Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
She tastes exquisite, like mint and something sweet. With my eyes closed, I drown everything else out and concentrate on our kiss. My dick strains against my zipper as a soft moan comes from Emma.
I’m about to rip off her clothes and bend her over the table in the middle of the library when someone next to us clears their throat loudly. Before I can even open my eyes, someone kicks the leg of my chair.
With a frustrated groan, I pull away from Emma to look at who interrupted us. Fuck. I think when I look at Preston scowling at me with accusation in his eyes. Shit, I broke our rule, or at least I was about to.
18
PRESTON
I can’t believe this fucker.
He doesn’t even text me to tell me that he’s found her. Then I find him with his tongue down her throat, ready to hump her.
Emma looks flustered when she starts to stuff her papers and books into her backpack.
“Where do you think you are going?” Easton asks.
“I don’t know about you, but I have class to go to,” she quips as she gets up from the chair.
“Wait,” I order. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?” she asks defensively, clutching her bag.
I almost roll my eyes at her. “Why does everything have to be a fight with you? I just want to save my number into your phone.”
“What for?”
“So you can call us when you need us,” I offer.
“I won’t need you,” she promises, glancing toward the exit like she is ready to make a run for it.
I grab her bag and pull it from her grip with ease. She sighs and stops fighting me. I unzip her bag and find her phone. Holding it in front of her face, I unlock the screen quickly. I type in my number and save it under “booty call” before I call myself. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I hang up, satisfied that I have her number now.
“There, was that so hard?” I hand Emma back her phone like the gentleman I am.
She snatches it from my grasp and stuffs it back in her backpack. “Can I go now?”
“Sure,” Easton and I say at the same time.
She scurries away, leaving me and my brother standing in the library.
“I don’t feel like going to class,” I announce.
“Me either. Let’s go back home and get drunk before we have to go volunteer,” Easton suggests, and I can’t agree fast enough.
We make our way back home to a now empty house. Easton goes straight to Dad’s liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of whiskey while I get some glasses from the kitchen. We meet in the living room, where we flop down on the couch before I pour us a glass each.
The first sip goes down smooth. I welcome the slight burn as the liquor settles on my empty stomach.
“I wish we had some weed right now,” Easton whines.
“We’ll get some from Briggs later. This will do for now.” I raise my glass to bring it to my lips once more. After I take a big gulp, I set the tumbler on the coffee table. “She regrets yesterday.”
“Yes, she basically told me earlier.” Easton fills me in on the rest of their conversation in the library. “She is just in her head. She liked what we did to her. She came multiple times.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, while memories from last night come rushing back.
“I want to fuck her again,” he admits with a smirk.
“Me too, but first we have to figure out this Brody thing. Now that we have Emma’s number, we could text her. Explain that Brody hurt Sarah again.” I grab my phone and pull her up from the missed calls.
“Good idea,” Easton agrees before downing the rest of his drink. “Refill?”
I nod, taking my glass, I empty it. My brother unscrews the bottle and refills our tumblers. “I’ll type something up before I get too drunk.”
A few minutes later, I have something written down I’m happy with.
Hey, pearls, first of all, last night was not about getting on your good side or whatever your mind has come up with, and what happened between us wasn’t a mistake. Second, Brody hurt my sister again, and he’s not going to stop hurting people unless we do something about it. Can you please get on our side on this?
I let Easton read and approve it before I hit send. I stare at the word ‘delivered’ wanting it to switch to ‘read’ but no matter how hard I glare at it, it just won’t do it.
“She is in class right now. She’ll read it later,” Easton points out.
Annoyed with having to wait. I throw my phone onto the couch next to me and pick up my drink again.
We spend the next two hours drinking, bullshitting about classes, and recalling wild parties we had at Carter’s house. We avoid talking about Emma, though she is never far from my mind. I check my phone constantly, but she still hasn’t read my message, and I know she is out of class now.