Page 39 of Pink Poison

Stop deflecting, Jameson.

“Well, that was a shit show,” Mack says, slamming his weight into the stool next to me.

“How the hell did we get here, brother?” I ask.

“Oh, you know…” he snorts. “Back in high school, two idiots decided to start hanging around a clubhouse since they had nothing better to do.”

I fight a smile as I shake my head. Leave it to him to find a way to make this entire scenario funny. “We were idiots, weren’t we?”

His hand claps my shoulder with a firm squeeze. “One of us still is.”

“Yeah, man.” I laugh. “You should figure your shit out.”

I expect him to laugh with me or give me more shit, instead I'm met with a sudden silence. A moment passes and another until he drawls, “Is that Stone’s phone?”

Turning, I glance at the table that holds his attention. Sure enough, Stone’s phone sits where he left it. “Looks like it.”

“I’ll go bring it to him.” He slides off the bar stool. “We’ll figure this shit out, Jameson. You’re our leader for a reason.”

“Thanks, Max.” I sigh.

I wait for the sound of his boots scuffing down the hall before turning back to my phone. Thumbing through my contacts, I reach the last name:Unknown.

It’s a risk, but this guy is the best. If anyone can get us information on what happened to the club five years ago, it'll be him.

Chapter thirteen

Mack

“Thanks, Max.” Graves sighs.

Whatever is on his mind, it’s been eating at him for some time. It wasn't so noticeable before, but with the new stress in the last few days, I can’t say that I blame him for hitting his limit tonight with Kash.

Shuffling to the table, I snatch Stone’s phone and the pink thong before going to the back of the clubhouse.

“Funny you say she’s yours when she screamed my name when she came on my dick, taunted me into taking a picture of my cum leaking from her cunt, and let me take her panties to jerk my dick in later.”

Asshole.

I shuck his words from my mind, refusing to let them linger longer than they have. Besides, I doubt he was serious. Sure, he’d fuck her—he wouldn’t be the only one who has. But, he wouldn’t take pictures or keep her panties.Stone doesn't keep trophies, never has as long as I've known him. Knowing him, he probably just grabbed these when we got here to mess with me.

Probably.

Curiosity wins as I step into my room. Slamming the door behind me, I swipe through his phone, sifting through the apps until I find his photo gallery. My finger hovers over the icon briefly before I commit to the invasion of my friend's—one of my best friend’s—privacy.

This is so fucked up.

Saliva pools under my tongue as the gallery loads, revealing his most recent photo.Jesus Christ.There's no mistaking what it's of—a swollen, pink, cum-filled pussy spread open for the camera. My cock swells against my jeans as the details in the photo become apparent. A hint of a pink dress and a few wisps of pin-straight, blonde hair.

Stephanie.

I groan hoarsely as precum leaks over my tip.This is wrong.I shouldn’t be getting off to my stepsister…again.

I loathe her and everything she stands for—everything she reminds me of. Her mother is the reason thatmyfamily was torn apart. She seduced a married man into her bed and that man, like a fool, saw an opportunity to turn a whore into a housewife. His only mistake was thinking that I would play along and be the perfect, welcoming son and soon to be stepbrother.

I couldn't do anything toMarissa, but I could take my frustration out on her perfect, do-gooder daughter.

And I did. All of the hate and disgust I carried went to my little nightmare. She tried so hard to get me to like her, but it only made me hate her more. I became obsessed with her tears, like a twisted game where I was theonlywinner.

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