Page 69 of You Belong With Me

Who’s calling me?

And more importantly, do I give a fuck? With a faint moan, Wyn nestles more firmly against me. In that split-second, with Wyn’s warm body molded to mine, I decide Idon’t, in fact,give a fuck—so I ignore the ringing.

But, whoever it is just keeps calling back, and eventually, Wyn rolls over to grab my phone. She glances at the screen and then hands it to me. “It’s your brother,” she says groggily.

Annoyed, I answer. “Dude, we’re sleeping. What the fuck do you want?”

Christian’s voice comes over the receiver. “You need to get over here.”

I pull the phone back and glance at the time on the display. It’s only one in the afternoon—on a Saturday. Putting the phone back up to my ear, I rub my face with my other hand and yawn. “What the fuck? The meeting with the senior counsel isn’t until six.”

“Uh, yeah, about that…” my brother hedges. “Something’s come up. Just get over here.” Then he hangs up.

“Fuuuck,” I groan, throwing my phone across the room. It collides with the wall, but the screen is already cracked, so who gives a fuck?

“What was that about?” Her voice is sleep-drenched, and the huskiness is so damn sexy, just hearing it makes me hard.

“Christian wants me over at Rush House,” I say, rolling over onto my side, so I can pull her against me. I move to kiss her, but she laughs and holds her hand up between our faces.

“Ugh!We both have morning breath!”

I move her hand away and kiss her anyway. “Get used to it, baby,” I say against her lips. “I’ll kiss you whenever the fuck I want, morning breath or not.”

She makes a scoffing sound as I climb over her and head to the bathroom. I grab her girly deodorant from the medicine cabinet, use her toothbrush, and then move back into the main living space to find my clothes and my shoes.

I’m dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, putting my shoes on, when she crawls over and starts kissing the back of my neck. I’m already rock-hard. It really doesn’t take much from her to get me there. “That’s going to get you fucked again,” I warn. She sinks her blunt teeth into my skin, and I turn on her so quickly that pain shoots through my chest. It feels like being stabbed all over again, and I must’ve grunted or something because she jerks back, alarmed.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

She’s near tears, hands up, her face apologetic. I curl my fingers around her arm and pull her into a kiss. “Put your mouth on me again, and I’m warning you now, I’ll bend you over the kitchen counter, and use any instrument handy to punish you,” I say stiffly.

She pouts. “So, I can’t stop you from leaving, then?”

I push out a sigh because I don’t want to leave any more than she wants me to go. “I won’t be long. It’s probably just some shit about the meeting tonight.” I get up to grab my phone off the floor, then walk over to kiss Wyn on the forehead. “I won’t be long. I’ll bring back some lunch.”

“Mmm,” she says settling back onto the pillow, her eyes fluttering closed.

I stare at her for a second before walking out the door, cursing as I head down the walkway to my car—waving briefly at the security guy stationed at Wyn’s front door.

Whatever Christian wants, it better be good. If it’s something that could’ve been handled via text, heads will fucking roll. I’m not even joking.

When I get to Rush House, the energy is weird. Well, honestly, the energy has been weird since Shadow and Ash rolled up and ambushed us. Everyone’s been on edge, looking over their shoulders. Fuck Sin Savano for that.

I walk past a few people in the hallway, and head straight for the study, because I know that’s where I’ll find the rest of the Sacred Sons. And sure enough, when I walk in, I see Jackson, Christian, and Ash standing around, waiting for me.

“Someone had better be dying,” I say, slamming the door shut.

Christian’s hair is wet, and he’s wearing a pair of dark jeans, no shirt, and a towel around his neck like he was just pulled out of the ocean for this.

“What is it?” I ask, annoyed. “Why am I here when I could be balls deep in my girl’s pussy right now?”

Everyone’s eyes shift to the right side of the room. I follow their gazes and see an unfamiliar chick standing next to the fireplace, hands clasped nervously in front of her.

Uh.“Who the fuck is this?” I ask.

“No fucking clue,” Jackson says with a shrug. “She popped up about twenty minutes ago and said she was here about the Shadow and Ash shit. We figured you’d probably want to hear what she has to say, too.”

My gaze moves back to the chick. She’s nothing special—average height, not skinny, not curvy, dark hair, and hazel eyes. She’s pretty, I guess, but not someone a Sacred Son would ever look twice at. Still, I can usually place a face, and I don’t recall ever seeing her on campus.

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