Page 23 of Savage Suit
A wave of homicidal rage swept over me. My little sister had disturbed me because she wanted to see two sweaty guys pound each other into a bleeding pulp.
Closing my eyes, I clasped my hands and centered them against my chest. I inhaled deeply. “Ohhhmmmm,” I chanted on a long exhalation. “Ohmmm.”
Fuck, it wasn’t helping. Sheer willpower kept me from storming to the sofa and choking the shit out of her. “You woke me up for that? What makes you think I want to see two grown men injure each other?”
“I know. I know it sounds crazy.” She held her hands up. “You hate martial arts and prefer boring-ass yoga, but TT is performing.”
“Who the hell is that?”
“Tristan ‘Twinkle Toes’ Thornton.”
Words escaped me. Perhaps my brain screeched to a shocked halt. Incredulous, I stared at her, wondering what grown man went by the moniker Twinkle Toes. No, whatadultwould call themselves that? “Yo, get the fuck out of my apartment. I’m going back to sleep.”
“YOLO,” she teased with a grin.
My eyes narrowed, and she broke into peals of laughter, so contagious I couldn’t help but smile.
“C’mon, Ryan. He’s excellent, I promise,” she pleaded, her attempt at puppy dog eyes not moving me.
“Who calls themselves Twinkle Toes?” Folding my arms again, I grumbled, “Isn’t that an outdated derogatory term? Does he even know the meaning?” Did Quinn?
“Wait, it’s offensive?” she asked, baffled, answering the question she didn’t know I had. “It isn’t a reference to the cartoon Avatar: The Last Airbender?”
Oh, for God’s sake. “You thought your MMA man just named himself after a bald child monk?”
Her dark eyebrows scrunching together in confusion, she nodded.
Why I felt so surprised, I wasn’t sure. Quinn could be surprisingly innocent despite her gaggle of men. Heaving a dramatic breath, I walked to the couch and threw pillows and blankets aside. Once I sat beside her, I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Quinn, I love you, but you’re an idiot.”
I could never out-drama her.
Gasping with thespian precision, she widened her eyes and placed a hand over her heart in mock hurt. “Rude! And since you’re so smart, what does it mean?”
“You’re twenty-three, little sister. If you don’t know what it means by now, you never will.”
Groaning, she shrugged my hand away. “TT didn’t name himself. He lost a bet and got his name.”
“I’m not interested in MMA or suffering through a performance of someone with that dumbass name.”
“Ignore the name. He’s so fine, just come to admire him. Think of the finest dude, multiply by a billion, and you have him.”
Wondering how my little sister turned out like this, I shook my head. “If I wanted to see a good-looking man, I’d scroll on Instagram or get my ass up and walk around town.” Or, even better, go to Keegan Enterprises to glance at Noah. He was incomparable. Breath-stealing. Panty-melting. “Now, leave,” I said, sharper than intended because of my Keegan cogitation. “I have to look for a job or something.”
“Or something? You say it like it’s an excuse instead of a fact.”
“I’m so close to dragging you out of my house.”
“For someone who hates violence, you threaten it a lot, especially regarding my person.”
“Quinn, fu—”
“C’mon, Ryan,” she pleaded for the hundredth time, stopping a stream of curses from flowing. “You’re unemployed, your bills are overdue, and you haven’t gotten dick since…” She paused, then sighed. “Since forever.”
The masquerade ball Quinn had dragged me to rose in my head. Noah’s image intruded, and my pussy throbbed as if the hot fucking I remembered wasn’t a wet dream but a reality.
For a moment, that night replayed in my head. I saw him leaning over me, his lips descending to mine. But they were no longer mystery lips; they belonged to Noah. The non-descript eyes were ocean blue, deep and mesmerizing.
My nostrils flared, and I swallowed.
