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My eyes dart to Clove again and I smirk. Seb’s never looked at Rachel the way he looks at Clove. This shit is going to be interesting.
I climb out and look past Rachel at Seb’s stately home in the middle of a clearing. Thick trees surround the perimeter. It’s been ages since we’ve last visited.
“Hey, Zac,” Rachel greets, demanding my attention. “It’s been years, sugar. How’ve you been?”
I give her a nod of my head in greeting. “Busy.”
“Still such a talker, I see,” she deadpans.
“It’s late,” Sebastian grunts when he walks over to us. “Thanks for stocking the pantry and fridge for me.”
“You pay me to do it,” she says breathily. “I could hang around and help get you boys settled.” Her flirty smile falls when her eyes dart behind us. The car door slams and based on the way Rachel’s lip curls up and her nostrils flare, I would guess she’s noticed our new addition. “And who’s this?” Rachel asks, sweet and fake as fuck.
Clove prances forward between Seb and me, offering her hand to Rachel. “Clove Sterling. These are my guys…”
Rachel’s brow hikes. “Your guys?”
“They’re my security detail,” Clove amends, shame in her voice.
I glance at Seb to find him frowning. Ford breaks up the tense moment when he saunters over to us.
“Don’t know about you all, but I’m fucking tired. Chit chat all you want while I find the nearest bed.” He smirks at me when he takes Clove’s hand. “Come on, Lucky. Let’s get you tucked in.”
They walk into the barely used home with Leo trailing behind. I’m left with clingy Rachel, who’s melted away some of her anger to give Sebastian one of her signature desperate smiles.
“If it’s too full, you could always crash at my trailer,” she purrs, running her palm down his chest.
He grips her wrist, stopping her from reaching his belt. “Not happening, Rach.”
“Fine. Rest up. You’ll need it because tomorrow I’m taking you guys out,” she chirps. “It’ll be fun. We can get wasted like old times…” She flashes me a wicked smile. “And then see where things go after that.”
“Maybe,” I supply, knowing full well I’m not tapping that ass ever again.
She purses her lips and lingers. Then, she reaches out to grab Seb’s bicep. “Joey’s been doing the hard drugs again. He and Casey broke up. He’s…” She looks down at the grass. “He’s been coming over high trying to get in.”
I watch Seb to see if he falls for her tactics.
His jaw clenches and he looks over at his house, indecision warring in his eyes. With a heavy sigh, I offer to do the job I know he clearly doesn’t want.
“I’ll ride with her in her golf cart back to the trailer and check things out. Make sure she gets there safely. How about you get a shower, man? You fucking stink,” I grumble, irritated that I have to babysit this bimbo.
Relief flickers in his eyes. “Thanks, man.”
And then he’s gone.
I’m left alone with Rachel fucking Raddle.
“Let’s go,” I grumble. “I’m tired as hell.”
She stomps off toward the golf cart, shaking her ass like it has the power to draw me in. The only ass I crave is the one I’m being denied at the moment. Clove’s perfect little ass. When Rachel sits in the driver’s seat, I let out a sharp whistle and shake my head. She grumbles and scoots over. I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine. Rachel pouts as we drive the ten minutes or so through a path in the woods to her trailer. Her dogs start barking from behind her fence when they see us pull up. I shut the golf cart off and do a perimeter check. Once I deem it safe, I walk inside and make sure the doors and windows are locked. Before I can exit, she blocks my way.
“You know,” she purrs, “his house is full. You could stay here with me. My bed is warm.” She grips my dick through my jeans. “You still have a thing for having your dick sucked?”
As much as I do want my dick sucked, it just isn’t by her.
I pat her head. “Go to bed, Rachel.”
And then I leave her to growl pissed off words under her breath.
Not tonight. Hell, not ever again.
Sebastian’s house is nice. It’s too large for just him. Who was that woman? Three bedrooms, two bathrooms. You can tell a man decorated it. Not a woman. The furniture is masculine and functional. There aren’t any personal photos or anything that suggests he owns this house. Or has a mysterious woman he’s never mentioned before.
“Kitchen. Living room. Laundry room is that way,” Ford says, pointing out rooms as he drags me along. “Guest rooms here and there. We’ll take the master.”
I follow him into the master bedroom. A large bed sits in the middle of the room across from a large, picturesque window. Has she slept there with Seb—with any of my guys? I walk over to the window and stare out into the dark trees.
