And I noticed the more nervous, and not so confident, break to her voice, and it was like music to my ears.

My gazed firmed up as I challenged her. “I’ll put on Remedy—still your favorite song?—you give me a quick lap dance, and the party’s over.”

Would I really stop the party? No. There would be no situation where I would actually give her what she wanted.

And I would enjoy teaching her that fact. I really hoped, though, that she wouldn’t take me up on the offer. Don’t get me wrong. Having her body rubbing against mine wouldn’t suck, but I wouldn’t be able to just fuck her and leave. I walked a thin line with Tate, and I knew I’d want seconds.

She looked at me for a minute, several emotions crossing her sweetly cruel face. Consideration as she actually looked like she was thinking about it. Then anger when she realized she’d only end up being humiliated. Defeat when she accepted that there really was no win here for her. And loss when sadness crossed her glassy eyes. Not sure what that was about. And then something different.

Her brow relaxed, and she tipped her chin down, looking up at me.

Shit.

I knew that look. I wear it all the time. Defiance.

She twisted around, her hair flying over her shoulder, and my heart skipped a beat as she began shouting throughout my house at the top of her lungs.

“Cops!” she screamed into the living room. “Cops! Everyone get out of here! Cops coming in the backdoor! Run!”

Motherfucker!

I watched, helplessly, as all of the drunk and high idiots hanging out at my house dashed to make their escape.

What the hell? They actually believed her!

Heat flared up my neck, and I folded my arms over my chest to keep my heart from jumping out of my body.

People scattered out of the house, fleeing out of the kitchen and living room and through the front door like there was a fucking fire. Most of them were underage, so they had reason to be on alert, but still? You’d think the stupid shits would at least look around first.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 718