Page 39 of Jerk
“You’re not captain anymore, Rowen, you can’t tell me what to do.” He sounds like a five-year-old.
“I’m still a Crown,” I remind him, taking another lazy sip. “So, try me.”
“This isn’t even your place.” He nudges me with his elbow, my muscles tensing. “You had to get a loan out since your dad cut you off, didn’t you?”
I slam my glass on the bar before stepping to his face. “You sure you want to keep talking?”
“Ladies.” Mac approaches, pushing between us. He hands us both a fresh glass of whiskey, the smell wafting up my nose. Scotch. “To another night of carnage.” He clinks his glass to each of ours before turning to Vince. “A minute.”
Vince nods, glaring at me like I stole his goal before he wanders back into the party.
“Did you invite him?” I ask, downing half of my drink.
“Why?” Mac takes Vince’s place against the bar. “You mad he has eyes for Hannah?”
My jaw tightens as two naked girls chase each other, running by us with giant feathers in their hands. “Now, why would I care about that with a party like this?"
Tonight is even more unhinged than the last. Guests aren’t afraid to take over Hannah’s lake house and let loose from boring studies, expectations and high standards. Students pack the dance area in the dining room, the bass rattling framed art worth more than our tuition. A small group rolls around naked on the kitchen tiles, chocolate sauce smeared over their bodies.
“You sure won’t lose your shit if I said Ember told me Hannah is…” Mac’s words trail as the party slows.
A smirk pulls at my face, seeing who walks into the living area in nothing but a sparkly lace number. It’s not black or red like the dress code requests. But it’s notnotthe dress code. It’s a strappy piece adorned with crystals, a sparkling pair oftranslucent pumps to match. She looks like a very expensive porn star from the eighties. It works for her. At least my cock thinks so.
She doesn't look angry this time, that chin lifted, those tits raised to the heavens. She walks with a confidence only she has. Like she still owns this place. Like she still hasn’t learned her lesson.
She notices my gaze, a smirk on her face. It gets warmer in here as my gaze travels around her body in that outfit. Then she winks, slipping onto the dance floor.
“You alright, Rowen?” Mac asks.
“Yeah.”
“You sure? ‘Cause you look?—”
“I’m fine.”I down my drink before slamming the glass on the bar, my feet guiding me to the dance floor.
It’s easy to spot her. She’s right in the middle of the room, the sparkle of the chandelier making her skin glisten.
She finds my eyes as she sways to the music, moving to the hypnotizing rhythm of a trance song. Those hips sway side to side as I approach her, her hands tracing up her body and through her hair. When I get to where she stands, she doesn’t stop. That confidence is back tonight. Like this is her party. Her place.
I’ll fix that.
“Rye back on the dance floor?” Her voice blends with the music in a way that makes me want to pin her against the wall. “Two parties in a row.”
She’s right. I wouldn't set foot on the dance floor on a regular night, and she knows dancing with Marisol was bait. It’s something I still cringe about, but if this is what it takes to knock her to her knees, I’ll do it.
"Making your way through the posse or just the ones that look like me?” she asks, those glossy lips upturning.
“Just the ones that make you mad.”
That pleased look fades, her eyes narrowing into mine like she’s trying to read my mind. The longer she stares, the harder it is to forget about the last party.
Moving behind her, I escape that look on her face as I bring my hips close enough to her swaying ass. Close enough that her next movement makes her press right into me. My hands come to her hips, locking her in place before I bring my lips to her ears. “Thank you for playing by my rules tonight, your highness.”
She moves with me. “Did I?”
I move my fingers under the strap of her bra, the temperature on the dance floor rising as heat swells between us. “What designer is this?” I trail my fingers along her collarbone. That spot that makes her shiver. “Looks like you spent a lot to get back in here. But you’re right, it’s not exactly code. Is another punishment in order?”
“I refuse to lower my standards to get into your silly party when it's in my home withmyfriends.” She moves harder against me. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
