“Girl, let’s go!” I pull the door open, listening for my car’s engine to fire up when I press the button on the key fob. “If you’re not out here in three minutes, I’m leaving!”
A package catches my eye as I go to let the door close behind me, so I take it back inside, setting it on the table, right as Davis slips from her room.
“Sorry! I couldn’t find my other sandal. I had to get on all fours and pull a serious yoga move to reach it—oh! Is that mine?” She smiles, rushing over.
Her hair is down and sleek straight, small braids on each side pinned in place by Laffy Taffy hair clips, the same shade of teal as her tank top. Her shorts are high on her waist and high up her thighs. She looks good. Sweet.
Sexy.
“Your shorts are too short.”
Her eyes flick up to mine.
“Where you going again?”
“Some street fair thing. Crafts and food and what not. Jess’s little cousin’s dance team is in the parade, so it should be fun.” She shrugs, picking up the package. “One more minute?”
“Hurry up. I’m grabbing my wallet, and we’re out.”
She squeals, dashing back to her room, and quickly closes the door, so I head into mine, digging through the laundry for the jeans I took off last night.
I find them in the bathroom, and the second I come out, Davis does too.
She smiles, slings her purse over her shoulder and heads out the door. “Come on, slowpoke!” she teases.
My eyes fall to her outfit.
Same teal shirt, same too-short shorts.
Huh.
The car door opens and closes, letting me know she’s inside it, so I push her bedroom door open, picking up the plastic wrapping that she threw on her bed.
My brows fly up, and I flip it over, viewing the example photo on the other side.
Round and full, a bare ass stares back, nothing but a string disappearing down the crack, but it’s what’s above that, that catches my attention.
The stretchy strings of the strappy lace are sewn in the shape of a diamond, the bottom point resting right at the crack of the ass and hanging from the top center is a dangling diamond.
Panties.
My eyes slice to the floor, scouring from left to right, and sure enough, a purple pair lies bunched at the foot of the bed.
She came back in here to change her panties.
She’s wearing panties meant to be played with.
Meant to be twisted around a tight fist and tugged on, nipped on.
Sucked on.
My dick twitches in my jeans, and I glare at it.
Don’t fucking start, my man. We’ve been through this. You can’t have her. Not now.
The devil on my shoulder smirks, whispering words I want to hear.
No one else can either.
“Yo, we need more of that wine!” Drew shouts, hustling to pour out a row of shots, then moving on to the next drink.
Paula sighs, stretching to snag some napkins and tosses them on her tray. “If I don’t get table four their Tom Collins, those frat boys are going to cause a stir.”
“I got it.” Tossing my towel in the bucket, I slip away, rushing to the basement for another crate of wine. How we ended up with two bachelorette parties and a nifty-fifty party on the same night, I have no fucking clue.
It’s good for business but having half the staff I need on a night like this is the opposite, so I call my boys for a bailout.
“What’s up, fuckhead?” Willie answers the first ring.
“Any chance your brothers are over?”
“Yup. Layla made meatloaf.”
“Bring me some and pour some drinks?”
“Be there in fifteen.”
Thank fuck.
Upstairs, I don’t even have a chance to put the bottles away before we’re opening and refilling glasses. At least we’re getting through this shit. I’ve been sitting on it for weeks now.
As promised Willie, Julius, and Xavier tear through the crowd, and like I knew it would, it draws every female that wasn’t already hovering around the bar, right fucking to it.
Yeah, the Sanchez brothers’ presence made us even busier, but they’re quick with charm and quicker with the shake-off, so it works.
We grind through the orders with ease, bumping and nudging each other all the way through, and finally, a little after ten, we’re on good timing. Taking orders and pushing them out before the next person steps up ready to put theirs in.
“Goddamn, son.” Willie nods, looking around. “You’re getting more and more students than ever. Surprised they’re Ubering this way with two bars down the road from the school.”
“It’s almost the end of the semester. They’re in party mode and there’s more shit to do around here,” X says.
“True.”
Drew walks up, chugging down a glass of water. “Think I can sneak away for a smoke?”
Cutting my eyes to the clock, I nod. “Go out back and don’t be letting anyone in through there.”
He salutes me with a smirk, slipping past.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a text from Davis.
Davis: Any chance you have a free table?
Hot pink-ass jewelry.
I frown, shaking off my thoughts.
Me: No. It’s a madhouse in here.
The last thing I need is for her to walk in here with those tiny shorts.
Holding my phone in my palm, I wait for a response, but it doesn’t come quick enough, so it’s stuffed back in my pocket, looking to the group who just slid up to the bar.
“Another round of Crown?”
They laugh and nod, and I get to pouring.
Drew comes back in, stepping up beside me, and slips the limes over the rims while I cash them out.
“You didn’t tell me my wifey was coming tonight.”
My head snaps his way, and I follow his line of sight to the edge of the crowd Davis has just pushed through.
She pauses, looking back, and I wait for her friend to step around the guy who shoved his way through behind her, but she faces forward then.
Walks forward, the tall, lean blond at her side.
“Or that she was bringing a date.”
Date?
I frown, my eyes locked on her approaching form.
Willie slides up then. “Uh-oh.”
Julius is next. “Well, well, Davis the Virgin has herself a friend.”
She reaches the bar with a smile, says hello to all my boys, and likely looks to me, but I can’t be sure. My attention is locked on the person smiling at her side.
“This is my friend, Jess,” she says, and something in me boils.
Jess.
This is Jess?
Jess isn’t short for Jessica.
Jess is simply fucking Jess.
Her friend.
Her male friend.
Her tall, trim, preppy-looking fucker of a friend.
Hot pink-ass jewelry…
A wall slams over me, and I glare at the SOB who sticks his hand out to me. Slowly, my head turns, my eyes locking on hers.
You fucking serious, Sweets?
Davis
Is he serious?
He’s just going to stand there and stare with crazy eyes?
“Willie.”
I look over, catching the quick wink Willie tosses my way as he offers Jess his hand.
Jess visibly relaxes, accepting the handshake. “Nice to meet you.”
Relief washes over me, and I smile, glancing from Jess to Willie.
“Thanks for bringing Davis.” Willie nods as he leans forward. “You can go now.”
My head snaps his way, expecting a grin to curve his lips, but Willie simply stares, one arm bent on the bar top, the other stretched out wide, palm flat against it.
What the hell?!
“Such a joker.” I force a chuckle, gripping Jess’s arm and tugging him backward with a big-fat fake smile. “We’re going to try and find a table so—”
“Sit here.”
My eyes snap to Crew’s.
“Right here.” There’s a warning in his gaze, one that flicks from my face to my hand on Jess and back.
I wish I had a pie to smash in his perfect face. A hot one.
Willie nods from his right.
Julius appears on his left.
And not a second later, Drew wedges his way in, presses his forearms to the bar top, and stares.
They all stare.
A sudden anxious laugh breaks from my throat before I can stop it because…
Seriously, what the hell is happening?
“You know what, I have an early day tomorrow.” Jess turns to me, his smile soft. “I’m going to head home, but if you want to ride back with me now, you can.”
I open my mouth to speak, but then an arm wraps around my shoulder, and I look over to find the third and final brother.
“She’s in real good hands here.” Xavier grins wide. “But hey, maybe she’ll call you later or you know, not.”
My tongue is officially swallowed, and just like that, Jess nods as he takes a few steps away.
“Thanks for today,” I rush out. “And I will call you later.”
Jess grins then, his eyes flicking toward the bar before he leaves.
The arm on my shoulder is shoved off and mine is gripped between long, firm fingers.
Before I know what’s happening, Crew is steering me off the floor with swift strides, curling us around the bar and up the short set of stairs leading to the office.
Two feet in, he whips around to face me, but I snap first.
“What is your issue?”
“That’s Jess?”
Eyes wide with mockery, I nod. Duh.
His jaw tics. “The Jess you went to the street fair with today, the one you make desserts for, have a weekly dinner with… drank with the other night?”
“I only have one friend named Jess, so yeah.” I shake my head.
What is his problem?
Crew glares. “He’s a dude.”
My mouth opens and closes.
“Yeah…” I drag out. “I’m aware.”
“You came home buzzed and hard up, horny as hell.”
“I was not!”
“You started asking about how and why a man holds you, then ran your hands all over my body. You were so desperate for something.” His tone is hard. Short.
“I was not desperate!”
He pushes into my space. “Your straps were down your shoulders when you came in. He push them there?”
“Oh my god! No!”
“Do not lie to me, Baby Franco.” He speaks low, lethally calm.
“Why would I lie, and again, what is your issue?!”
Crew scoffs, running his hand down his face as he jerks back with a low growl. “You’re unbelievable, swear to God.”
He looks at me, an incredulous expression tightening his features. “Is all this bullshit about you needing help and what-the-fuck-not your way of trying to become brave enough to climb on that motherfucker’s cock?”
I blink. Hard. And then I shout, “What?!”
“You spend all your time at work and school… and with that yacht-club-looking dipshit. Admit it, he’s the person you want to learn how to fuck for.”
“You are so off the mark, it’s not even funny!”
“Then why put on the slutty panties today?”
My mouth drops open, anger rushing through me. “How do you know what panties I’m wearing?”
He rolls his eyes.
Rolls. His. Eyes. As if my question is dumb or irrelevant.
I push my chest into his, glaring up at him. “Jess is my friend.”
“Men cannot be friends with you, Davis. There’s no fucking way. And women don’t wear shiny new toys for men they don’t want to fuck.”
“Oh, okay. So, then what, huh?” I snap. “If he and I can’t be friends, I should just offer him the spot in my bed and see what happens?”
Crew growls. Literally growls and presses me into the wall. “Watch your mouth, little girl.”
“Hey, it was your idea,” I sass back. “If you’re not going to take our arrangement seriously, I’ll—”
“You’ll do what?” He speaks through clenched teeth, lowering his head so we’re nearly eye level. “You will do nothing. It’s like you said, we made a deal.” He jabs a finger in his chest. “I decide who, when, maybe even where. Me. Not you or anyone else. You got me?”
I lift my chin in defiance and a deep rumble works its way up his throat.
“I said. Do. You. Got. Me?”
“Yes! I got you. You’re in charge of the cherry, pop it at your pleasure!”
He scoffs, stepping back from me, but only by inches, so with as much added force as I can muster, I knock my shoulder into his with my exit, but again, he’s annoyingly steady on his feet. No part of him budges.
I get a solid, single foot past him when a harsh curse leaves me.
In true Crew fashion, he allows me no farther, gripping my wrist suddenly, then tugging and tucking me back into his chest.
Lips press firmly against my ear, as he speaks in a low, needy rasp, “I lied, Sweets.”
Thrown off, I frown, my heart thumping erratically as I wait for more.
“The panties, they’re not slutty. They’re fire.” His palms lower, latching around my waist for a quick, short squeeze. “And I have no fucking doubt they look even better on.” And then he’s gone.
Me?
I’m a broken faucet, drip, drip, dripping away.
Melting internally after he acted like an ass. A bossy, controlling ass.
What’s that say about me?
Sighing, I lean against the wall, toying with the ice cream pendant necklace locked around my neck.
Yeah, I’m busting out Betty the Boy Toy tonight, and turning the dial to ten.
A thought hits me then, and I wonder if Crew will go for it.
It’s doubtful, but all a girl can do is ask, right?
Right.
So, several hours later, when we’re walking into our apartment, I set my bag down and turn to Crew.
“You said to tell you if there’s something I want or need.”
His attention snaps my way, his movements slowing as he sets his keys on the table. “I did.”
“Right, so… will you watch me touch myself?”
