Page 96 of That Girl is Trouble

“You don’t remember?” the woman asks, pulling my face back in her direction. She drags her sharp nails over my jaw, a pouty look on her face. “You didn’t call,” she says.

“Yeah. I don’t do that,” I tell her, lowering my attention to her chest, because maybe that will jog my memory.

She wiggles her ass closer to my dick, and I steady my hand on her hip to stop her.

A sultry smile curls up her face, and she leans closer. “You had fun.”

“Did I?” I seriously can’t fucking remember. All these chicks tend to blend together.

Maybe I did have fun. Maybe I should have fun again. Since the Slam, I’ve had one fucking chick on my mind. Haven’t been able to dip my dick anywhere else. It’s fucking irritating. I’ve been on edge, and I need to blow off some steam, fuck something other than my hand. But when I close my eyes and think about wrapping a woman’s hair around my fist, it’s not blond hair I picture. It’s not this chick. It’s not big tits and pink lips.

I snap my fingers. Pink lips. “Ashley.”

The woman left that pink lipstick of hers all over my dick, and I woke up the next morning looking like I’d fucked a strawberry sundae.

She grins. “That’s right. We could have fun again, you know. Just tell me what you want.”

I cock an eyebrow. “I want you to get off my lap.”

“I think that’s the opposite of what you want. I think you want my mouth all over your co—”

What feels like a bucket of water lands in my lap, and Ashley jumps up with a shriek. Cold liquid soaks into my jeans, and the scent of beer permeates the air. I freeze, blinking at my soaked lap, and then I look at Ashley, whose face, hair, and chest are all covered in beer.

The people around us go silent as I catch sight of Kat holding an empty pitcher. Her eyes are wide, and there’s a look of shock on her face as she gapes at me, then at Ashley, then at the mess she made all over us and the table.

But there’s the smallest smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, and when our eyes meet, a slow realization hits me. Kat just fucking dumped a pitcher of beer on my lap. And she did it on purpose.

26

15 months ago

August

I stand, and beer floods down my legs. The triumphant look on Kat’s face slips away when she notes my anger, but it’s not me who starts yelling first.

“You dumb fucking bitch!” Ashley shouts.

Kat takes a step back, a look of shock lined perfectly on her face.

“Sorry,” she says, far too casually. “It was an accident. I tripped and—”

Ashley lunges, and she’s about a second away from scratching those sharp nails across Kat’s cheek when I grab her at the waist and rip her away.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” she screams, her arms flailing as she tries to catch Kat by the hair.

If I could stand to see Kat hurt, knocked down a peg, put in her place by someone other than me, then I’d let this crazy bitch go right now and let them have at it. While everyone else might be fooled by the innocent little frown painted on her face, I know better. Kat’s getting off on watching me pull this bitch back. A test maybe. To gauge whether I’m still willing to go to bat for her, protect her from getting her ass handed to her even though I know she’s full of shit. Me being half-covered in cheap beer was anything but an accident.

“Fucking relax,” I snap as I toss Ashley towards Tex, who’s pushed his way into the middle of the chaos.

He catches her and smiles, his eyes glinting with excitement. “God, please fucking let them fight. My money’s on Kitty, but I’d bet this one would get in some good hits with those claws.”

“No one’s getting in any hits tonight,” I say, eyes locked on Ashley, who’s shooting daggers in Kat’s direction. “Hey,” I bark as I grab her face, forcing her eyes to mine. “Hear what I said? No fucking fighting. You don’t touch her. Tell me you understand.”

With a swallow, she drags her attention to Kat one more time, then nods.

A flash of irritation heats the back of my neck, and I sigh. “Out loud.”

“Y-yes,” she stammers.

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