Page 27 of Sweet Chaos
“My dad always wanted to buy The Surf Lodge,” Shane said.
I knew that.
“I told him when I won the world championship, we’d buy it.”
Knew that too. Jimmy had told me that when Shane was in prison. Andthatwas why I’d bought the hotel. If I didn’t already know that Shane would throw it back in my face and refuse to accept, I’d give him an equal share. But he’d never accept it, would look at it as charity, just as I would so I didn’t even broach the subject.
“Shane,” Remy said softly, her lower lip trembling, and I was worried she might burst into tears. “You could have been the world champion. Youshouldhave been.”
I drained my beer and turned my back to them, tossing my empty bottle in the trash.
“Hey. Firefly. None of that. I’m happy. I have more than I could ever possibly have dreamed of.” He held her gaze until she believed that he was telling the truth, and I suspected that he’d had to reassure her on numerous occasions but would continue doing so until he took his last breath if necessary. Satisfied that she believed him, his gaze moved from Remy to me. “My dad would be so fucking proud of you.”
I hoped so. I’d done a lot of bad shit in my life, but Jimmy had never judged me. He’d supported me and made me dream bigger. Made me believe that I could be something better than a thug or a drug dealer. While Shane had been in prison and Remy had taken off to pursue her modeling career, Jimmy and I had gotten close. He was one of the best men I’d ever known. Shane had been blessed with two good parents and cursed when he lost them both. His mom had been killed by a hit and run driver when he was just a kid. Then his dad had died of a brain tumor a little over a year ago.
Life was so fucking unfair.
* * *
I left Remy and Shane in the kitchen and followed the music up the stairs to the second floor.
Stopping in the doorway of the baby’s room, I leaned my shoulder against the doorframe and watched Scarlett shaking her ass to “Truth Hurts” by Lizzo. I smothered a laugh as she sang along giving it a whole lot of attitude and gestures. She was going for it, oblivious to the fact that I was watching. Her back was to me, the paintbrush in her hand forgotten as she shimmied low, her ass nearly touching the floor before she shimmied back up, never losing her balance. It was like a soft porn show.
I was hard as stone.Again.
Which was fucking inconvenient, all things considered.
A minute or two later, Scarlett spun around and let out a yelp, her hand going to her heart. “Oh God, you scared me.” I smirked as her gaze drifted down to the erection tenting my gray sweatpants then returned to my face. She blushed. It was cute.
“Nice twerking.”
“Glad you enjoyed the show, perv.” Her eyes lowered to my crotch again. Let’s face it, it was hard to miss and impossible to hide and I was too shameless to care.
“Like what you see?”
“I’ve seen better.”
I gave her a slow, lazy grin and advanced on her until her back was against the wall. “Doubt it.”
“How would you know?”
“If Shaggy Doo is anything to go by, your taste is questionable. Let me guess. He has one position in his repertoire. Missionary.”
“Stop calling him Shaggy Doo. And there’s nothing wrong with missionary.” She rolled her eyes. “Why are we talking about sex?”
“Why do you keep ogling my junk?”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Because it’s prodding me in the stomach. Get it away from me.”
I laughed and stayed where I was, standing right in front of her, my dick prodding her stomach. She had paint in her blonde hair and a streak of blue on her cheek. That, and the fact that my dick was calling the shots, distracted me from giving more than a quick glance at the ocean scene she was painting. Dolphins? Starfish? Some type of sea creatures. I brushed my thumb over her cheekbone, smearing the paint across her face like war paint. Making it worse, not better. Her lips parted slightly, and her chest heaved. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.
There was no real moral dilemma for me here. I wanted her. Plain and simple. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to hear the sounds she made when she was coming on my cock. I wanted to hear her scream my name and beg for more. Was she dirty? Did she like it rough? I wanted the answers to all those questions.
We were two consenting adults. My relationship with Sienna was over. We didn’t stay friends because we’d never been friends, and our split had been messy and final. I rarely thought about Sienna, and whatever we’d once had felt like another lifetime ago.
Besides which, Scarlett was nothing like Sienna. She was stronger. More honest. Truer to herself. With an innocence that Sienna never had. It was sexy as hell.
Frankly, I was coming up empty on reasons why weshouldn’thave sex. My mind was running wild with possibility and my throbbing dick was trying to worm its way out of my sweatpants and bury itself inside her sweet little pussy. It was all I could do not to shove her against the wall and fuck her senseless.
