Page 17 of Stick Handled

“Damien…” she purrs behind me, sliding her hands over my shoulders, pressing her half-naked body against my back. But my attention is locked on Avery again. Her arms stretch above her head, while her little top hitches up, revealing a bit of her tummy as she twirls around, singing, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m standing here, eyes glued to her.

She’s not supposed to look like that. Not to me. The things I want to do to her are diabolical and completely unhinged. But the more I try to convince myself to shake it off, the more I realize I can’t. I can’t look away. I’m fucking addicted to Avery, and I know I shouldn’t be.

That’s Rowan’s little sister.

But fuck if my body’s not reacting anyway. Heat rushes through me all the way down to settle tightly in my balls. It’s her. She’s setting something off inside me that I’ve tried to ignore for years. Innocent, sweet little Avery, dancing around, fucking clueless.

The woman behind me sighs in frustration when I don’t respond to her, her fingers slipping lower, tracing the lines of my abs, trying harder.

“Come on,” she whispers in my ear, her breath hot against my neck. “What’s the hold-up?”

I take another sip of whiskey, my gaze still glued to Avery. The woman presses herself harder against me, her fingers inching beneath my shirt now, nails scraping across my skin. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, already feeling my dick pressing against my zipper.

I feel the woman’s lips on my neck, her body fully pressing against mine now. She’s relentless, clearly thinking she will get what she came here for. Normally, she would. But not tonight. Not ever. Not anymore.

Because the only thing that’s making me hard right now is the sight of Avery dancing in that tiny little outfit.

Shit. My hand tightens around the glass, and I take a slow, steadying breath. This is bad.

“Damien,” the woman moans my name again, more impatient this time, trying to draw me back to her. Her hand slips lower, teasing at the top of my jeans, but I barely acknowledge her anymore. My pulse quickens, but not for her.

Not even close.

“You should go,” I finally rasp out. “I’m not in the mood.”

Her fingers trail lower, tugging at my jeans.

“You’re rock hard,” she says with a sly grin, her voice a low whisper in my ear, but when I finally pull my eyes from Avery and look at her, I can’t pull the look of disdain off my face.

“I am,” I say, taking one last sip of my drink. “But not for you.”

She blinks, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “What?”

“You heard me.” I turn fully toward her now, looking her dead in the eye, making it crystal-clear. I reach into my back pocket, pull out a stack of cash, and hand her a hundred-dollar bill. “For a cab.”

Her jaw drops, and she stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Are you serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” My voice is flat, leaving no room for argument.

She scowls, scoffing under her breath as she snatches the money from my fingers and pulls her dress back on.

“I should’ve gone for Ares,” she mutters as she heads for the door. I scoff at her comment.

Ares wouldn’t even glance your way, doll.He’s very… particular about these things.

I don’t bother responding; I just keep my eyes on her until the door shuts behind her, ensuring she doesn’t take anything. When it does, I turn back to the window. Toher.

Avery’s still in her room, completely unaware of the show she’s putting on for me. She spins around again, her movements innocent and free, but to me? It’s fucking dangerous.

The room is dim now, barely lit, but I can still see enough. See her. And I don’t stop the heat spreading through me this time. The burn of want. Of need.

My hand moves instinctively to my belt, my breath coming out in slow, deliberate exhales as I keep watching her. The way she looks so carefree, so oblivious—it’s too much. The lines I have to keep between us are fucking crumbling, and I’m powerless to stop it.

My pulse pounds harder, and my eyes narrow, focused on her every movement. Avery has no idea what she’s doing to me right now, and maybe that’s what makes it even hotter. She’s untouchable, innocent, but she’s got me on a fucking leash without even trying.

I shift my stance, letting the tension in my body simmer as I glance down, my hand already at the edge of my belt.Fuck.

I pull it away, shaking my head. I down the last remaining bits of whiskey, welcoming the burn like a punishment I deserve. I’m fucking screwed.

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