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Silence. “Where are you?” Keaton and I have danced to the same tune since we were probably too young to recognize the feelings we were both experiencing. This isn’t anything new, but what is new—thanks to the two things I call legs that opened faster than I could tell myself no—is the heat that seems to pool between my thighs any time I think of our night together. Or that anxiety that coils around my belly like live wire whenever he’s around. These are all new. Keaton is hot, sure—they all are. Except my brother, of course. Gross. But Keaton has always been different. He never hid his demons, he trained them to stand at his side so people knew exactly who they were dealing with when they met the deep depths of his hazel eyes.
“I’m at a bar with Nial. Where are you…?” I feel my cheeks tighten as a smile spreads over my face. When my eyes collide with Nial, my smile falls. Shit. “No, but seriously…”
“In the air somewhere between the US and Turkey.” Jealousy digs its ugly claws into my chest when I hear everyone laughing in the background. No doubt they took the 747 and are all having the time of their lives up there while I’m down here, drinking in a shady bar.
I cross my leg over the other, pointedly ignoring Nial. Thankfully, it isn’t loud, and the woman who was on the stage earlier has left. “What’s with the phone call?”
“Wondering how you’re coping with your newfound freedom, since Ky decided to leave your leash loose. Didn’t expect a bar. You’re fucking seventeen.”
“Hmmm, the same way I didn’t expect you to be who you are either…”
Silence again.
“Cartier…” His tone is low, just enough for me to hear a distinct growl at the end of the R. “Get outside somewhere quiet so I can actually talk to you and do it now.”
“Or what?” I play, noticing the woman re-entering the stage, only now with a different dress on. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, her eyes now rimmed with dark hollows. She has tried to hide it with concealer, but it hasn’t held well. “You’re all the way up in the air.” I lower my voice but stand quietly from the table, holding up two fingers to Nial to gesture two minutes. “What could you possibly do to me, hmm?”
As soon as the outside air slaps me across the face, I feel alone with him. Leaning against the concrete wall, I breathe out a sigh of relief from being out of the confinement of the bar.
His laughter rolls right down the crack of my spine. “You really think I can’t have you naked, spread eagle, and finger fucking yourself to the sound of my voice if I don’t want you to?” His words settle between my thighs and they clench together to stop from reaching further. I can hear someone in the background. “Tigger, do you really think I can’t have you naked, wet, and waiting for me when I land? Whether that be tomorrow, two weeks…”
My throat dries and my eyes slam closed. I’m going to need to talk myself down if I want my heart to stop thrashing against my ribcage like a cellmate on death row.
“What are you wearing?” he adds barely above a whisper.
“I—a leather skirt and puffer jacket.” My tongue slides over my bottom lip as I look down the street. People are walking by without a clue. One woman is walking her lap dog while yelling at someone down her phone. Another is looking down at the ground with sad eyes, unable to hold eye contact with anyone.
“Good. Put your hand on your pussy…”
“Keaton—”
“Did I stutter?”
“I’m on Eat Street. At lunch time. It’s busy.”
“Did I ask for those details?”
“No…” I answer, my hand finding its way up my inner thigh. Could it be possible for New Yorkers to be so self-absorbed that they won’t notice what I’m doing? Possible.
“Do as I say. Close your eyes, imagine I’m right in front of you…” My eyes close and I’m wrapped in darkness, with nothing but my beating heart and his voice.
“Okay…”
“How wet are you?”
His voice alone lights my body up like the Fourth, and a slight moan slips from between my lips when my thumb brushes against my clit. “Really wet…”
“Good.” His sensual tone evaporates. “Remember this next time you think I can’t control you just because I’m forty thousand feet in the air.” My eyes pop open like someone had just dumped ice water over my head.
My feet land to the floor in a thud just as familiar laughter barks out through the phone. My mouth hangs open in horror when I realize what Keaton just did.
Kyrin hollers again loudly in the background. “Fuck. Tigger goes off, huh?”
My cheeks ignite into flames as Keaton responds to my brother, but his words are directed at me. “Yeah, she knows who owns her, and if she didn’t…” He pauses, and I can imagine the smug smirk on his stupid face. “…She sure as fuck does now.”
I hang up on him with an exasperated scream, cutting off Kyrin’s loud cackle. We’ll see who’s laughing when you find out who Tigger is, Brother…
I push my phone into my pocket. Revenge is going to look so sexy smeared over Keaton’s face.
