Page 45 of Kings & Corruption

He looked good enough to eat, the cut planes of his chest obvious through the thin fabric of the T-shirt, his shaggy blond hair falling across his face until he gave a sexy a toss of his head.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“I’m guessing you’ve gotten a handle on the crowd.” He handed me a beer. “Don’t take one of these from anyone but us.”

Duh.

“The Saints are over there,” I said, looking at the cartel kids, before letting my eyes slide to Alexa and the Knights. “Russians over there.”

“Keep going,” he encouraged.

I looked at the group next to the Russians, but my work was done for me when I spotted Claire, Quinn, and Erin. “Castle house, obviously.”

I knew Claire’s dad was big in the Irish mafia.

“That one’s easy,” Rock said, swigging on his beer.

I looked up at him. “Because of Claire?”

“And all the gingers.”

I laughed. They weren’t all redheads, but they had more than their share, in keeping with their Irish heritage. “Fair.”

“That leaves the Queens, but it looks like they’ve been assimilated into the frats, for the party at least. What a surprise,” I said dryly.

He draped an arm across my shoulders. “Aw, is our kitten a feminist?”

I shrugged off his arm. “Well, yeah. Aren’t you?”

He looked offended. “Babe.. seriously? OfcourseI’m a feminist. I want you in my bed of your own free will, begging for my dick and telling me exactly what you want. Because I’m sex positive and shit.”

I laughed. Fuck me. Why were these guys making it so impossible to keep my distance? And why were my panties wet?

Again.

"So the girls congregate with the men in their families,” I said. “Do the frats mix with each other at all? Because this is lame.”

“Give it time,” Rock said. “And a lot more alcohol. Everyone will be mixing like a dirty cocktail in about an hour.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m going to check on a couple of things,” Rock said. “Stay where we can see you.”

“I’m not a baby,” I said.

“Just looking out for you.” He kissed me on the mouth before I could protest, then swaggered over to where Neo and Oscar were talking intently about something.

It said a lot about my life that in the last forty-eight hours I’d gone from despising the three guys I was living with to letting two of them fight over me and kiss me on the mouth. It seemed the only one I’d been right about — at least in the asshole department — was Neo.

I flashed to the designer dresses piled in the hallway before the ball and pushed the image aside. He’d probably wanted to make sure I didn’t embarrass the Kings’ house by showing up in something lame.

I took a drink of my beer and looked around. Everyone was with someone — friends, boyfriends or girlfriends, housemates.

I was alone, like I’d been ever since Emma disappeared. Even when we weren’t close, I’d known she was there. I’d known that when push came to shove, she had my back.

Now I felt like I was walking a tightrope with no safety net.

It was only a matter of time before I fell.

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