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“If you’re talking about something that rhymes with berry, then you have my word.” Kohen’s mouth curves upward in a sinister smile. “Though, I don’t know if you have Dove’s.”
“Then you better sort her the fuck out then.” I lower my voice and lean over the table. “Right now.”
Kohen shrugs, dancing off behind the makeshift stage. I point to where Maya and Val were. “Where are they all going?”
“Oh shit!” Kill leans up and grabs the phone from his back pocket. “We gotta get ready. There’s a party tonight and a little birdie told me it’s about recruits.”
I ignore his words and leave, shoving out of Kyrin’s way. He and I haven’t spoken much since the big punch. I can’t be bothered explaining myself and won’t explain myself. I’ll justify a lot of shit in my life. Why I do the things I do, how I am the way I am, but I will never explain Cartier.
I stop outside Delila’s old lilac bus, hearing music spilling out beneath the door. Gripping the handle, I swing it open and find Cartier stirring contents in a lowball glass. Her hair is falling over her shoulders in ocean waves, and her skin shimmers with gold flecks, as if she’s drowned herself in glitter. A little black G-string connects to suspenders, clicking onto a black lace bra that pushes her tits up.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my own personal nightmare.”
I pause. “You wearing that tonight?” Fuck, she looks good.
Her soft lips curve upward in a small smile. “I might. May as well go for tradition?”
I close the door behind me and close the distance. Wrapping my hand around her chin, I force her head up to face me. “Then you’ll probably need that bag of coke that Delila always kept stashed under her bed—you know—since you’re going for traditions.” I cock my head to the side and follow the curves of her neck down to her belly, past her thighs and down to her toes before slowly bringing my gaze back up to rest on her face. “And you look good, baby. You should definitely go like that.”
Her face falls. “What?” She pushes out of my grip and crosses one leg over the other. “I like possessive Keaton. Come back when he’s here.”
I lower myself onto the coffee table, hiding my laugh behind a smirk. “I don’t have to be possessive, Cartier.” Wrapping my fingers around the back of her neck, I force her lips against my own. “Everyone knows you’re mine.” I accentuate the N, licking her upper lip with my tongue.
She rests her hands on my thighs, stretching my legs wide and lowering herself to the floor in front of me. “Hmmm, maybe. Or maybe I’ve forgotten?” She bats her lashes up at me, flicking the button of my jeans off and leaning in to run the tip of her tongue over the edge of my bottom lip.
I lift up to allow her to pull my jeans down. When my cock falls out heavy, her little hand wraps around the shaft, not enough for her fingers to touch, but enough for her to direct the tip of my dick between her damp lips.
She peers up at me, flicking her tongue beneath the base of my crown. “Maybe I didn’t forget.”
I wrap her long hair around my wrist until it spills over my closed fist. “You need me to remind you where you belong?” I drag the tip of my other finger over her jaw as she sucks me deeper into the warmth of her mouth.
She peers up at me lazily, shaking her head as I run my finger up over my dick and between her lips. “Good girl, baby.” My balls tighten as she laps her little tongue over the curve of my dick. “Up. I’m hungry.”
She does as she’s told, quickly sitting back on her knees and staying where I left her. She gestures up at me with both her wrists, her red lipstick now smudged.
“Please?”
My brain short circuits when I see her in this position. Fucking Cartier Nero on her damn knees in front of me and all mine to fucking play with. There’s something about the way she says please. Like she damn well knows she can take whatever the fuck she wants from me and it’s hers.
“Not yet…” I swipe the saliva from around her lip with my thumb, sucking it off. “Later.”
Her shoulders fall and her mouth parts. “Keaton!”
“Nah, uh, baby.” I grab her by the wrist and help her to her feet. “And you’re coming with me so I can make sure you don’t finish yourself off before I get to.” I drop her hand and make my way to the stairs. “What are you wearing?”
“You know I’m going to have an attitude all night because of this!” she calls from downstairs.
“Fucking counting on it,” I mumble to myself, finding the dress she’s wearing lying on her bed. Picking it up, I grab the shoes that are beside it before jogging back downstairs to find her pouting on the sofa with a freshly poured glass of vodka.
“I hate you.”
“Awww, who doesn’t love a little degradation foreplay?” I nudge my head toward the door. “Get up. Let’s go.”
“Fine.” She pushes up from the chair and snatches the shoes out of my hands, slipping the red bottoms over her feet and doing up the buckles. I go to reach for her jacket, but she glares at me from over her shoulder, widening the door and stomping down the stairs. Shaking my head, I chuckle when the door shuts behind me and we make our way down to my bus.
Sass and Kill stop on the steps of theirs as they close the door behind them. “Ah, what?” He shakes his head and laughs. “I kinda wanna be a part of this!”
“No, you don’t!” Cartier sings back, stopping outside our bus.
