Dropping her head to my shoulder again, she sighs. “When I woke up this morning all I could think about was how I’d betrayed Nate. In the darkness and passion of the night, that didn’t matter, but it sure as hell did this morning.”
Well, this explains why she was nowhere to be found when I woke up. It also explains the avoidance and hiding out until I hunted her down. I feel like a fucking schmuck, which is probably how I should have been feeling this entire time. Jordan is right. It didn’t matter last night, but it should have this morning because she’s not the only one that betrayed Nate, though I always thought I was the only one that got the warning from him. I’ve always had a reputation. I had no idea anything had happened to make him tell me to stay away.
Then again, I never asked.
So not only have I betrayed my best friend, I made his baby sister do the same.
And in three days I’m supposed to stand up for him at his wedding.
Fuck.
“Liam, stop,” she whispers, reaching out to grab my hand as her body turns towards me, lifting one leg up onto the edge of the pool. My arm falls away from her and she takes that hand too. “I can already see you spinning out. Maybe I should regret last night, but I don’t. I hate that I broke my promise, but I don’t hate that I spent the night with you.”
Peering at me, her hands squeeze mine in reassurance, offering me a soft, tender smile. “No one has ever made me feel so safe in the bedroom.”
Unable to stop it, a laugh bubbles out of my lips as I look at her thighs where bruises abound. “Safe? Look at you.”
“Those are there because I allowed them to be,” she says,continuing when I shake my head, not understanding. “Do you know that I’ve never been with a man where I’ve said wait, and have had him actually listen? Who has actually taken the time to stop what he’s doing, let alone back off, and then ask me what I want?”
The frown already on my face deepens, my lip turning up in a snarl. “What?” I ask, the mere thought of someone not listening to Jordan say “stop” making my blood burn deep in my veins, screaming in a way that makes me want to pummel anyone who has ever done that to her. “That’s fucked up. A woman says no, stop, wait, or gives any indication she isn’t okay then you stop.”
“That’s the life a lot of women have to live with.”
Wrapping my arms around her without another thought, I pull her as close to me as I can, given our awkward angle, and squeeze the shit out of her. If anyone ever asked, I’d swear it was for her benefit, but I think I actually do it for mine. I hate that she’s gone through these things. That she has to deal with them. That other women have to deal with it as well. We live in a fucked up world.
“I’d burn every one of those motherfuckers to the ground for you,” I say in her ear.
I can feel her smile against the skin of my pec. “I know. I know you’ll always keep me safe.”
“Damn right.”
I just hope that Nate is enough to keep her safe from me.
Chapter 7
Jordan
“Oh,god,yes!Giveit to me, baby!” Quinn exclaims as a shirtless male server straddles her lap, his body moving in a wave to the music.
We’ve already been to two male revue shows, one in which Savanna shamelessly got up on stage with one of the strippers and got the dance of a lifetime. It was hot as hell, and I have zero doubt my brother is going to consider himself very lucky when we all get back to the hotel tonight. We relentlessly teased her in the limo ride to our current location, wondering who she’d envision the next time she had sex with him. The stripper or Nate.
We’re at a “secret” bar on the strip. Apparently Vegas is riddled with them—something we found out at the last show, thanks to Quinn chatting up one of the guys during the meet and greet. He suggested we keep the party going here, and that we wouldn’t be disappointed if we came, so he told us how to get here, and what to say at the secret door to get us in.
The guy was right. This place is amazing.
It’s a ladies only club, though we had to go through a piano bar filled with men and women to get here. The only men allowed are the half-naked servers treating all the women like Queens. It’s like an extension of the strippers, and so far none of us are dissatisfied. It’s a breath of fresh air to go out on a dance floor glittering with fairy lights above and not have a million guys trying to get intomy pants. To be able to just dance with my girls to all the hottest songs. Have some drinks and party it up without worrying about any guy staring or drooling. It’s worth every penny we’re going to spend here at the bar illuminated by neon lights.
Currently, the six pack of abs that is hovering over Quinn has her by the hair so she’s staring straight up at him, pink lights twinkling down on his rock hard stomach and her exuberant face, lighting them both up. Her hands are all over the guy as he steps a few inches closer to her body, forcing her chin to rest on his abdomen. We’re all hooting and hollering as he takes the bottle in his hand and starts pouring it into her mouth. I’m damn near certain he’s waiting until she sputters some of it out to stop, but the girl just keeps drinking it back.
Finally he stops, pushing her face into his stomach for a little action that Quinn eats up with a shout of excitement, and a lick that follows the indents in his abs. Knowing Quinn, her violet eyes—courtesy of the contacts she always wears—are dark and full of invitation for the man.
Grinning from ear to ear, the guy steps back and holds up the bottle to the rest of us. “Who’s next?!”
“Do Jordan!”
“Jordan’s next!”
“Her!”
