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Chapter Ten

Asher

After smoking, we head back inside to do our rounds. Bray is already choosing his girl for the night, and Cyrus watches me as I sell the baggies in my pocket. Neither of us have touched the shit or the drinks just yet. We do stop, however, when I spot Blair again. She’s dancing with the guy from earlier. Walker, I think his name is. A smile curves her rosy lips, and his hands are on her shaking ass as they move together. There’s barely any room between them before they start to kiss. I frown, observing them, wondering if she kisses as good as she dances. They break apart, and we watch, unable to look away as she scowls and glances over. A second later, she’s heading for a huge guy.

I get ready to help, but Cyrus holds me back. “She isn’t our problem. If she wants to pick a fight, then let her,” he snarls.

I nod but keep glancing over. My mouth drops open as she kicks his ass before heading into another room with the guy and her friend. Shit. Not only did she pick a fight, she won it. I can’t help but smile as I pass out more and take the money. Wandering through the party, I spot Bray going upstairs with a girl thrown over his shoulder. He better make up for it later by taking over so I can get drunk.

About two minutes later, I watch Blair drag the same guy she kissed upstairs, and jealousy roars through me. She’s off limits, I know that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish she were pulling me upstairs. If her dancing is any indication, she would be incredible in bed, all slow, slick moves and unashamed desire.

The way she would move…

“Concentrate,” Cyrus barks, and I drag my gaze away from the staircase they disappeared up. “Business first, then we can have fun,” he reminds me, even though he’s sober tonight to watch our backs. He’ll probably get into a fight or find someone to suck his dick to make it worthwhile.

I feel sorry for both of the people he’ll pick. But he’s right. I get back to work until we don’t have much left to sell, and then I relax with him on the sofa, ignoring those around us vying for our attention. They’re so boring and cliché, thinking if they impress us then they can get in on what we do and who we are. You can’t buy your way into being a Crew, you are born into it. The women think flashing their tits and riding our dicks will get them protection, fame, and a place in our group, but they are wrong too. They are nothing but something we use.

All of them are idiots.

My fingers tap on my leg, aching to grab a pencil and some paper to draw the way Blair’s lips tipped up slightly higher on the right side when she stared down at that man, and the high crest of her incredible tits and the droplets of water racing down them as she pulled herself from the pool after showing all those guys up.

Fuck.

Cyrus slaps me on the back of the head, bringing me out of my own thoughts. “Redhead cunt, go fuck that shit out of your head,” he demands. I roll my eyes and follow his gaze to a cute redhead trying to get my attention, her ample tits falling from her tiny top. Her ass cheeks are on display in her shorts, and her eyes are slightly glazed from booze, drugs, or both. But even as my dick twitches, she does nothing for me. She’s beautiful—truly, with incredible colours in her hair and adorable freckles she has tried to hide behind makeup—but she doesn’t have that spark... that life that I’ve become obsessed with after seeing Blair.

But I let her flirt and tease me, pretending to drink to keep Cyrus happy, knowing he worries about me. About an hour later, Bray comes downstairs, buttoning up his jeans. There’s no girl at his side, but he has a smug, satisfied smirk on his face as he heads over to us and downs my beer. “Shit, that was some good pussy.” He chuckles. “And I saw oursister” —he sneers the word— “coming out of the room opposite me. Seems she was getting some too.”

Just then we hear the blare of sirens drawing closer. It’s loud, even over the music and screams.

“Fuck,” Cyrus snarls. “Let’s bounce, we can’t be caught again.”

We quickly gather our shit and leave people staring at us in confusion as we move through the party with purpose. I wonder for a moment if I should warn Blair, but Cyrus is right.

She isn’t family, and family comes first.

Outside is total chaos. People are trying to leave the party so they don’t get a warning, or worse, arrested. Cyrus barrels through them, clearing a path to the side gate we found earlier. It leads through the trees to the layby on the road we parked our bikes at.

We just cross the gate when we hear footsteps behind us. I look back to see Blair there, pulling her drunk friend after her. She doesn’t even notice us until she basically runs into my back.

“Well, hello again.” I grin as I look down at her, my heart skipping a beat as I gaze into those flecked, glazed eyes.

“Oh great, my brother’s here to save the day,” she taunts, and then looks back as the music cuts off. “Shit, teasing later, moving now.”

She grabs my hand and yanks me along also, and I can’t help but jolt at the sudden warmth I feel from her touch, but she lets go all too soon. I curl my fingers into my palm to retain her heat as we rush through the trees—and right into the waiting cop car at the side of the road.

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