Page 86 of Rebel Revenge

But the men didn’t hear my sulking. Fang led the way over to the bar, putting a pause on Kiki and Amber’s chatter while he introduced them to Vaughn.

I normally had a lot of time for Kiki. She was sweet as freaking sugar for a woman who had to have had a rough life to end up one of the club girls. But today my greeting fell on deaf ears. Her gaze wandered all over Vaughn, lingering on his face. Amber practically pushed her out of the way to take his offered hand.

Instead of shaking it, she drew him in close, pressing her tits against his chest and whispered something in his ear.

Vaughn’s cheeks went pink.

I flicked his arm, kinda hoping it hurt. “You’re blushing,”

Amber winked at me. “You’d be blushing too, if you’d heard what I said.” She grinned. “Love you, Rebs, but not like that.”

“He’s my brother, you know,” I grumbled at her.

“Stepbrother,” Vaughn corrected. “We’ve known each other for all of about a week.”

Kiki laughed but pulled me in for a hug that held on longer than it needed to so she could whisper in my ear, “If you don’t want us going there, just say the word, girl. Stepbrother or not, if you have dibs, we’ll back off.”

A very large part of me wanted to say the word.

A big, fat ‘don’t touch him’ word.

I didn’t have that right.

I kissed her cheek. “Go at it. He’s all yours.”

She squeezed my arms. “He’s so hot. I don’t know how you haven’t self-combusted just being near him.”

I kind of didn’t either.

Fang put an arm around my shoulders and a drink in my hand. “Come on. Let’s go sit on the couches. Leave this lot to do their thing.”

I sat on one of the old brown leather couches arranged in a haphazard circle that encouraged conversation.

And exhibition.

To my left, Aloha had Queenie on his lap, a handful of her plump ass in one hand, a beer in the other. She had her legs straddled across him, knees digging into the couch cushions while he kissed her deeply. She ground over his lap, dry humping him without a care that everyone else was there drinking, talking shit, or watching.

That was about as tame as these parties got.

It was something I’d always liked about them. Anything went, and it was always without judgment or shame. On this very couch, Fang had once put me over his lap, lifted my skirt, and torn off my thong so he could spank me.

I went hot at the memory.

Fang leaned in, lips to my ear. “You’re blushing. You thinking about that night I made your pretty little behind pink?”

“No,” I said, too quickly to sound believable.

Fang chuckled. “Mmm-hmm. It matched the color of your pussy.”

Despite my protests, my nipples went hard.

I distracted myself by glancing over at Vaughn and the two women. Kiki had her arms draped around his neck but noticed me watching them.

To my horror, Fang waved them over.

“What are you doing?” I hissed at him.

“Getting to know him. You’re living with him, Pix. I can’t be there twenty-four seven. Kian gives me good vibes. I don’t know about this one yet.”

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