Page 63 of Coming Up Roses

"Feels so good," she moans as she leans back into me. Burying my face in her neck, I press a small, open-mouthed kiss right below her ear.

"Well, aren't you two cozy?" My eyes pop open, and Myla Rose shoots away from me as if she's been scalded.

"T–Taylor. I thought you were off at school?"

"M–Myla," he mocks. "It's called summer break. Surely, you aren't that dense? Then again, you are a high school dropout." His words hang heavy in the air, and when Myla Rose dips her head in shame, my blood boils.

This beautiful, strong, stunning woman has nothing be ashamed of, high school diploma or not. And fuck this ass-clown for trying to make her feel like less.

"Taylor, just go. I mean, good Lord. Don't you have better things to do?"

He gestures to a few yards away where a buxom brunette is standing, watching us like a hawk. "Sure do, Myla." He turns to head back over to her, but calls out over his shoulder, "By the way, you're a little . . . big to show that much skin, don't you think?"

Myla Rose fumbles around for her cover-up, trying several times before finally getting it over her head.

I’m so done with this idiot. "Now, you wait one fucking second. I don't like the way you're talking to her."

"And I don't recall ever asking your thoughts on the subject. I'll talk to her however I damn well please." He puffs out his chest and squares his shoulders to intimidate me.

Please. The only person this douche is capable of intimidating is his own shadow.

I stand, rising to my full height, making sure he has to look up to see me. "You need to go."

He bristles at my tone and takes a step back. "Yeah, whatever. Have fun with my leftovers, dude."

I rear back, but the little fuck turned and tucked tail before I could swing.

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