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The name-brand clothes, opulent surroundings, and parents who can bail them out of trouble is really the only difference between these snobby assholes and the kind of people I grew up around.
Of course, no matter how drunk they are, no one forgets that they hate me. Max and I get vicious stares from a group of girls we pass as we walk in like we own the place, but I don’t even spare them a second glance.
There’s only one person I’m there for, and that’s Gray Eastwood himself.
We slip into the massive kitchen to get drinks, and I’ll admit that’s one glaring difference between the house parties I went to in high school and a Hawthorne party. The booze is a lot better quality here.
I don’t want to get wasted—hell, we’re not even planning on staying that long—but I need a little liquid courage for what’s gonna come next.
“You ready?” Max asks, leaning toward me to speak over the music.
I nod, taking a drink of my whiskey and letting it burn down my throat. “If we can fucking find him in this place.”
The house is massive. Instead of having one main living room, it seems to have several, and we pass through the network of open rooms filled with luxurious furniture. Students from Hawthorne are everywhere, some talking and laughing loudly, some dancing, others sprawled on the couches making out and—yeah, I think at least one guy is definitely getting a hand job.
We find Gray in a large room near the back of the house, settled on a couch with Declan and Elias as if they’re fucking kings ruling over their domain.
There are several beefy guys standing with drinks in hand nearby. I think they’re all on the football team with Gray. Caitlin and her crew are perched on another couch talking to Cliff, the redhead who introduced himself to me the day Gray stole my student ID card.
As if she’s got some kind of “Sophie Radar,” Caitlin looks up the second we walk into the room, and I revel in the anger that makes her cheeks flush red when she sees me. I’m sure she knows Max and I weren’t invited, and I hope she knows I don’t fucking care.
Max gives my elbow a squeeze, and even though I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be a gesture of encouragement, I can feel how nervous she is in the way her fingers dig into my skin.
Now that I’m here, I can admit I’m a little nervous too. There are a hell of a lot of ways this could backfire. But I’m sick and fucking tired of the Sinners holding power over me, and there’s only one way I can think of to get it back.
So I give Max one more look before stepping away from her and striding into the middle of the room. The music is blaring just as loud in here as it is everywhere else in the house, and most people aren’t paying attention to me—at least, not yet.
Caitlin’s still glaring at me, and I know Gray, Declan, and Elias noticed me the second I walked in too. So I’m positive none of them miss my first move.
Reaching down, I grab the hem of my tank with both hands and pull it smoothly over my head, dropping it on the floor beside me. The lacy black fabric of my bra clings to my breasts, and a few heads swivel in my direction, drawn by the movement. Like a cascading effect, more and more heads turn as conversations die out and people nudge their friends.
Well, here goes fucking nothing.
My heart slams harder in my chest as I reach for the zipper and clasp of my skirt, grateful for the drink I took earlier that keeps my hands from shaking.
The zipper slides down, and the skirt slides off, pooling at my feet.
Beside Caitlin, Cliff is staring at me with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open slightly. Caitlin and her crew look torn between being scandalized and pissed, but I barely register their glares.
My eyes are on only one person now.
Gray.
He sits up a little straighter on the couch where he’s been lounging like a king, a muscle in his cheek flickering as he clenches his jaw. His expression is unreadable, but every line of his body has gone rigid.
A wave of heat washes through me. I’ve fucked this man twice, but he’s never seen me completely naked. Not in person, anyway. And I feel his gaze on me now like a flame licking over my skin.
Deliberately, I reach behind me and unclasp my bra, drawing it slowly down my arms before dropping it alongside my tank top.
My breasts aren’t huge, but they’re high and full, and my whole body is on such high alert that my nipples peak instantly as dozens of gazes land on me.
Gray shifts on the couch, his fingers curling like his hands are itching to clench into fists. His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t move as I reach down and push my panties over the swell of my hips, then kick them off along with my skirt.
I’m completely naked now, wearing nothing but the heels I walked in on.
I draw in a deep breath, intensely conscious of the way it makes my chest rise and fall, and the ripple that seems to move through the gathered crowd in reaction. Then I step forward, letting my hips sway from side to side as I cross toward the couch Gray, Declan, and Elias have claimed.
When I’m less than two feet from them, close enough that they could just about reach out and touch me if they wanted to, I stop. Carefully, I toe off first one shoe, then the next until I’m standing barefoot in front of them.
