Page 158 of Tease Me


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“What the fuck?” I yelled, working to free my hand from his grip while I stumbled along behind him.

“Just come the fuck on.” He marched faster than seemed possible with that cast toward where Cook had been working the grill.

When he found my brother’s best friend, Wilde snapped, “Celt? Where the fuck is he?”

Cook had an arm draped over one of the girls’ shoulders, his head working toward her ample cleavage. Looking up from his apparent conquest, he said, “Hey... chill.” He’d obviously had a little help with chilling himself. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked us up and down. His words weren’t much faster when he added, “What has you fired up?”

I finally pulled my hand free from Wilde’s grip with a quick downward thrust. I stepped in front of him, looking up slightly and challenging him nose-to-nose. “Yeah. What the fuck was that?” I’d seen this kind of protective behavior triggered in my brother, so I knew well enough that his instincts had fired. I wanted to know why.

He looked over my shoulder to Cook. “Hang on, man,” Wilde said, clearly preparing to deal with me. He clasped both my arms just south of my shoulders and turned his back to Cook, his nostrils flaring. His hands thrummed with energy where they held my upper arms, and he yanked me flush with his rock-solid body.

I gasped, pissed at the way he was dragging me around, but also turned on so much I didn’t know if I should throw him down on the ground right here or wind up and clock him across the jaw to knock the alpha fucker out of his eyes. I was certain I could outmaneuver him with that cast. The ground seemed more satisfying, because after the slow dance at the fire, I was also sure that option would end up with us both seeing stars and breathing heavily for much better reasons.

Wilde inhaled, hissing through his clenched teeth. His voice was low at my ear when he said, “Listen. Not sure what’s happening, but that bitch means danger, and I’m going to do everything in my goddamn power to keep that shit away from you.”

He rocked his hips into me—his cock still impossibly enormous and hard. He was clearly marking his territory. I swear his eyes glowed with the distant firelight as he held my gaze and willed me to comply. And holy hell, my pussy clenched, wetness gushing, soaking my panties.

“And we’re not done with what we started,” he growled, “but it’s going to have to wait.”

Wilde didn’t wait for me to reply, not that I could form words anyway. He spun back at Cook. “You gonna tell me where Celt is or am I going to have to go looking for him?”

Cook gave a shrug and pointed to the chairs just outside the firelight.

“Fuck.” Wilde said with a quick glance over his shoulder as he started in that direction. “Come on.”

He didn’t grab me this time. He didn’t need to. I followed willingly. Anger, confusion, and arousal all stirred inside. I kept one eye on the waif who’d started this abrupt change in Wilde. She watched us as she slunk around the fire.

We found Celt indulging himself away from the main group.

Wilde grabbed the whore who was sucking my brother off and pulled her to her feet. “Get lost,” he barked.

I averted my eyes, so I didn’t have to see my brother’s junk.

Straightening her tank over her tiny tits and wiping spittle from her lips, the whore scampered over to the fire. Meanwhile, Celt stood, turned slightly, and put himself back together, grumbling about the cock-block. He seemed a little more coherent than earlier. Either the weed-high had worn off or he’d done a little blow to up his game. Probably the latter, I realized when I got a good look into his eyes. His pupils were so large, the blue had almost disappeared. Whores, yeah, they’d been a part of life since we’d been kids. Weed was an everyday thing in The Ridge, but I really wished he would stay away from the blow.

Wilde pointed across the fire to the skinny whore with violet eyes. “Who the fuck is that and where did they find her?”

Celt squinted, sniffed, said, “Dunno, man. Why?” and wiped the back of his hand under his nose.

Yep. Blow. I ground my teeth.

Wilde didn’t answer.

I glared at my brother. He didn’t do blow that often, so I held my tongue.

Celt continued, “The boys bring ‘em back from LA or Phoenix, depending on where the biz is. Did she pull a gun? Knife?”

“Nah,” Wilde said, folding his arms over his massive chest.

The waif had moved on to a younger Ridge Rat, Lynch. She had him by the hand and was leading him away from the fire ring. He followed like a fucking puppy. I winced, thinking, hope she likes sharp objects.

“That’s your men who brought these girls back?” Wilde asked, slowly searching each person’s face. “You know all the men here?”

“Yeah, after that one bitch cut up Cook, the boys strip ’em naked and check every orifice for weapons before they load ’em up and haul ’em out here.” He backhanded Wilde on the arm, chuckling. “You should ask Cook about his scar sometime.”

Wilde stood there with his lips tight, his brows dropped, and his arms folded for a long time. Neither Celt nor I spoke. I watched Wilde, wondering what he was working out behind eyes.

“Anywho,” Celt finally broke the silence, but he eyed Wilde suspiciously. Then he looked at me and back.

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