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“What’s not a bad idea?” Rudd asks, handing Davis a bottle of Bud.
I gesture for the bartender, who gives a chin nod of acknowledgement but does not hustle over. I stick my hands into my pockets and sigh. One release is not enough. I want to go back to the bathroom, bend Landry over the sink, and take her again.
“Adam had a honey in the bathroom, but he was too embarrassed to introduce me to her,” Davis says.
Rudd pats me on the back. “Doesn’t matter what she looks like. No judgment here.”
The bartender comes over and saves me, although I’m sure that Landry would prefer everyone thought I fucked a dog in the bathroom rather than her. “I’
ll have a Macallan, and make it a double.”
The scruffy-chinned guy wrinkles his forehead. “Don’t know what that is, brother.”
“Of course not,” I sigh. “Whiskey. Best you got. Fill it to the top.”
“Must not have been very good sex if you gotta drink to forget it seconds after finishing,” Rudd tsks.
“It sounded like he was enjoying himself,” Davis says. “Thought the walls of the stall were going to fall down.”
To Davis’s chagrin, Rudd doesn’t give a shit I was late. He’s much more interested in hazing me. “Maybe she didn’t finish and he’s trying to drown his embarrassment in the bottom of a glass.” Rudd pats me on the back again. “Don’t worry, old man. Happens to the best of us.”
“Not to me,” Davis says.
“Not me, either,” Ian chirps.
“Now you decide to chime in?” The fucking traitor has been watching me squirm like a pinned bug.
“Hey, I’m throwing you a life jacket. Don’t shit all over it.”
“If I was in the ocean, how would I shit on the life jacket?”
“Agreed. I think you’d be more likely to piss on it,” Davis says.
“Why aren’t we just using it to save ourselves?” Rudd asks in complete puzzlement.
Ian and Davis break down, folding themselves in half while Rudd keeps asking “What? What did I say?”
At least the attention’s off me and Davis is no longer shooting darts my way, but I can’t stop wishing I was still balls-deep inside Landry’s sweet pussy. As Davis laughs gleefully, I plot ways to dispose of his body—temporarily.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Adam
“Would you stop looking at me like that?” I grumble under my breath. I’m a sweaty mess from finishing the second half of our set. I need a shower, a beer, and Landry underneath me—not necessarily in that order.
“Like what?” She bats her eyelashes at me.
“Like you want me to fuck you.”
“Is that what my expression says?” She holds out her phone. “Take a picture. I’m curious what that looks like.”
I whip the phone out of her hand and toss it on the table. “I’m serious. My dick is so hard that it’s got the rail marks of my zipper on it.”
A saucy smile spreads across her face. “We can’t have that. I like my property well taken care of.”
I shoot out of my chair.
“Where you going?” Davis says, arriving from the bar three bottles of beer in his hand.
