Page 219 of Hateful Games

Nova

“I would like the all-American breakfast with scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and extra crispy fries. A plate of corn tortilla chips. Fruit platter and blueberry yogurt. Chocolate Belgian waffles and two mini pancakes with choc chips on top,” Rosa recites to the furiously typing waiter, her nose stuck in the menu. “Oh, and a mint mojito.”

Once she’s done, she pushes the menu away and looks up. To find everyone staring at her, with a range of expressions.

“What?” she quips. “Aren’t you guys going to order?”

“Didn’t you just finish doing that?” asks a bewildered Nathan. While his girlfriend, Iris, sits wearing the biggest sunglasses and holding her head between her palms. The poster child for hangovers.

“That was for her,” I answer him.

“Seriously?”

“She also doesn’t share,” I explain. “So, you may wanna hurry and order yours.”

The tidbit I share about my wife, who’s trying hard not to blush, leaves her two best friends gazing at me with fascination, looking impressed.

“Someone’s worked up quite an appetite,” teases Bianca with a smirk, who is sitting on a quiet Dash’s lap despite there being an extra chair at our table. “Sleepless night, Ro?”

Rosa glares, making my lips twitch.

I shouldn’t feel so smug but every time she slightly winces when she sits on her sore ass, I want to repeat last night all over again. Her moans and screams of pleasure. The sweet symphony of her begging on her knees.

Every second is imprinted in my soul.

A memory I’m going to carry till my last day on earth.

Unable to resist, I grab her naked thigh under the table. The same thigh I licked salt off before drinking alcohol off her slick pussy. Rosalie stills, feeling my palm. I track the teasing movement when she bites the corner of her red bottom lip.

By the time I was finished with her, the lipstick was a mess.

Yet she had never looked more stunning to me.

Our eyes lock for a second and they mirror my lust, replaying last night. It was this soft glance that made me break my vow of swearing off alcohol. I should be pissed I did it so easily.

Yet if she asked me again, I’d happily fall to my knees.

As long as it is her, I’m tasting too.

Iris groans in annoyance. “Why is everyone talking? And who plays music so loud? Ughh… I need coffee. What’s taking so long?”

“Tequila does that,” teases Nathan, earning a punch to his arm.

“Were there mosquitoes in your room, Bee?” casually asks Rosalie.

Bianca frowns. “What?”

“Or just a Dash-sized one?” Expression innocent, she comments, “Judging by the hickeys around your neck. Just how many are they?”

Bianca flushes a deep red, making Rosalie relax in satisfaction. The corner of Dash’s mouth lifting in male pride. Kissing his soon-to-be wife’s neck, he whispers something in her ear that has her smiling.

We’re interrupted when two waiters arrive and serve us. Most of the plates taking up the space on the table are my wife’s, who is salivating at the view.

“Oh, thank God!” gasps Iris, quickly grabbing her coffee.

Nathan smiles and stops her before she can take a sip. “You’ll burn your tongue, babe.”

Iris groans, staring longingly at the steaming mug.

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