight. Nobody had ever looked at me that way before and while I could try to fight it all I wanted, as part of me liked it that Presley was grinning at me like I meant something to him. Even if he was drunk off his ass and that look was probably sex-induced.
“Sass!” He shoved Dacre with an unexpected level of strength only the truly drunk can pull off, and Dacre stumbled into the side of the limo with a grunt and a muttered ‘fuck you, bro.’
Presley ignored him, taking my face in his hands and closing his mouth over mine. I instantly grimaced. His tongue was wet and sloppy, like I was being lapped at by an overeager puppy. And we were on the sidewalk where anyone could see us.
I placed two hands on his chest and shoved him off. He stumbled back, laughing, his back hitting the car door.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Sinclair asked, getting in his face.
Presley kept laughing. “Relax, Sin. She’d never hook up with you anyway.”
Of course I wouldn’t hook up with Sinclair. He had a girlfriend. And why the hell would Sinclair even care? He’d sooner set me on fire than invite me into his bed.
“We’re on a public fucking street. Are you trying to get yourself sent into exile by Byron? Because sucking her face off—” Sinclair thrust a finger in my direction, but didn’t take his eyes off his brother. “—will get you there.”
Presley’s face fell, a darkness clouding his eyes.
“Get in the car, Pres. Now.”
Dacre glanced at Presley, then me, some kind of judgment clear in his eyes.
Presley ducked his head and climbed in the car, Sinclair following.
“That’s an interesting development,” Dacre said.
I didn’t respond, because he wasn’t wrong—it was an interesting development. One I probably never would have acted upon if I’d been sober, but one I couldn’t find it within me to regret. Presley and I had a good time. More than a good time. And he had been sweet and giving. Caring, even.
That didn’t mean it would happen again or that anyone else needed to find out.
Dacre tore his gaze from me and turned to climb in the car. I blew out a long breath and climbed in after him.
Presley was sprawled on the bench seat along the side, Sinclair taking up the same seat he had on the way there, down the end near the driver. I slid in next to Dacre, pulling the door shut behind me and the car pulled away from the sidewalk.
“I’ve seen you do some stupid shit, bro,” Dacre said to Presley, shaking his head. “But kissing our fucking stepsister on the street where anyone could see was a dumbass move.”
Presley’s gaze slid to mine and I silently prayed he was going to keep what we’d done tonight to himself.
“How do you think they’re going to react…” he staged-whispered to me. “…when they hear that I got you off in the supply closet at the club?”
I sucked in a sharp breath, bracing myself for the fallout.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sinclair snapped, his voice deathly quiet.
I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to stay silent.
Dacre scrubbed a hand over his face. “You know what Byron’s planning, Pres. He’s not fucking around when he says that if you screw up you’re gone again. Is that what you want?”
Gone? What the hell did that mean? And why hadn’t I been told about whatever Byron was planning? He’d stressed over and over what a valued part of this family I was now. Clearly not valuable enough to share the family secrets with.
“I don’t give a shit what Byron wants,” Presley said, anger clouding his expression.
Sinclair shot him a dark look. “Only because you’re fucking drunk. In the sober light of day, we both know you’ll feel differently.”
Silence fell over the car as we raced along the road towards home.
Dacre’s tone gentled as he stared at his brother. “It’s serious this time, Pres. Byron won’t hesitate to bury you if you become a problem again.”
My face twisted with confusion. I had no idea what they were saying, but asking would be pointless. They were already speaking like I wasn’t there. So I stayed silent.
Presley tipped his head back against the seat with a sigh. “Fucking Byron.”
A loaded look passed between Dacre and Sinclair.
“It’s the fourth time this month,” Dacre said as though Presley couldn’t hear them.
Sinclair’s jaw tightened and he stared out the window. “I know.”
Presley got this drunk often? The guy was loaded, smoking hot, and could likely get anyone he wanted. What the hell did he have to drown his sorrows about so heavily?
“Why does he do it?” I asked, my voice cutting through the quiet car.
“Because I’m a pretty little rich boy, what problems could I possibly have?” Presley said, offering my own words back to me, his arm flung over his eyes.
I flinched at the accusation, given I’d just been thinking exactly that.
He let out a humorless laugh. Forcing himself to sit up, he leaned back against the seat. “Maybe you nailed it the first night we met and my mommy never loved me enough.”
I stared at him, this beautiful boy who had it all. Charming, athletic, great kisser and great at… other things. Whenever I saw him on campus or at events, he was surrounded by people, always laughing and living it up. But right now, as I watched him tip his head back against the window of the limo and let out a drunken, loaded sigh, I realized just how broken he was.
Which mom was he talking about? The one he shared with Sinclair and Dacre? Or his birth mom?
My own mom had told me the story of the boys before the wedding. Sinclair was the only biological child of Byron and his ex-wife. Together they’d adopted Dacre, then Presley. But my mom hadn’t shared any details about how or why they’d been adopted. Or why their mom and Byron had ended things. Most would look at their life and think they’d won the lottery with a dad as wealthy as Byron. But no amount of money could cover emotional wounds. Particularly those inflicted as a child. My own father has given me enough to last a lifetime.
Presley sighed long and heavy. “Fuck, I need a drink.”
He leaned forward, reaching for the bottle of vodka in the bar across from him.
Dacre snatched the bottle away. “No, you fucking don’t.”
Presley’s gaze locked with his brother’s, a silent conversation passing between them.
“Fine. I won’t have another drink.” His gaze slid to me. “So long as Dempsey comes over here and sits in my lap.”
I opened my mouth to decline, but Sinclair cut me off. “That won’t be fucking happening.”
Presley rolled his eyes. “Captain Buzzkill is back again. What a fucking surprise.”
Sinclair sat forward. “Look around, Presley. The party is over. There’s no one here to fuck or flirt with or help you drown yourself in alcohol. It’s just us and we’re not buying the little bitch routine.”
Dacre cleared his throat and Sinclair sat back in his chair, anger radiating off him.
“What Sin means, Pres…” Dacre shot Sinclair a hard glance. “…is that you need to cut this shit out. How long are you going to keep doing this?”
I stared at Presley, his head tipped back against the window once more.
“For as long as it takes to stop feeling so fucking empty.”
And if that wasn’t the saddest thing I’d ever heard from the poor little rich boy.