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“You hear that?” Sam said. “He’s got ladies, and we’ve got nothing.”
“I’ve got a fiancé, and you’ve got a lesbian,” Declan retorted. Excuse him, what?
“Hold up.” I threw my hands in the air. “You’ve got a what?”
“Sam’s in love with a lesbian,” Nolan replied very matter-of-factly.
“Sam,” I started, glancing at him. “Come on, bud. There wasn’t anyone else out there,”
Before he could answer the fucking question, a red sports car came flying into the parking lot. It completely misjudged the dip, and we cringed as the bumper scraped hard on the concrete.
“Oh, that isn’t good,” Sam commented.
“That poor car,” I agreed as we watched it come to an abrupt halt in a parking spot. “It’s a pretty fucking car, though.”
It really was. The car was easily worth a fucking fortune. Too bad the owner didn’t take care of their goddamn shit. I could only imagine the wear and tear on that beauty.
And then the driver-side door flew open. Raven stumbled out in a fit of laughter, gripping the door for support. Isla was out just as quickly and just as loud. The two women went back and forth, chatting at a speed none of us could hope to understand.
“Oh! Hey, baby!” Raven exclaimed with a wide smile when she saw Declan. “Look what I got!”
“Please, don’t tell me you bought a car,” Declan replied.
“What? No!” She waved him off and came around the side of the car, doing a little twirl. “What do you think?”
“Oh, fuck me.” A deep growl vibrated off him as she did. Me? I fucking bit my tongue, which was better than the laughter my fucking brothers howled with. The woman was in the tiniest flannel skirt possible. She was all long legs, strappy heels, and a black shirt that may have hidden her arms but showed off her stomach. “Fuck, I’m punching someone tonight. I just know it.”
Any sense of self-control I had snapped, and I turned away to keep from laughing at him. Poor fucking man. If there was ever a night that man would punch someone, the night his fiancé walked into a busy bar looking like that was definitely it. Hell, any of us would.
“Oh, he loves the skirt, mo charaid!” Isla threw her arms around Raven’s shoulders. Shit, she wasn’t any fucking better in her itty bitty green slip of a dress. And from the way Nolan’s teeth damn near cracked as he clenched his jaw, I wasn’t the only one who noticed—a fact I stored away to ask him about later.
A second sports car in blue drove in—thankfully easing its way into the parking lot rather than wrecking its bumper. Raven smacked the hood as it rolled into the spot next to them.
“God, what took you so long?” she demanded.
“Not everyone drives like a bat out of hell, you crazy woman!” Cade snapped as he stepped out. “Good Lord. Have fun with that tonight, Dec. She’s in full chaos mode.”
“You hear that, Dec?” Finn goaded. “Full-on chaos mode. Get the flying fists ready.”
“God, I want him to punch someone,” Lucas exclaimed, giddy like a kid at Christmas. The kid had a twisted dream of the Byrne boys in a bar fight. Why? I didn’t have a fucking clue. I wasn’t sure Lucas had ever fought anyone besides our backyard brawls growing up.
“I’m going to start with you,” Declan snarled.
“You poor fuck,” I commented under my breath. I watched as Cade slid across the hood of the car—a travesty because the car deserved better than that shit. As he reached for the passenger door, he caught me staring and fucking winked. What the fuck? There was something about the guy that pissed me off.
But any chance I had at pondering that thought was fucking lost as he opened the door and helped Genevieve out of the car. My heart ratcheted in my chest as I drank in the sight of her.
Jesus fucking Christ, I was fucked.
It wasn’t how those tight pants hugged every gorgeous fucking curve as they hung low on her hips or the way her high-heeled boots made her ass fucking pop. It wasn’t the skimpy and backless top in copper orange satin or the way her going braless showed off the nipple piercings I didn’t know about. It wasn’t the gold bracelets and armbands accenting her tawny skin or the cascade of diamonds dangling from a belly button piercing. It wasn’t her perfect curls or the glittery makeup on her gorgeous face.
No, it was the fucking necklace she dared to wear.
That goddamn necklace.
But it wasn’t a necklace. No, it was a collar—my fucking collar. It was one of the ones I’d had made for her special, so she could wear it whenever she wanted without anyone knowing our secret. How many times had I slipped my fingers through the loops and tightened that delicate chain around her neck how she liked? Enjoyed the way her eyes rolled back and her pussy grew wet as I cut off her airway?
A possessive growl vibrated through my chest uncontrollably.
