Page 51 of Dance With A Devil
Ryan shrugs. “Chapter one,How to Suck Cock and Survive Your Stepfather.”
“Oh my god,” I laugh so hard I have to clutch my stomach, tears threatening to spill. “Can I keep her? Please? I swear I’ll feed her and walk her twice a day.”
Karter snorts. “You’ll break her.”
“Not if I break you first.” I shoot him a grin before turning back to Ryan. “But seriously, why don’t you leave?”
Her smile fades. Something cracks behind her eyes. “It’s not that simple.” The words are whispered so quietly I almost miss them beneath the bass of the music.
“She says that a lot,” Karter mutters, eyes fixed on the bar ahead. “I’ve offered to slit his throat more than once, but she keeps turning me down.”
“You can’t kill every man that pisses me off, Karter,” Ryan sighs, brushing hair from her face.
His jaw ticks. “Watch me.”
I open my mouth to ask what the bastard does to her, but stop myself. Not tonight. Not here. The air’s already thick with too many ghosts.
Instead, I throw my arms around her. “Fuck that. I’m not letting tonight be about him. I’ve got one weekend left before the real world claws me back, and I want to forget. Who’s in?”
“Hell yes,” Ryan grins. Fred echoes it, raising her glass.
“Then let’s get wasted,” I say, dragging them toward the bar. “And not on that lime-flavored toilet water y’all were sipping earlier.”
Ryan slams her palm on the bar. “Tony! We need to black out. Make it burn, make it count.”
Tony stops mid-cleaning, grinning like we’ve just asked him to commit a felony. “Say less, baby girl. I got you.”
He nods to Karter. “You in, Devil?”
Karter shrugs, one arm already locking around my waist, dragging my back against him like he owns me. “Might as well. Not like I’m letting her out of my sight.”
His breath ghosts over my ear as he growls, “You smell like trouble, Brat. I want to bury myself inside you until that scent never leaves.”
“Mmm,” I purr, grinding slightly against him. “I was born for trouble.”
He kisses the curve of my neck. “You were born for me.”
My skin lights up like fire.
“Babe. Brat. Dirty girl,” I tease, looking up at him. “What’s next? Do I get a new title every time I suck your soul out?”
His fingers trail along my jaw, hooking under my chin. That crooked smile is pure sin. “Slut. Whore. Devil’s muse. Pick your poison.”
“You can call me whatever you want,” I murmur, pulling him into a kiss that tastes like whiskey and war. “I’m all yours.”
“Damn right.”
Tony slaps down the shots. “Careful. This one’s called ‘Hell’s Mouth.’”
Perfect.
We knock them back. The burn is savage. Ryan hisses, licking her lips. “Fuck, that hurts so good.”
“Come on, Fred.” She grabs her hand. “Let’s give these bastards a show.”
They disappear into the crowd, hips already moving before they hit the floor.
Karter downs his drink and sets the glass aside like he’s done playing nice. “Care to dance, Brat?”
