Page 80 of Pawn

A bass-heavy song blares from the kitchen, slow and hypnotic and when I get closer to the room, it’s not the only thing that’s hypnotizing. A group of guys from the hockey team stand around the kitchen island, hooting and hollering at whatever drunk girl is in front of them. I can’t make out who it is but they’re as mesmerized as dogs in a mirror.

“King!” Tommy from the team spots me at the entrance, staggering over with a green beer bottle in his hand. “Man you’re missing out.”

That’s when my eyes land on those boots before I follow it right up to those swaying hips. That slender waist. Those round tits tucked inside a band tee tied above her navel.

Slender arms move with the swing of her body, ringed fingers going through a thick head of curls. She seems completely lost in the music, her hair moving around her with the turns of her head.

“She’s hotter than I thought,” Tommy says.

He’s lucky I’m already walking towards her too quickly to put my fist through his face. These guys are all looking at her like she’s a piece of meat, a piece of “ass”. Like anyone of these assholes could actually have her. Like they forgot who she belongs to.

“Get down, Rowland!” I reach for her hand but she pulls away, finally opening her eyes. She looks surprised at the attention around her but when she sees me her red lips curl up in a smirk. It’s a lazy smirk. One that tells me she’s way too drunk to be here. Especially without me.

“What?” she asks, turning her ass to me and looking over her shoulder. Her hazel gaze has sparkles around it like she dolled up for this event, ass looking like a shiny black fruit in that leather skirt. “Not enjoying the show?”

“Jo,” I growl. “Get down. Now.”

“I don’t think Babygirl wants you here,” Tommy’s behind me and he’s being a cock. But I’m too focused on getting Jo down before she, or someone else gets hurt.

“Tommy,” I warn. “You say another word and my fist is flying through your teeth.”

“Try it.” He’s had way too much to drink with the way he’s approaching me with his fists slamming on his puffed-out chest. But from the corner of my eye, I see another guy reaching for the hem of her skirt. So I ignore Tommy and go right for him.

CRACK!

My fist lands in his face and before he can register what happened, I’m wrapping my arms around Jo’s legs. Her chest hits my shoulder when I pull her away from the crowd, getting a round of boos. When we’re out of sight of those idiots I finally put her down, getting a better look at her, and fuck, she looks perfect. Too perfect for these assholes. The Hendrix tank she’s wearing is loose enough to show off a glimpse of her tits.

“The fuck do you have on?” I ask. “And what the fuck are you doing up there? You that desperate for attention without me?” She smirks like she knows she’s getting under my skin. “I thought you liked it when I show off my legs.” She lifts the hem of her skirt, giving me a clear view of those buttery thighs.

Trying not to make the situation any worse, I take her by the hand and it’s hard to ignore that shock I still get when we touch. The desire that comes over me to throw her down like a fucking caveman and make her mine is unbearable. But it’s time for the second reason I’m here and trust me, they go hand-in-hand as much as we do.

“Where are we going?” she asks as I pull her behind me, heading through the foyer and up the stairs. Pushing open the door in every room I come across, I’m not making any quick progress.

“Where’s Lea?” I ask, a couple scrambling under the sheets when I open another room, a pair of balls in my face.

Jo hasn’t pulled away but she still protests, her words a slur, “What? Why? Are you gonna make her handle me for you?” She gives me a drunk snort before my body pins her against the hallway wall.

“Only I can handle you, Medusa.”

“You gonna do that now?” Her head hits the wall, glossy eyes flicking towards my lips. “You gonna handle me, King?”

Her words and those eyes make my abs clench, my cock throb but she can hardly stand. “How much have you had to drink, Rowland?”

“Why are you always riding my ass about drinking?” She gives me a giant eye roll. “You do the same thing when you’re hurting.”

“You’re hurting?” It’s hard for my finger not to come under her chin, lifting that gaze back to me.

Her eyes narrow and I catch her swallowing hard before she says, “Yes, it’s all you do. Hurt me.” She chews on her cheek before she asks, “Don’t you remember? Or should I call Craig?”

That reminds me of what I’m here to prove. Resisting the urge to press my lips against hers, I pull her along, heading to Allie’s room. “C’mon, Rowland.”

“Tell me where we’re going,” she demands before I barge into Allie’s room.

“Geez! What the fuck?” Allie yells, Lea on top of her with a brush in her hand, clothes still on. Thankfully.

“You’re here?” Lea asks in a beige knit sweater, her eyes on us in a matching plaid headband. “So much for a classy party.”

“Rowland dancing on top of the island isn’t classy,” I mumble, closing the door behind me.

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