Page 28 of Hale's Pawn
Oran repeats Jagger’s order and he looks at us. Karessa speaks first, “Get me something good.”
Oran looks at me and his fingers curl around my ankle. “You want me to order for you?”
I nod, because did this man just order six meals and a dozen egg rolls for himself?
Oran snatches my phone from me after 30 minutes of me being inactive with them and trying to look at his fucking thirst trap comments. “Give it back,” I say.
“No. I read that too much use of a cell isn’t good for your pacemaker. It fucks with it.”
“Oran.”
“Ainslee.”
“There’s no such fucking research. Give me my phone, I’m trying to report your thirst trap,” I say.
Oran smirks. “Oh, is that right? You want me to delete that post?”
“Uh, duh! Why else would I report it?”
“Delete your pictures that I marked on your posts, then I’ll delete mine,” he says.
“That’s not even remotely the same thing. Give me the phone,” I say and reach for it on the other side of him.
Oran picks me up, placing me in his lap. He turns me around, bending my knees to my chest like I was sitting before, and wraps his arms around me. “Stay still.” He kisses behind my ear and I melt. Fuck, why does he know my weakness? “Just so you’re aware, for every picture that you post that’s even remotely sexy or where you look like if you sneeze one of your body parts will be exposed, I’m going to post another thirst trap.”
“You’re being ridiculously unfair, I swear,” I retort.
“Am I being unfair, guys?” Oran asks Karessa and Jagger.
“With suffocating the troll, no, but with this gag worthy rom-com movie, yes. Even I have limits,” Jagger says.
“You have limits?” Karessa says surprised. “You had a butt plug up my ass andthisis your limit?” she asks. “Oh shit! Sorry guys!” Karessa hides her face in Jagger’s chest.
Jagger laughs. “Don’t be shy now, sweet baby. It made you feel good though, right? There’s regular limits and Hanlon Limits.”
I’m intrigued. “Butt plugs? How do they feel?” I ask Karessa.
“You want to try it out or something?” Oran asks.
“Hmm, maybe. I’m curious,” I say.
Oran pulls his phone out, using one arm to subdue me. He places his phone in front of both of us. “I don’t hate it. We can try it and see if it’s something.” He goes to the sex shop website.
“How do you even know which one to go to?” I ask.
“It’s Jagger’s favorite site.”
Jagger smiles. “You won’t be disappointed. If you don’t know what to choose, pick the mystery box. You won’t regret it.” He smirks, winking at me.
The last person I’d trust with mystery boxes is Jagger Hanlon.
15
Oran
It’slate and after the umpteenth movie, I look down at Ainslee. She’s passed out on top of me and the little crazy is still sleeping in the same position. Does this girl not care about her body? Her curly waves are everywhere. I’m used to that, but usually it’s not in my mouth. I stretch her legs out and she groans. “Stop it, Oran,” she mumbles in her sleep.
“Even in her sleep, she’s ready to say some slick shit,” Jagger teases.
