Page 90 of Bitter Notes


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“Shush,” Leon mutters, shoving Marcus as he returns to the kitchen with a laugh.

“Ohh, Pretty Girl. You’ve got a lil something,” Rad says with a smirk, pointing to my chin. With my tongue, I try clearing off the remnants of the cheese but fail. Rad grins more, leaning over to run his tongue up my chin and over my parted lips. “Yummy nachos,” he says with a wink, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I groan, holding his face to mine until he pulls back panting and wide-eyed.

“Fucking gross,” Asher grumbles, shaking his head at our antics.

“Yo, barkeep!” Rad barks out with a laugh, slamming his hand on the counter.

Marcus sighs, meandering over with a frown. Leaning against the bar, he shakes his head. “Listen, kid. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not the barkeep,” he grumbles, cocking his head to the side.

“Meh,” Rad says, waving a hand. “Can you get me…”

“Just four beers,” Asher commands through gritted teeth. “You don’t need that fruity shit when we’re about to perform.” He stares daggers at Rad, who puffs out his bottom lip and pouts. “It’ll upset your damn stomach. I don’t need a barf-fest repeat of last year.” I wrinkle my nose at the reference, not wanting to ask what the barf-fest involved.

“You really need to get laid, man. You’re getting way too stuck up for your own good. Pretty Girl, why don’t you tell him?” Rad wiggles his brows when I shove another cheese-filled chip into my mouth.

“Nope. Not touching that subject,” I say through my mouthful of food, tasting the lie on the tip of my tongue instead of the spicy nacho cheese.

Asher raises a brow at me like he’s pried my brain open, reading my every thought. If he did, he’d see the images of our night together on the Ferris Wheel running through my mind.

“I got off just fine into your panties,” Asher says in a low voice, stopping the cheese-soak chip from entering my mouth. Color me shocked and awed because I swear to hell he’s flirting with me, which is confirmed when he moves my hand toward his mouth and eats the chip in my hand, moaning at the taste.

“Yeah, so fucking good. Maybe I’ll get some later,” he says, wrapping his mouth around my fingers. My body stiffens when the tip of his tongue roams the length of my fingers, sucking it into his mouth. Over and over, he swirls his tongue, sucking all the cheese and salt from my flesh. With a pop, he frees my hand and grins at me, only offering me one small wink in return for my stunned expression.

Fuck. Me.

My cheeks heat when his gaze stares right through my damn soul, and I swear, if they didn’t have to go on stage, I’d slather cheese on my lady bits and have him lick his way to the center. How many licks does it take for the Asher to get to the center of the kitty cat? We’ll never know because just as I’m about to entertain his panty comment with a quick retort about coming somewhere else besides fabric, we’re interrupted by the she-devil I swore I told off.

“Oh my god, Asher Montgomery!” Comes a shrill familiar voice from the depths of the large crowd. My skin immediately crawls, and my stomach sours. Great, there goes my damn nachos. Another meal ruined by some stuck-up jerk. I set my chip down like it offended me and pout.

“Yay! Tiny Tots Tessa,” Rad mumbles, running a hand down his face with irritation. “I bet she’d volunteer as tribute.” All the air leaves Rad’s lungs when Ash’s elbow meets his gut, and he huffs. “Not cool, bro. You almost hit the little dangling Rads.”

“I’d rather you bite off my dick and feed it to myself after I grill it as sausage than ever dip my dick into that,” he grits out, standing rigidly when she approaches with a big smile. “I’d fuck Little Brat for forty-eight hours straight on Viagra, chance chafing and dick pains than ever fuck that,” he grunts, sending shivers down my spine.

A sparkle twinkles in his eye when I shiver at the thought of a sexathon with him for hours. Oh, hell. Asher must be growing on me. Or I’m just horny. When I turn to Rad, he’s grinning like crazy in my direction with a dreamy look on his face.

“I think we’re going to have to put her on the no-fly list,” I grumble, earning a smirk from Asher, who snorts.

It’s like the night of the celebration never happened, and she’s back to looking at Asher like he’s her future baby daddy. Fat chance, Blondie. Maybe I’ll have to remind her who these boys are dicking down these days. It’s definitely not her.

Tessa’s long blonde hair is thrown into a pretty bun on the top of her head. And this time, she forgot the pearls at home, replacing them with a small black choker hugging her throat. Well, hey. She’s at least trying to fit in with the crowd with attire this time, sporting her new Whispered Words shirt and distressed jeans.

“Asher! I can’t wait to see you play tonight!” she says with enthusiasm, bouncing on her toes. “Any new songs yet? My mom said you were going to the Battle of the Bands! You’re going to be famous!” With every word Tessa shrieks, the further Asher pulls himself away from her. He visibly cringes when she winds her arm through his, leaning her head against his arm with hearts in her eyes.

My fists curl at his visible discomfort. You know, strange men make my skin crawl with anxiety in situations such as this. Whenever they touch without permission and take, take, take. So what’s so different about a woman making a man uncomfortable? The band has repeatedly told her to fuck off and leave them be and that they aren’t interested. Yet, Tessa doesn’t get the hint and keeps coming around like a desperate hussy looking for dick any way she can.

“We have a rad-diculous new song called, Fuck You,” Rad deadpans, taking a long sip of his beer to cover up his disgust. His dark eyes lock on me when I raise a brow, and he shrugs in response.

Tessa beams, looking smugly at me. “Oh my god. We can’t wait to hear it! You guys are so good!”

Ugh. Sometimes I wish I had a remote so I could mute people. Like, click—you’re muted now, bitch. Then she’d flap her gums, and no one would hear the shit she spews.

“Yeah,” Asher says through a tight smile, trying to pry her hand off him. “I can’t either. Are you ready?” he begs Rad with furrowed brows, stepping away from the harasser. Tessa swoons, staring at his tall form with hearts in her eyes.

“Fuck off, now,” I snarl in Tessa’s direction, watching with glee when she rears back with disgust.

For some reason, Tessa doesn’t utter a word when the boys wave goodbye, heading for the stage. Instead, she watches them like a fucking predator about to pounce on her prey.

“See ya backstage, Pretty Girl!” Rad hollers as the crowd swallows them whole, and they disappear behind the tall bodies of their fans.

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