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And now I’m getting hard again…
“Well, I should head out,” I say, adjusting my pants and sliding my beer bottle to the front of the table.
“What? You can’t go yet! We’ve only had one drink,” she pouts, jutting out her bottom lip like a toddler.
“‘Fraid so. I have an early day tomorrow.” I don’t, but I don’t need her to know that.
“Fine,” she whines, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “I guess it’s okay since I’ll be seeing you at eight tomorrow morning!”
“Yep,” I reply, sliding from the bench seat. “See you in the morning.”
Felicity springs out of the booth, throwing her arms around my shoulders and plastering her fake tits to my chest. “I’m so glad you’re home, Lath,” she whispers just before placing her lips to my cheek. She had just painted them a dark shade of pink, so there’s no doubt in my mind I now have a lip mark to match.
A throat clears over my shoulder and I turn to find Freedom. She’s glaring, but not at me – at Felicity. “Out slumming it tonight, Latham?” she asks me, but doesn’t take her narrowed eyes off the woman who’s still plastered to my chest.
“Oh, zip it, Free. We were just having a drink, for ol’ times’ sake,” Felicity retorts, her arms still tangled around me.
“Mmhmm, I bet. Watch out, Latham. Rumor has it, this one has crabs,” Free whispers just loud enough for half the bar to hear.
Felicity gasps. “That’s not true!”
Free shrugs her shoulders. “That’s what I heard,” she says, turning her back to us and walking over to the bar. She slides onto the empty barstool to the right of Harper, who’s talking to Mara on her left. Harper looks freshly showered, her damp hair pulled up on top of her head in one of those messy bun things. Her face has minimal makeup, and if I do say so myself, she looks probably more beautiful right now than ever before.
Felicity is babbling beside me, probably trying to convince me she doesn’t have something itchy between her legs, but I completely tune her out. Instead, my attention is focused solely on the beauty at the bar, pretending to ignore me. But I saw the way she watched me out of the corner of her eye. She’s wearing a blue fitted tee and a pair of shorts that should be deemed illegal to wear outside of the home.
Not that I don’t enjoy them.
Hell, I think I’m enjoying them a little too much, if the sudden tightness in my pants is any indication.
Every dick in the joint is suddenly focused on the trio of women at the bar, or more accurately, at the pair of seemingly endless legs on the woman in the middle.
Jealousy rears its ugly green head, and I don’t like it.
“Ladies,” I say, sliding in between Harper and Free, essentially blocking the view of her from the rest of the assholes in the place.
“Satan,” Harper replies without even glancing my way.
“Aww, Harp, are you still upset your brother had to come fix your car?” I tease, reaching over her shoulder and grabbing a handful of popcorn. When she finally glances my way, an evil glare on her beautiful face, I offer her a smirk and a wink. Nothing gets Harper’s blood boiling like that deadly combination of male ego. I say deadly because several times she’s tried to maim me or threatened to cut off an appendage.
“You’re such a dick,” she grumbles, repeatedly stabbing me with her blue eye daggers.
“You want my what?” I can’t help it. I say it just to see if flames will actually shoot out of her ears.
“I want to cut off your dick.”
Leaning forward once more, I inhale her sexy, sugary, clean from the shower scent. “Sounds kinky. I’m not usually into BDSM, but for you,” I stop, glance down and take a long look at her exposed legs, “I’d be willing to give it a try.” Standing up straight, I take her beer bottle and bring it to my lips. “But I’m tying you up, love. I like to be in charge in the bedroom.”
Her face flushes. Damn, if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. But it’s quickly followed by her ears turning bright red in rage with the smoke I was wondering about earlier, billowing from her ears. “I’d rather tie you to a tree and let the wildlife feed on your decaying carcass.”
“This is so much better than porn,” Free says to Mara, who gives her a nod and smirk. “You two should just do it already. This beating around the bush, I hate you thing is fun, but I think you’re drawing it out too long. Let’s get to the sex.”
“I’d rather have sex with a porcupine,” Harper retorts, reaching for her beer bottle, but coming up empty. She turns my way and glares, earning a wide smile from me as I bring the beer to my lips and finish it off. “I hate you.”
“So you’ve said. Repeatedly,” I remind her, setting her empty bottle down on the bar and waving over the bartender. He looks familiar, and it only takes me a few seconds to figure out that it’s Brent Tanner, Mara’s husband. “Hey, man,” I say to my former classmate, extending my hand.
“Hey, Latham. Finally home from the Army?” he asks after shaking my hand. He reaches down into the cooler and pulls out another beer, popping off the top, and setting it in front of Harper.
“Home for good,” I confirm. I also realize I’m still wedged between Harper and Free and have my chest plastered to her. I also realize she doesn’t move, so I don’t either.
