Page 37 of Privilege
I’ll answer for you Cara: that would be an unequivocalno,no it is not.
“It’s been a while,” I wheeze. “Too busy plotting to steal your girl to keep up my lung capacity.”
The string of curses that follows as I head back inside echoes throughout the courtyard, while Cara burns a hole in the back of my neck.
Even stoned, that girl sees too much.
Chapter Nineteen
Rich
“Fix your face,” Carasays, smacking my chest. “Your brother is getting asnack,not holding us at gunpoint.”
Dane has wandered into the home theatre, no doubt drawn by the smell of the popcorn machine.
“Oh goody,” he says. He flops himself down on the couch and tosses a handful of popcorn in his mouth, grinning at me and holding out the bag. “Want some?”
“I’m fine,” I snap.
“So touchy. You never did learn to share.”
Cara rolls her eyes and takes a handful. She tosses it into her mouth but misses a few and they fall into her cleavage, where she plucks them out and eats them.
You’re so fucking cute.
She turns to kiss me, short and sweet, and reaches for the remote. Dane paysraptattention to her exposed lower back when she reaches forward but she doesn’t notice.
“What are we watching?” he asks.
“Cruel Intentions,” Cara says, and all the blood drains out of my face.
Dane arches an eyebrow. “Seriously.”
“What?” she whines. “I love this movie!”
He looks past her to me. “You’re going along with this, brother?”
Not by fucking choice. Jesus Christ, Cara, of all the movies to pick...
“I sat through all the Rocky movies,” she says with a dramatic pout. “Didn’t complainonce.”
“Any woman who complains about Rocky deserves papercuts for life,” he grumbles. He narrows his eyes at her. “Which one did you like best?”
“Rocky IV,” she says without hesitation. “Obviously.”
He nods once and grunts in approval.
I roll my eyes. “Can we just get this over with?”
Apart from Dane’s obnoxious chewing, we all watch in silence. It’s tense at first, but Cara snuggles into me under the blanket with her hand on my thigh, and I feel all three of us relax a little. At least until Reese Witherspoon gets in that fucking pool.
As Ryan Phillipe bares his ass for the camera, Cara starts sliding her hand up my leg. I swallow, dick hardening embarrassingly quick. She’s still staring straight ahead at the movie, but she sucks in a breath as her fingers brush against my balls through my sweatpants.
I swallow, try to focus on the screen, but she inches her fingers upwards, traces the outline of my dick, teases my shaft with soft strokes. Up and down, up and down. She keeps torturing me until the back of my neck is covered in sweat and my nails are digging into my palms. My hips involuntarily thrust upward into her hand, as if the fabric between us will magically disintegrate.
She takes advantage of the angle and fully wraps her fingers around my cock. The corner of her mouth quirks into a tiny,evillittle grin.
I grip the pillow and my thighs tense, chest heaving; my head drops back and I start to grind, desperate for more friction. “Please,” I whisper.
