Page 163 of Midnight Curfew

I stuff the shit into Macon’s hand. “Take him,” I tell them.

Hauling Micah Hearst off the ground, Macon throws him over his shoulder, and it finally occurs to me that he didn’t yell at me when he got here. I mean, he’s mad that we brought Liv, but he didn’t try to stop me.

He’s calmed down a lot with Krisjen around. He should still be mad. What we’re doing is stupid, but I’m going to do it anyway.

They leave, my brothers carrying the men’s turtleneck sweater model. One of them will take his car to Fox Hill, the other following in the truck.

When he wakes up, his head will be pounding and he won’t be in the mood for sex.

Liv shoves Callum off of her and climbs to her feet.

Moving to him, I press my boot onto his chest, keeping him on the ground.

My sister stands at my side. “I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell her.

I don’t know if she’s satisfied. She wanted him dragged from the boat—not his boyfriend—but his night is ruined nonetheless. Still not even close to a sufficient payback after what he did to her, but I’m not looking to make him bleed tonight. Getting us arrested will only help him in his pursuit of the Bay.

She leaves to wait for me at my car, and to my surprise, Callum makes no move to rise.

The room quiets, the only sound the water kicking up against the boat.

Callum locks his hands behind his head as if he’s having fun. “Smells good, doesn’t he?”

The male model?

“He’s strong,” Callum coos. “He smiles, he tells me what he’s thinking, he can stand it when I want to look at him…”

And I can’t?

I pull off my shirt and stare down at him as I unfasten my belt, open my pants, and pull myself out.

His gaze lowers, and that fucking smile falls as his eyes linger on me and drift up my torso.

I can stand it when people look at me. Even when I’m not hard, I look good.

I just don’t care if he wants to.

But the seconds tick by, the silence between us fills the room, and he’s still taking me in, as if trying to memorize every muscle, every vein. All I’m aware of are his eyes on me.

I can stand it when people look at me.

I just don’t like it.

Callum meets my gaze again. “If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?”

I narrow my eyes, but before I can figure out why he’s asking that, I know where I’d be.

Nowhere else but here.

With him on his back and me looking down.

Warm blood courses from my upper body down toward my legs, almost making my stomach feel like it’s floating, and I tuck myself back away before I start to get hard. “You don’t get to have fun while you torture the Bay,” I grit out. “Call off the curfew. Or not, for all I care.”

I can do this every day.

I button and zip up my pants and fasten my belt. Squatting down next to him, I wrap my hand around his throat. “If any man fucks you or sucks you, I’ll beat him senseless.”

He doesn’t falter, even as I start squeezing his esophagus.