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Fuck.

“You know, you could be getting laid by an actually decent boyfriend,” Will says, and I realize he’s moved closer. Almost close enough to touch. “And honestly, based on the vibe I’m getting, does he even get you off?”

I snap my head in his direction, my mouth open in shock.

There’s that infuriating smirk again. “Based on that reaction, I’m going to assume the answer is, at best,sometimes.”

“No, that’s not—” I stammer, but I’m having a hard time concentrating when Will is looking at me like this. Like how he’d looked at the dancer just moments before, only this time it’s like … he wants todevourme. Like a fucking panther. Like I’m some piece of meat.

“Do you ever scream his name, Josie?” Will asks, his voice low, so low I almost wonder if I made it up. “And not for show, not to please him, not because you think you’re supposed to,” he towers over me, staring me down, “but because you can’t help yourself? Because you can’t think of any other word?”

My breath hitches in my throat, and my face is burning. Fuck, it’s hot in here. Is it supposed to be this hot? “Yes,” I breathe, forcing the word out of me whether it’s true or not. Because any other answerwould mean giving Will the satisfaction of winning this stupid, stupid conversation.

His eyes twinkle, and he snorts. “You’re a bad liar, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? What the fuck? How patronizing? But what’s worse than him using that nickname was the way my lower belly clenched when he said it. Shit, I need to get out of here. This night needs to end. Now.

“Take my advice,” Will says, leaning in so I can better hear him over the music. His breath tickles my ear, my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Is this the closest he’s ever been to me? “Find a man who’s more interested in making you come than in what you’re wearing.”

I only have a moment to register the shock before Will is leaning back up and suddenly Maureen and Jack are waltzing back over, drinks in hand.

“Here you go,” Maureen says, handing me some pink, fruity-looking thing before plopping down beside me.

“Thank you,” I mutter quietly, still in shock. I look to my side to see that Will and Jack have struck up a conversation, chatting away like he didn’t just say the most inappropriately insane things to me.

I turn back to my drink, taking a big, long sip. The dancer continues to twirl on the pole in front of us, everything on display.

Chloe has disentangled herself from Turner and has now joined Maureen and me. “Best bachelorette weekend ever,” she gushes, leaning over to squeeze my arm.

“Yeah,” I say on autopilot. “Best weekend ever.”

Chapter 8

Will

It’s 4 a.m. when we make it back to the hotel. In the room, the guys are still laughing and joking around drunkenly. One of them makes a beeline for one of the bathrooms, vomiting in the toilet.

I rub my eyes, heading for the other one. I definitely drank the least out of everyone tonight. Partly because I felt like someone needed to keep their faculties about them. And partly because I’m just not that much of a drinker. I did drink enough, however, to say that stuff to Josie.

I sigh just thinking about it. It was true. All of it was true. The way she’d looked at me when I guessedat Owen’s lack of prowess in the bedroom had nailed it. My guess had been right.

But maybe I’d been a bit too harsh. I take a piss and wash my hands. I can hear the guys settling down in the room. The tiredness is probably hitting them. I hope so. I’m ready for this night to be over. More than ready.

I sigh, staring myself down in the mirror. I hadn’t planned on upsetting Josie today. Insulting her boyfriend, then asking those provocative questions. It was just seeing her reactions to his texts, the frustration, the hurt in her eyes. And then when I’d learned what their stupid fight was about? What an absolute shithead. I grit my teeth just thinking about it.

And I meant what I’d said. That she deserves better. She deserves someone who’s not controlling, not an asshole. Someone who cares about her, someone who puts her first.

What I didn’t tell her, and what I’m barely able to admit myself, is that I wish thatIcould be that person.

Find a man who’s more interested in making you come than in what you’re wearing.The way her eyes had widened at that comment had practically made my dick hard. Fuck. Thinking about it now is making my dick hard.

I’m definitely more interested in making her come than in what she’s wearing. Although her outfit tonight had been just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen on a woman. She even paled in comparison to the dancers on stage. That deep V that had showed just enough cleavage to have me practically drooling. And the way she’d defiantly stared me down when I’d implied that her boyfriend wasn’t satisfying her. The way she’d lied to my face, knowing that I knew the truth.

Fuck, I’d wanted to take her right there. Fuck that smug look off her face and show her what a real man could make her feel. Have her screamingmyname. The only name she’d ever remember.

I hear the guys bustling around in the room, getting ready for bed. Damn, I’m not going to be able to go to bed now.

I lock the door and turn on the shower, shedding my clothes and leaving them in a pile on the tiled floor. I face the showerhead, letting the warm water hit my chest and wash over my body. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.