Page 72 of Cherry Beats

Rhett looked up at me through hooded eyes and smirked. “I’m all for having a little fun and pissing him off, if you are.”

“If I were a cat, I’d have used eight of my nine lives already tonight by pissing Presley off.”

“Just my luck.” Rhett sighed, letting go of my hand before he spun on the heels of his boots and pointed a finger at Presley. “You’re a dick.”

Presley unleashed a hand from his pocket, cupped his cock, bit down on his bottom lip and gave a gentle thrust in Rhett’s direction.

“But damn, you’re a handsome one,” Rhett cried, acting like a super fan before he burst into a fit of laughter and wrapped his arm around Dexter. “Come on, D-Dawg. Let’s get you a drink and leave these two lovers to screw until they’re blue.”

“That’s a mental image I didn’t need, kiddo,” Dexter grumbled, holding my bag out to Presley.

I reached over to grab it, but one look of disapproval and shake of the head from Dex, and I was quickly dropping my arm back down by my side. Uch. Like I couldn’t carry my own bag, for Christ’s sake. But when Presley stepped forward and slung it over his shoulder like it didn’t weigh shit, I found my smile growing wider. Why it was okay to be made to feel like the weaker sex when it was by a man you wanted to drop to your knees for, I’d never know.

I never pretended to have morals when it came to him.Him, with his brooding eyes, ridiculous swagger, and those lips I wanted to lose myself in for eternity.

Presley held out his free hand, and I took it like a starving prisoner would take a plate of chips from a well-fed kid.

Blushing for the second time, my whole body began to tingle as I stood there, watching him eye-screwing me up and down. When his attention landed on my Bryan Adams T-shirt, that sexy little smirk of his turned into a full-blown toothy grin.

“What a way to make a horny guy go limp.”

“Jealousy does that to a man.” I smiled up at him.

“Not denying that.”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“Furious,” he whispered.

“You’re terrifying. Truly,” I teased.

“Give me time.”

He sighed through a smirk and led us forward down a narrow corridor before he turned to twist a handle on a white door. He held it open for me and nodded for me to step through. I did, never taking my eyes off of him until I was over the threshold. His eyes were alive with electricity, flickering between anger and annoyance, to calm and peace. I wanted to jump on him right there, but thought better of it, slowly turning around to look at the room, feeling my butterflies turn to a swarm of buzzing, erratic bees.

A super king bed sat against one wall; the floor space insane. You could have had a game of cricket in there and still have space for spectators to watch. I had no idea why anyone would need that kind of room to just… walk around. In the middle of the suite were two small sofas and a coffee table between them. I couldn’t even see around the corner to my right, so I could only imagine what else was there. A bar? A swimming pool? McDonald’s? Who knew?

Presley’s sexy huff of laughter blew in my ear as he came behind me to rest his chin on my shoulder, not saying anything for a few heartbeats—just letting me look at all that was his for the night.

“Welcome to the dream, Cherry. We’re in my world now. The rules are different here. No more running away.”

Chapter Twenty

Ilooked up again. He was in front of me, and I knew everything I’d been trying to hide or fight was shining out of my eyes. I wanted him. The whole world wanted him, but I wanted him more.

His hair hung forward. His hands were by his sides as he stood there, taking in every inch of me like he was seeing me for the very first time. Presley’s body swayed forward, but he quickly blinked, shook his head and readjusted his footing.

“Are you… drunk?” I asked him quietly.

“Very,” he admitted freely.

Oh, Presley.

I offered him a flat smile and studied his face. There was no denying he was as gorgeous as ever, but there were differences I hadn’t noticed the other night. Presley’s eyes were glassy now, the edges tired even if his mind was wired. He looked calm, though. Was that because I was there? Or was it because the alcohol had made him as carefree as he wished to be? I wanted to ask him if alcohol was all he’d put in his body, but I wasn’t his mother, and this wasn’t the time. I was there with him on impulse, not knowing what the hell to say or where the hell to start. Only knowing that I wanted to lie down beside him and make more naked memories. I wanted to help him. If he was lost, I wanted to show him how I could be his home.

I guess I really was sorry for the deal I’d made with Dicky, after all.

Moving past him as carefully as I could, I looked around the room again, glancing around the corner that revealed a huge, open seated area that could house at least fifty people or more to party in.

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