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Maybe Slate was right after all. I needed to find someone who could service me, or just plain straight out fuck me into happiness.
Is that even a thing? I needed to make that a thing because Roman was a complete dud and now when in reflection, he had no idea how to pleasure a woman and had no desire to see me fulfilled. What he didn’t know was, I’d mastered my own pleasure to make up for what he lacked. That’s what had gotten me through all these years.
“... and I’m sure your brothers would be stoked to know—”
“I’m... I’m going,” I said, breaking free and interrupting Jarod from his speech while feeling all hot and bothered. He tried to reach for my hand again, but I pulled away. “I’m going to go and get a drink and some fresh air, I’m feeling a little claustrophobic.”
“Just stay for a little while longer so we can talk,” he said, still determined to get his way with smooth talking.
It wasn’t working.
I wasn’t a pushover no matter how horny I was.
I leaned down, so we were face to face, excitement glimmering from his eyes.
“You do know I know who you are, right, Jarod? I know all about your sexcapades and how you trash talk all the women you bed. If you even think there could have ever been anything between us, then you’re sorely mistaken. People talk, and I’m a great listener.”
The sparkle in his eyes quickly diminished when he realized his game was up.
“So why did Brock not say anything earlier if I’m so bad?”
“Because he knows I can handle myself.”
And with that, I turned on my heel and headed out the door, leaving a stunned and somewhat butt-hurt Jarod to lick his wounds.
Taking to the stairs, I hoped I didn’t see Hawk kissing the fiery redhead again. She was exactly his type though, model material with massive boobs and an overly flirtatious nature. I didn’t excel at flirting, and if they offered lessons in it, I would probably attend.
It could quite possibly be why I was still single.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to come get you.” Brock’s voice stopped me as I reached the bottom of the stairs. I turned to my brother—tall, dark and handsome, dressed in Italian clothes, he was certainly eye-catching.
“I can look after myself,” I replied, leaning against the railing and looking down at the party guests. “I know better than to get mixed up with Jarod.”
He joined my side. “Hawk didn’t seem to think so.”
“Oh, my goodness! What would he know?” I folded my hands over my chest and Brock raised his in defense. “He comes with his own warning.”
“That’s because you don’t know him like we do, Brit.”
“That’s not true, I know him just as well.”
“Hawk’s a great guy, I’m not gonna deny that. But he’s intense.”
“I think you forget I work for him. I know exactly how hard Hawk can be.”
Brock grimaced. “I’m gonna forget I heard that.”
“Jesus, Brock! You know exactly what I mean.”
“Anyway...” he says, eager to change the conversation, “... the rat pack is here. They just called.”
He was referring to my two other brothers. Slate being the youngest, Brock the oldest, then the other two. Both were close to Hawk, and the moment we start walking down the stairs I heard their calls and cheers. The rat pack converged in the middle of the room where Slate met them. Hawk arrived just as I did, his eyes giving me the once-over. I felt a delightful and bone-chilling thrill. He exhilarated and terrified me all at once. The boys now all together grew loud and huddled like they were teenagers again trying to come up with a game plan.
They’re drunk.
Well, maybe not Hawk.
He seldom got drunk, and I figured it was because he never wanted to relinquish control. I always wondered how he could handle all four of my brothers when they were like this, seeing as he was basically sober. Did he ever get sick of their shit or was he humored by their stupidity?
Ricky spied me over Slate’s shoulder and pulled away from the pack, but not before I’d already turned away myself. Unlike them, I wasn’t loud and boisterous. Unfortunately, I didn’t get away quick enough.
“And there she goes,” I heard Brock joking, knowing exactly why I was leaving.
“Britta!” Ricky yelled above the music.
“Britta, wait,” Harry, the third eldest shouted, this time as the song faded to an end.
Everyone who’d been lost in conversation turned to face me, curious over the spectacle. I stopped dead, not knowing where to go next.
“Jesus Chr—”
“Where are you going?” Ricky asked, my cheeks turning beet red at the unwanted attention.
“For some fresh air.” I smiled weakly.
Ricky’s hands wrapped around my waist and he lifted me up into a bear hug. “I’ve missed you, Britta. How come you’ve avoided us for so long?” He placed me down and patted the top of my head like I was a child. I wanted to kick him in the shins.
