Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Bitch,” she hisses.
Like a dog with a bone, Oliver doesn’t let up. “What, you kissed RJ? When the hell did that happen?”
Mila rolls her eyes, bitterly gnawing on the inside of her cheek. “He was at that dorm party last week, remember? Spent the whole night hitting on me. Then we made out a little.”
Ballard’s quarterback snorts a laugh. “Oh, shit. That’s hilarious. Where the hell was I?”
“Last week?” I pipe up, confused. “They were together then.” And as I recall from swim practice, RJ was quite insistent about the unbreakable nature of their relationship.
“And apparently she set the whole thing up,” Mila says through clenched teeth.
“Why?” Oliver asks with a blank look.
“To make me look stupid. Because Sloane’s a shitty person.”
“Seriously?” I don’t mean to laugh at her, but it’s sort of sad. “Don’t you ever get tired of coveting everything Sloane has?”
Mila flips me the bird. “Aren’t you tired of coveting Sloane?”
“Dude.” Oliver cracks up. “Burn!”
He’s such a child.
“On that note, I think it’s time for another drink,” I announce, standing up.
Mila kicks my shin. “Get me one too.”
“Get it yourself.”
She twists her lips at the challenge and slowly rises to her feet. “You know, I might kinda like this new Silas.”
“Good for you.”
Oliver becomes distracted by something his running back says and absently taps Mila’s arm to ask her to bring him back a drink too. Together, Mila and I go to the refreshment tables and grab a couple of bottles of sparkling water. It’s hotter than hell in here and starting to smell like a dumpster full of broken perfume and cologne bottles baking in an alley behind a fast-food restaurant.
“So, what is it about Sloane’s toys that makes you so damn jealous?” I tease Mila.
“It must be fascinating to be so delusional,” she bites back. “What’s it like inside your head?”
“How far did it get?” I try to smother a smirk, but I can’t stop imagining how ridiculous Mila looked thinking she had a shot with RJ. “Just the tip, or…?”
“Fuck off.” She meanders away from the table toward the alcove that leads to the locker rooms. Goading me to follow her. “You know you’re, like, completely obsessed with them.”
I admire her ass beneath the stretchy red material of her dress. “I’m not the one getting caught up in their weird role-playing kinks.”
“You wish.”
“If I wanted Sloane, I could have her. She’s not worth the trouble.”
Slowly, I back Mila into the darkened alcove, just out of sight of the crowded room. Mila narrows her eyes. Like a dare. Testing me.
“What about Amy?” she taunts. “She’s also too much trouble?”
I press her back against the cold, painted cinder-block wall, my hands biting into her slender hips.
“I guess I bore easy.”
“You bored now?”
“Not yet.”
I cover her mouth with mine and pry her lips open with my tongue. Her body goes soft against me, kissing me back. Her fingernails lightly scratch across my scalp as her tongue teases mine.
I suppose some part of me always found Mila attractive. Despite what Amy thinks, I’d never paid much attention to anyone else while we were together. It never would have occurred to me then to wonder about my prospects with Mila Whitlock. Now, all bets are off.
When she lets out a quiet sigh, I open her legs with my knee and slip my hand under her dress. Skimming it toward the flushed skin on her inner thigh. Up to the warm, clenching place that makes her bite my bottom lip.
I dip beneath her panties and slide one finger inside her. My thumb finds the spot that makes her legs shake. She’s so wet.
“Where did this Silas come from?” she says breathlessly against my mouth.
I don’t respond. Grinding my hand against her core and making her breath catch in her throat.
Mila scrapes her teeth against the side of my neck. “Are you pretending I’m Sloane?”
“Does it matter?” I add another finger, thrusting it deeper inside her. “You’re pretending I’m RJ. Or Duke. Or whoever else Sloane has that you can’t.”
Mila arches her back. Tugging at my shirt, my jacket. Urging me on.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Oliver pass by the entrance of the alcove. Even though he doesn’t notice us, I make no attempt to remain undetected, not bothering to slow my movements. Mila, however, senses something’s different and opens her eyes. Just past the corner where we’re all but holding our breath, we hear Oliver asking if anyone’s seen her.
Mila runs her tongue across her bottom lip. She begins fucking herself on my hand, hiking her knee up around my hip. Shoulders pressed into the wall.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Fingering this chick while her date is twenty feet away, oblivious.
Not a total waste of a night, after all.
CHAPTER 51
LAWSON
I’M DONE. TIRED OF THE TERRIBLE MUSIC AND THE INCESSANT drone of voices. I feel like I’m trapped in a beehive. Everyone I even remotely like has already left, anyway. Or in Silas’s case, disappeared entirely. I have no idea where he’s run off to.