Page 23 of Filthy Ruck

“You don't have to know someone to want to fuck them,” Storm said. “Do you really think Frost here needs to know your likes and dislikes before he sticks his cock in you? He doesn't give a shit, do you Frosty?”

“I want to know her likes and dislikes,” Frost said. After a moment, he admitted, “But I was interested before we exchanged a word.”

“Exactly.” Storm nodded. He looked back at me. “Do you want to fuck him?”

“I wouldn't be opposed to the idea,” I said. I wanted to fuck Storm too, even while he was being a massive asshole. Burning with fury, he was hot enough to make my blood boil.

“What are your plans?” Storm directed the question to Frost.

“Dinner on Monday night,” Frost said, after a long, anxious pause. “Unless Chelsea changed her mind.”

“I didn't,” I said. “We're definitely on for Monday.” Whether Storm liked it or not.

Frost nodded and did his best not to flinch when Storm glared at him.

“Where?” Storm demanded.

“We haven't decided yet,” I said. “Can you recommend somewhere nice?” I smiled sweetly.

Storm narrowed his eyes at me. “When you figure it out, tell me.”

“Why should we?” I absently rubbed at my wrist where he grabbed me. Bruises were starting to form already. Other women would be horrified, but I was aroused. He'd left his mark on me. Physically and, to some extent, emotionally. Part of me was enjoying getting him worked up and irritated. Angry. Pushing his buttons could be dangerous, but I couldn't seem to resist.

“Because I fucking told you to,” he snapped. “I want to know where my woman goes, who she sees and who she fucks.”

“Your woman?” Frost asked. “Since when?”

“Since I said so,” Storm said. “Since you were off fucking some other woman, remember?”

Frost slid his gaze away from both of us. “It was just… Before I got to know Chelsea.”

“Everyone has a history,” I said. “I'm willing to bet Storm does. He's not the friend who knocked up your mother, is he?”

Frost bit back a smile. “I don't think you could call us best friends, no. I wouldn't be surprised if he's fucked my mother though. They both get around.”

Storm looked like he was about ready to break Frost's nose, but he didn't deny the other player's words. Maybe he had slept with his mother and maybe he hadn't. That was none of my business. The past was the past. For all I knew, I'd slept with both of their fathers.

“Wait a sec.” Frost's brow creased in a deep V. “What do you mean you want to know who Chelsea fucks?” Frost said, putting the conversation back to me. “Didn't you just imply she was yours?”

“I didn't imply anything,” Storm said. “I stated a fact. Let me state another. She can go out with other men and screw their brains out, but I want to know about it.”

“Are you expecting me to pay you so I can sleep with her?” Frost asked.

Storm lunged over the top of the table and grabbed a fistful of Frost's shirt before I could blink.

“I'm not a fucking pimp,” he snarled. “If you pay to fuck her, that money goes to her. If she lets you fuck her for free, consider yourself lucky. Consider yourself lucky that I would let you fuck her, too.”

Frost placed a hand on Storm's arm and pushed him away. “So you're saying she's yours, but you'll let me borrow her?”

Storm released the front of his shirt and sank back down in his chair. “That's precisely what I'm saying. Like if you borrowed my car, I'd want to know where you took it.”

“Thank you for comparing me to your car,” I said sarcastically.

He actually rolled his eyes. “My car is valuable. One of my prized possessions.” The look he gave me suggested he believed I was the other one.

I couldn't decide if he was hot as hell, or out of his mind. Possibly both. If I had any sense at all, I'd get up and walk away right now. Maybe I could get a placement with the Opal Springs Ghosts soccer team. Or the Sydney Devils rugby team. Somewhere far from Dusk Bay, and Storm Keller.

“This is so fucked up it's hot,” Frost remarked. He adjusted himself again. “What if I decide she's mine too?”

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