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Maybe she’s tired of the vodka-soaked Russians, and she wants to sample the Italian sausage.

Speaking of sausage, I’m fucking starving. I don’t want to be here. I’d rather be at home in front of the television eating a pizza. I grab a beer from the ice bucket and rise from the couch since Rocco’s ass is still plastered to the seat. I nudge Kat toward the empty spot. “If you’re not drunk enough to sit there, help yourself to the scotch. It’ll make him easier to swallow.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

I shrug. “You never know where things might lead. I don’t judge.”

“You shouldn’t.” Kat leans closer, whispering into my ear. “But I do judge, and you’re a real asshat.” I follow her gaze until I see where it lands. My throat tightens. Damn Shaye and Nico. They planned this whole fucking thing.

Sloane is now sitting on the couch next to my leather-clad sister and their heads are bent together, mouths going a mile a minute. My cock twitches as I catch an uncharacteristic glimpse of Sloane’s upper thigh, and I will her to stand up so I can drink in every inch of her body, which, from what I can tell, is poured into an outfit that only makes me want to tear it off of her.

She must have borrowed it from Shaye, and if I had anything to say about it, it’d be balled up on my bedroom floor in a hot second.

“Let me guess.” Kat takes a gulp of the clear liquid in her glass, her eyes as alert as I’d ever seen them. Her tolerance is insane, courtesy of her daily vodka diet. “You’re looking, drooling, wondering how the hell you messed up so badly. Am I right?”

“It’s complicated,” I grumble, unable to tear my eyes away.

“Isn’t it always?” Kat smirks. “And do you think this badass, brooding older brother routine is going to get you another shot? Even though the only way Shaye could get her here tonight was to promise her that you’d be very far away?”

I turn toward Kat, jaw set. “I’m not looking for another shot.”

“Aren’t you?” Her dark red lips curl upward. “She’s a catch, Max. Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

“We’re just friends, that’s all. Her choice, by the way. Besides, it wouldn’t work. I’m not the right guy for her.”

“Why? Are you still looking to dip your wick into these disease-infested whores?” Kat waves a hand around her. “Are you addicted to pussy, Max? Is that what’s holding you back? Because your sorry ass is sitting here listening to another dude tell you all about what’s under his engine, rather than finding out what’s under hers.”

Good Christ, she’s a crass bitch. “Listen, Kat. I don’t see how who I fuck is any of your goddamn business. I can’t give Sloane what she needs, and that’s the end of it. Friendship is all I can offer her. And judging by the way everyone is laying into me tonight, I’m not doing too great on that front.”

Kat jingles the ice cubes in her empty glass. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing your mind realizes you’re not man enough to be what she needs.” She leans closer. “But I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that your cock is singing a different tune right about now. Tsk-tsk. Nobody filled him in, huh?” She gives me a little finger wave and twirls around, swinging her hips as she walks…right past Rocco.

His face falls faster than a dick that just shot a massive load. I roll my eyes. Jesus, is she ever tormenting him. I always knew she was some kind of masochist.

And a nosy fucking one at that.

Rocco slams his glass on the table and leaps off the couch. “I’m done here. Time to get laid.”

I nod. “Good luck with that.”

He storms past me and heads toward the dance floor on the hunt for his next conquest. Those two are so damn stubborn. Do they really think everyone is blind to the games they play with each other? Don’t they know that they’re made for each other?

And if that’s the case, shouldn’t they do everything to make shit happen?

Unlike me and Sloane who were doomed from the start.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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