His frown intensified. "You look stressed the fuck out. You got somethin'on your mind?"
Before I could answer, my peripheral vision caught Titan leaning in whispering something in San's ear. Her laugh tickled my brain, then clamped down around my ribs like a vice, sending a fresh wave of arousal right through me.
"Just…final exams coming up," I managed to say as I dragged my gaze away from my tormentor.
I typed again.
Don’t you think you’ve tortured me enough?
Again, she looked. Read. Smirked.
Then, nothing.
Fuck.
I shifted in my chair, adjusting my slacks away from the brick between my legs. The pressure was becoming unbearable. If I didn't get some relief soon, I worried I would nut in my pants right here at the fucking table.
Another familiar voice cut through the haze of lust San had me trapped in, one I recognized immediately. Ronan strolled up, grinning hard.
“Finally! I ain’t get a chance to talk to y’all yesterday. How y’all been?”
It was true, the rehearsal dinner was scheduled pretty tight. Anika was about her business, and so was the wedding planner. With that said, wasn’t much to talk about with Ronan. He was never really in our inner circle, much as he wanted to be.
Damien was right on Ronan's heels with a fine ass woman on his arm. Nobody was surprised by the fact that she was fine. Damien kept a bad one. It was the fact that she washere, at a wedding, holding his hand like they were a couple or something.
Damien was a stone cold ladies man.
Draven, his twin, was also a surprise. He looked rough as fuck. Very unlike him. No matter where we were or what we were doing, them two were always and unequivocally the prettiest niggas in the room. Seeing him like this was jarring, and it made me wonder if something was wrong.
Cruz leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “Same shit, different day, man," he answered Ronan. "What about you?”
Ronan’s eyes skittered wildly over everybody at the table before zeroing in on Santari. “Oh, you know. Big business shit. Making money. That’s how I do.”
Yeah, yeah. Always bragging. Always talking too fucking much.
Edric walked up with Lashon, taking all of us aback. That girl was a fucking nutcase, although, to be fair, all of Edric's exes could have used a little time in a padded cell. But Lashon was the worst one of them all. She'd had the nigga's condo swatted.
She was fine and all, but ain't enough titties and ass in the world to make me get over some shit like that.
I caught his eye, spreading my hands to ask him WTF. He shrugged, looking sheepish as fuck, which I took to mean it was out of his control. And given the way Santari had me by the balls, I didn't really have room to judge.
Some women just fuck your head all up. It is what it is.
I let my head get fucked upvoluntarily, though. Big difference.
Ronan turned his attention to Santari. “How you doin’,sweetheart?”
“Good,” she said sweetly. “It’s good to see you, Ronan. How long has it been?”
He rubbed his patchy beard, his eyes raking over her with barely concealed lust.
“Cruz's club," he answered. “Way too long ago if you ask me." He grinned wickedly, having no idea how dangerous that was for him with the three of us sitting here. "So…you with one of these guys?”
My jaw clenched. So did Titan's. Cruz stared blankly.
It had just gotten even more dangerous.
I wondered how she would answer that question. It could go either way, but part of me wanted this whole arrangement to stay private, especially around the rest of the brothers. We'd broken a rule fucking with Santari the way we were, and I don't think any of us were ready to explain that yet.