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The guys didn’t talk about girls. It was kind of nice. When I hung out with Geezer, Grayley, and whoever else chose to show up, they always talked about girls. They treated me as one of the guys half the time. Notice how I said half the time.
These guys watched the game, drank, and laughed about who got into what fight at Carter’s party.
It was a nice…break.
I didn’t partake in the conversation. For one, I didn’t watch the Spurs enough to have any form of opinion. And two, I was content to curl up quietly beside Tray. When Tray didn’t press me, the rest followed suit. Listening to their conversation, I could hear how Tray was the leader. Of course, I’d always known that. But…there was this steel respect each of them had for him.
Sometimes Tray didn’t even speak up in the conversation, but the other guys were constantly asking what he thought about so and so. What he’d do, etc. If someone ventured onto a conversation Tray didn’t want covered, he’d look over and the topic would instantly be dropped.
It was nice. Brian would’ve growled, cursed, threatened and finally the topic would’ve been changed. Hell, som
etimes he would’ve just hauled off and thrown the person into the wall or off their chair.
Tray respected the guys back.
Another hour later I finally realized what I was hearing. It wasn’t just respect. But loyalty.
These guys were loyal to each other. To Tray, first and foremost.
Brian hadn’t been stable enough to even demand loyalty. Well, he’d demanded it, but he’d forced it. It hadn’t been given out of free will.
Tray did that. He got loyalty because it was freely given away. He was loyal back.
Brian was anything, but loyal.
I must’ve dozed off or stopped listening because I blinked, startled when Tray spoke up, “It’s Mandy, Taryn.”
Looking up, I saw Tray regarding me, waiting for my decision. The rest of the guys were watching too, with questions in their eyes as they saw Tray holding my phone.
“Uh—”
I saw Carter and Devon glance at each other, but neither spoke.
Then again, apparently it was the rule for these guys. No talk about girls—too much drama. I don’t know if that was really the case, but I could see it being the reason.
I shook my head and stood up, wandering upstairs and into the pool-house. I curled up in Tray’s bed and closed my eyes, falling asleep within seconds.
I woke up sometime later when I felt Tray slip in beside me and wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.
I didn’t say anything, but he knew I was awake. I felt his hand rub against my stomach, slowly, and I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth spread at his touch. Falling to my back, I felt his hand wander down, slipping underneath my pants and inside my underwear.
Feeling his hand down there, I gasped when his lips found my neck.
Arching into his hand, I reached for him and met his lips.
As he brought me to the edge, I groaned against his mouth, feeling his tongue sweep inside and then I spilled over, gasping.
Tray laughed softly against my mouth when he rolled me underneath him, both of us still fully clothed.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and let my head fall against the pillow. Tray laid there, his mouth now moving to my neck, one hand resting underneath my shirt entwined under my arm, by my shoulder. The other resting on one of my legs, caressing it lazily.
Tray let his full weight rest on me, which I liked and swept a hand down his back, and we stayed like that, neither pushing to go any further.
After a little while, Tray lifted his head and moved to the side, half his body resting on top of mine.
He murmured, “I get a distinct impression that you’re hiding out here.”
“Your distinct impression would be correct.”
