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White Claw. Hard seltzer.
His brain struggled harder to rouse.
“C’mon, baby,” that voice persisted. “You gonna sleep all night?”
Considering how his head was suddenly pounding, he just fucking might.
But then another of his senses came online. That of touch.
Weight… atop his lap… rubbing against his crotch…
Fingers cupping his jaw… Lips brushing his mouth… A teasing tongue.
Hands holdinghishands against… two wet, warmmounds?
He frowned and flexed his fingers… Firm tips pushed into his palms…
A soft, feminine moan… But not the same voice as before…
And, fuck, now that grinding atop his junk had started speeding up…
Fumbling for coherence, he grunted and turned his head, then peeled open his eyes—only to stiffen at the sight mere inches away. Shae, holding his hands against her tits as she ground against his junk, straddling his lap in her bikini thong.
With a jolt, his brain shot back into gear. “What thefuck?” He yanked his hands away. “Get off my lap.” When she merely pouted, he tersely removed her himself.
Shawnie was next. He cut her a biting glare. “Do you fuckin’ mind? You’re in my personal space.” Yeah, he sounded grumpy as hell, but damn it, he was pissed off that those two had pulled this shit.
“Don’t be mad.” Shae shifted to give him more room. “Remember? You told us to come wake you up if you passed out.”
This was true, but unbeknownst to them, he’d passed out on purpose with no intention to rejoin the fray. Ned and their posse had other plans, and he didn’t even have his car back yet to go lay low somewhere. Because, just like last night, he’d been in no mood for partying. Unfortunately, avoiding said party was easier said than done when your place was hosting the damn soiree.
Plus, feeling as bummed as he was, he’d wanted a break from his mind just as much as the loud festivities. So, he’d resorted to using alcohol as his means of escape. Wouldn’t be hard, he hadn’t eaten in days. The game plan: guzzle hard and get his gloomy ass unconscious as quick as possible.
He’d been well on his way, too, when these two had all but cornered him, reminding him that he promised them a moon dance in the pool out back. Which he had, but under the pretense that he’d oblige themlater. Akanever, since he’d soon be dead to the world.
Problem was, when they’d regarded him dubiously and voiced their concern that he’d pass out first, his dumb ass stupidly granted them permission to wake him up. Probably because he’d been confident they’d never succeed. After all, when they’d intercepted him, he hadn’t been headed to grab just another beer. He’d been on his way to procure himself some nails-in-the-coffin shots. Whatever was being slammed in the kitchen when he staggered through the door. Which was Smirnoff, incidentally, making him think of Tad. And just as he’d hoped, they’d shoved him over the edge for speedy light outs.
Regrettably, he’d underestimated these girls’ determination.
They smiled cheekily and rose to their feet, grabbing each of his wrists. Evidently, they still wanted that dance in the stupid pool.
Not gonna happen.
The king was pissy and had a headache.
He resisted their efforts. “How long have I been out?”
“Hour and a half.” Shae grinned and pulled his arm harder.
“We were sweet like that,” Shawnie crooned, “and allowed you a nap.”
Ugh. He was fresh out of tricks but had zero intention of going anywhere with these two lionesses. By that look in their eyes, he could tell they were eager, set on sinking their claws in and voraciously eating him alive.
“Hey, hey! Your Majesty’s finally awake!” Charlie’s voice.
Oh, thank God.Saved by that junkyard dog onand offof the court.
Relieved, Breck turned as Charlie and Jegs ambled over.
