If he went after her, or if any of them touched her, they’d regret it.
Travis didn’t immediately respond, so he at least had two brain cells left to rub together. While I waited to see what came from that, I flicked my gaze to the makeshift dance floor.
I spotted her in the sea of drunk, horny seniors.
Fucking hell.
Sweat coated her skin. Neon party lights streaked over her low neckline and bare arms, illuminating each glistening bead as she weaved her hands above her head. She moved like smoke from a snake charmer’s pipe, writhing to the music and rolling her hips.
Her skirt flared out, flashing toned thighs and a hint of lace, and I stifled a groan.
My dick twitched against my fly, not so easily restrained.
Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t control my body’s response to her. It seemed perfectly aware that Addie was more than my best friend’s twin sister.
Far too aware in recent months.
A quick reminder of the stakes usually settled any inopportune reactions I had to her scent, the brush of her hair against my arm, or the softness of her skin as it touched mine. Passing moments of unexpected appreciation for her, I survived.
But tonight?
Instead of retreating, my dick strained against my zipper. It reached for her as she danced, ready to join her in a tangled mess of rolling hips and sweaty limbs gliding against each other.
What the hell?
I tore my eyes away, snatching my barely touched beer bottle off the counter beside me. The lukewarm swig trickled down my dry throat, doing nothing to sate my sudden thirst.
Irritation prickled my skin. Sanity and hormones battled for dominance inside my brain. And I clenched my hand around the neck of the bottle as Travis sidled up to me.
“Heard she letDweeblypop her cherry,” he taunted, voice low enough for my ears only. “I bet she needs a real man after that. Someone to show her what it’s really like. Don’t you?”
My fingers twitched, every nerve inside my body itching to punch him in the face. But that move was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. He’d go after her for sport if I didn’t keep my emotions in check.
“She’s my best friend’s sister, Travis.” I kept my voice level but pinned him with a firm stare. “Off limits, and you fucking know it.”
He smirked, then bared his teeth in a sleazy grin. “High school’s over, Blake. And a sweet girl like that? Over protected.Repressed…I bet a firm hand in the bedroom turns her into a fucking wildcat.”
I set my bottle down, dropping my fists on the counter beside it. Without a word, I underscored the line he seemed hell bent on crossing.
Travis laughed, backing away with his hands raised. “Alright. Alright. I see you’re still on the edge. Toeing the line before diving into the water, huh? Afraid to dip inside that pool.”
The prick practically begged to be punched.
“We both know that good girls like her all come back the same. By winter break, she’ll be lonely and nostalgic for a little home-grown loving. So eager to please, too.”
He swung his gaze in her direction, and then he bit his knuckles with a groan.
Mine cracked.
“We may have followed your rules during high school.For your best friend.” He snorted, shooting me a wink like we shared a private joke. “After fall semester, her ass is fair game. And I do mean that literally.”
I snarled.
His head snapped to the side as I slammed my fist into his face. The satisfying crunch of knuckles against cheekbone only fueled my need to hit him again.
Somehow staying upright, Travis crashed into the kitchen island, barely planting his hands in time to stop his face from smacking into the marble. Empty beer bottles scattered, and a collective gasp rang out in the small kitchen, drawing attention to us.
Hands splayed on the countertop, he shook off my hit and spat.
