Page 41 of Trading Paint

“Well he’s still an asshole.”

“He’s your friend.” She pointed out.

“He’s still a dick.” I repeated rolling over on my back to stare at the white ceiling.

“We should find new people to have sex with.” She mused tiredly.

“Like each other.” I breathed softly.

Her eyes were closed so I assumed she couldn’t hear me. That wasn’t the first time I’d made sexual innuendos toward her but she never took me seriously. I was constantly telling her what a nice ass she had but she always blew it off as teasing.

“Yeah,” she answered and rolled over, leaning in to kiss my cheek, her eyes closed. She intended to kiss my cheek but just as she did that, I turned my head and our lips met.

The spark sent a jolt of electricity to the exact place I didn’t want it to. Her lips stayed connected with mine before returning the kiss with another one, and then another as she shifted closer to me.

My hand rose hesitantly and cupped her cheek as I leaned in for another kiss, my lips parting ever so slightly, breathing her in. She felt amazing, she felt right. I wanted herbadly.

I did the only thing I knew to do and that was to shift away from her, hiding my arousal. Sway didn’t need this. She needed someone better and not Cooper or Dylan.

Hell, I would never think anyone was good enough for her, including me.

“Goodnight Sway.” I whispered and kissed her forehead once before turning away from her.

Through years of experience and extensive observation, I’ve determined my brother is clinically insane. At least that’s the only rational explanation for his behavior that I could come up with.

First off, sleeping in a hotel room with Spencer was a risk in its self. Second, waking up alone in a hotel room with him was even worse. Just like any other volatile animal you never knew when he’d attack and for a reason unbeknownst to me, I was his favorite target, besides Sway. If he could knock us both down with one hit, he’d do so.

So there Sway and I were, lying in bed, alone. Everyone else must have gotten up to eat breakfast.

Yawning and stretching I went to move my arms above my head when I realized I couldn’t. They were handcuffed...not to the motherfucking bed but worst of all, to Sway.

This wouldn’t have been so bad if I wasn’t half-naked, as was Sway and Spencer fucking knew that. It’s exactly why he did it.

He may be a deeply trouble sadistic asshole but stupid was not one of his qualities.

This was not the ideal situation for a number of reasons but all that flooded through my stupid teenage brain were pornographic images of Sway in handcuffs and all the things I would enjoy doing to her.

Consequently, this resulted in an embarrassing reaction that I couldn’t cover up because my hands were handcuffed.

Thank god for the blanket.

I pulled on the chain, the clanging of the cuffs hitting against the metal framed bed caused Sway to stir.

“What the fuck?” she shouted realizing her hands were cuffed.

The sequence of emotions that displayed across her features would have been entertaining if we weren’t handcuffed.

“Fucking Spencer,” She grumbled and slumped back against the bed.

If there is one positive thing I can say about Spencer, it’s that he never does anything half-assed. The crazy son of a bitch had somehow removed my jeans leaving me in my boxer-briefs.

I moved my legs to relieve the pinching on my wrists when the blanket slipped off both of us pooling on the floor. This also wouldn’t have been so bad until my reaction to the pornographic images was revealed.

There was no way to hide it.

I was mortified. Sway was entertained.

“Ummm...are you okay?” she asked in between giggles.

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