by Amo Jones
He shook his head. “That you’re a virgin?” he scoffed. “No. Definitely not.”
“Jeez, thanks,” I said dryly.
“What I mean is that I have experience in women, and I can smell your virginity within a ten-mile radius.”
I shrugged. “Well, I need to get rid of it. Tonight was a bust.” I glanced down to my pink SideKick cellphone. I made my dad buy it for me as soon as they came out. “It’s not even midnight. I might have time to call Jason,” I whispered to myself. “Obviously, he would be happy to take it, and he’s not too bad, and do you wanna know what’s even better?” I perked, looking at him in excitement. “He’s leaving next year, so I won’t have to see him again. Yup, he’s perfect.” I begin pressing the keys on my phone.
Ryker reached over, snatching my phone out of my hand. “You need to just shut the fuck up and stop trying to give that shit away for free. Jesus, what the fuck? A few drinks in you, and you’re a nympho with daddy issues? You’re like that girl on Wedding Crashers.”
I laughed, taking my phone back from him and ignoring the pang of electricity that zipped through my fingers at our simple touch. “Ahhh, no. I need someone who won’t get emotionally attached and won’t want anything after. Just fuck me and then leave. Ergo, nothing like the crazy virgin on Wedding Crashers.” I rubbed my hand across my forehead. “Jesus, I’m sorry. I’m drunk. I get brutally honest when I’m drunk.”
He pulled into our driveway and punched in the key code for our high gates. What the hell? My dad told him our key code? If you didn’t have a card, there was a code you could punch in instead. He kept driving forward, silence filling our empty space. The awkwardness would’ve made me squirm had I been sober. We came to a halt, and Ryker got out of the truck and came to open my door, helping me step down. My skirt rode up a little, and the tight tank top I was wearing went up with it, showing the slit of my skin between my shirt and my skirt.
I waltzed past him, headed toward the pool house, when I realized he wasn’t following.
Spinning around, I cocked my head. “What? You’re not going to at least walk me up?”
He shut the door and began walking toward me in slow, calculating steps. “Here’s the thing,” he started, and I placed my hands on my hips. “I told your dad about Jesse—”
“Jason,” I corrected, knowing damn well he knew his name.
He smirked briefly before carrying on. “—because I knew what he was doing. I overheard them talking about it.” I go to interfere and ask him why, when he threw his hand up. “I’m not done. I didn’t do it because I respect your dad. I mean, I do respect him, but that respect came second after I saw that glorious ass up in the air when you reached for your bag last Monday. If you haven’t figured it out, my cock comes first.” He stopped in front of me, his hard body flush up against mine, and my breath hitched. Slowly, I ran my eyes up his lean chest, past his tan tattooed neck, over his plump lips, and then into the eyes that held so much power and seduction they’d have Mother Theresa ripping her clothes off and calling him Daddy.
“Why?” My voice came out raspy, so I cleared it and glanced to the side before looking back to him. “Why’d you do that?”
He shrugged, displaying a cocky grin.
“Because I can,” he whispered harshly.
“Just FYI, that’s a shitty-ass excuse.”
He laughed, nudging his head toward the opening to the garden. “Come on.”
She pushed through the pool house door, which also happened to be her room, and I walked in, kicking it closed behind me.
“You don’t have to stay,” she slurred, dropping her phone to her bed. Her room was plain in a sense. The walls were a classic white, with the trim a slightly off-white shade. Her queen-sized four-poster bed was covered in a white comforter that looked like a gigantic marshmallow.
Women.
Opposite her bed laid a big, white sheepskin rug. There was one thing I noticed since being around Bryleigh tonight. She smelled fucking incredible. Like cinnamon on a spring morning with freshly picked strawberries. Fucked up, I know, but it’s what came to mind when I thought of her smell, which was what this room smelled like. The room was all open-plan, with her little (big) living room that dipped down from her bedroom in a couple steps, and from where I could see, there was a little kitchen that sat in there too, overlooking the rock lagoon pool. Bryleigh came walking back out with her hair all messy and her makeup scrubbed off.
“Sorry,” she muttered, leaning against the bathroom doorframe.
“For what?” I asked, with a smile.
“For you having to babysit me, and for me telling you to not fuck me like a princess.”
Holy shit.
Game time is over; I’m fucking done. This girl wants to be fucked like a whore? I doubt she could handle it.
I walked up to her, pushing my hands into my pockets. Her eyes scanned mine nervously.
“You don’t mean that.”
She nodded her head. “I mean it. I’m sorry.” She pushed off the doorframe and walked toward the three-seat sofa that sat in front of the biggest television I had ever seen.
“I’m not talking about that,” I all but growled at her.
Her head cocked sideways as she ran her eyes over my form again. My cock stiffened at the way her sexy eyes fucked my body before they landed back on my face.
I chuckled, glancing to the side briefly before walking into the sitting room, dropping down on the sofa beside her. I placed my knuckles on the sofa and push her body backward with mine until her back hit the couch. Her full, perky tits pressed up against my chest and I circled my hips into her groin, slowly but forcefully.
Dropping my face to her ear, I ran my nose over the curve. “I wouldn’t play games if I were you. Wanna know why?”
Her little frame wiggled underneath me, and then suddenly her legs widened and my cock pushed against her entrance that was covered by the little skirt she was wearing tonight. The little skirt I wanted to rip off, and then bang my chest like a caveman whenever her tight little ass walked past me. Fucking cock tease.
“Why?” Her voice came out raspy, and goddamn, it was sexy. I needed to fuck this girl and get her out of my damn system; she was fucking with my head too much.
Dropping my head to her collarbone, I drew my tongue out and ran it across the perfect line that ran from her neck to her shoulder. “Because I’m the gamekeeper, baby, and you are my pawn.” I circled my hips into her again and her head dug into the sofa. I groaned, running my tongue back up her neck before biting down on her ear. Bringing my face back up, I propped myself on my elbows and watched as her focus came back and her bright green eyes peeled open. A haze of sex dripped from those emerald beauties, and I was a hair away from ripping those panties off and shoving my cock so deep into that sweet, tight cunt I’ll have us both legless for days.
“Go. To. Bed,” I demanded, keeping my eyes locked on hers.
“What?” she blurted, pushing herself up onto her elbows. I pulled back, readjusting what I’m pretty sure is the hardest boner I’d ever had. Jesus.
“Go to bed, Bryleigh. You still wanna fuck in the morning, I’m all for it, but I’m not having you wake up in the morning with a ton of regret. I don’t have time for it.”
“Okay,” she answered. “You can sleep on the couch.”
“Definitely fucking not,” I scoffed, standing from the couch and fishing out my keys.
“What?” she squawked, putting her hands on her hips.
“Fuck that. I’ll be back in the morning. I’ll even bring bagels.”
“You’re not staying?” she asked, shocked. I had to hold back a laugh. Except I couldn’t hold back shit and I ended up chuckling under my breath.
“Why the fuck would I do that? No, I don’t stay with anyone. I’ll be back in the morning. Give me your phone.”
She turned around, walking toward her bed and picking up her phone, handing it to me. I took it, sliding it open, and typed my number in the
re quickly before texting my phone so I had her number.
“I’ll text you in the morning. Go to bed.”
Then I spun around and walked the fuck out of there before I fucked the alcohol out of her system.
Jesus, what the ever loving hell was that about? I was still standing stock-still in the position he’d left me in. Clutching my phone in my hand, I walked to my bed and pulled the covers back before climbing in and plugging my phone into the charger. A notification dinged while it was in my hand, and I opened the message.
Indie: u get home ok?
Me: yeah, where r u?
Indie: with Matty. ;)
Me: of course u r.
Indie: did he do the deed?
I rolled my eyes and set my phone on the bedside table. I wasn’t answering that. She’d just laugh at me anyway. Anyone decent could lay Ryker Oakley flat on his back, but no, not me, obviously. He decided to have morals tonight, just my luck. His words lingered in my head, swimming around in big bold letters.
“You still wanna fuck tomorrow, I’m all for it.”
For some reason, I knew deep down that even when tomorrow came, I was still going to be riding with this V-card, even though the performance on the couch earlier only proved he’d be perfect.
My eyes peeled open to the annoying ringtone blaring from my phone. “Fuck.” I flipped it open and pressed it to my ear.
“Indie, I swear to God…”
“Not Indie. Are you up?”
“No, I’m sleeptalking.” I couldn’t hide the sarcasm.
Silence from Ryker.
“I’ll be there in five.” Then he hung up. I looked at the phone in my hand, flipping it the bird before throwing it across the room. Rubbing my hands over my face angrily, I screamed out in frustration before swinging my legs over the bed. My head was pounding and my legs were aching, a strong reminder of my loose mouth last night.
“Jesus,” I whispered. I told him to fuck me like a whore. There’s something wrong with me. “Five minutes.” I looked down at my loose gray track pants and my sports bra that I threw on last night. Yup, definitely had way too much to drink. Who wears this to bed? There was a knock on the door, and my body jolted in shock. I didn’t really care that he’d be seeing me in these clothes; what he witnessed last night was even more tragic, but yet, he was still bringing me bagels.
“I’m coming,” I yelled, and then winced at my own voice. Taking a step out and making my way to the sliding glass door that opened out to the pool, I yanked the curtain open and scowled while popping up the lock.
Sliding it open, my eyebrows knitted together. “You said five minutes, Ryker. It’s only been three.” He was wearing lose dark jeans and a gray shirt, with a leather jacket over the top. He looked edible and smelled even better.
He shrugged, shoving the bag of bagels at me. “Eat.”
I stepped aside to let him in, closing the door. He turned around and smirked at me. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks,” I deadpanned. “I need a shower. Make yourself at home.”
His eyes narrowed on me, and I squirmed internally while keeping my shoulders squared. There was no way I was letting this cocky prick think those baby blues affected me. Nope, I’d die before I let that happen.
“What?” I asked, reaching for a bagel and biting into the warm bundle of carbs.
He shook his head. “Go take your shower. Then, you can come with me to practice.”
“Practice?” I asked, placing the bagel back into the bag and folding my arms in front of me. “I don’t want to watch a fight.”
“Band practice, Bryleigh.”
“Oh.” My eyebrows shot up. I loosened my arms. “Why?”
“Because I’m not done with babysitting.”
“Yeah, you are,” I scoffed, walking toward the coffee table and placing the bagels down.
He shook his head, walking up to me slowly before stopping. “I’m really, really not.” His grin spread wide enough to show his straight, annoyingly pearly white teeth and deep dimples.
I scowled.
His grin dropped. “What the fuck? Why are you frowning?”
“Because,” I moaned, turning in my step and walking toward the closet to get out a towel. “It’s not fair that someone so good-looking could be this cocky. Before you get a fat head, that wasn’t a compliment. I think a lot of guys are good-looking.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, eyebrow raised, and dropped onto the sofa. “Who else do you think is hot?”
This was a challenge.
“I’m not doing this. Wait here, I’m taking a shower.”
She shut the bathroom door behind herself and I smiled, contemplating my options here. It was obvious she wanted it as much as I did. If I fucked her, it could get her out of my system. Or, I could play with her… drag it out a little longer. I think I preferred the latter. Only, I forgot one thing. I was teasing myself too, because at this moment, I wanted nothing more than to sink balls deep into this chick.
Walking toward the bathroom, steam started drifting out from under the door and I smiled when I heard her singing along to Guns N’ Roses’ “Don’t Cry,” and holy fucking shit, the girl could sing. I paused, standing there, listening to her husky voice sing softly. My eyebrows drew together and a smile pulled at my mouth. Fuck, if that wasn’t the sexiest voice I’d ever heard. There was definitely more to Bryleigh Monroe than meets the eye, and I planned on exploring every. Little. Inch of her. I knew she wouldn’t want me barging in there, dropping to my knees, and running my tongue all over that smoking, tight little body of hers, and for once, I don’t listen to what my cock wants. Yeah, I’m a pussy, and I’m pretty sure my man card should be revoked, but I needed to remind myself that this chick was a virgin. She’d say she wanted to be fucked raw, but I doubted that.
Boy, was I wrong. This chick was trouble.
***
Pulling up to our house that sat on the outskirts of the hills, Bryleigh shuffled nervously in her seat.
“What?” I asked her.
She shook her head, her long, caramel hair falling over her shoulders in natural waves. “Nothing.”
I pulled up the emergency brake before we both stepped out of the car. Tommy was going hard on the drums with Soulja Boy’s “Crank That: Travis Barker Remix,” shaking the walls of my garage that sat to the left of the house.
We lived with my aunt, who did pretty well for herself. She was a judge, and one of the best in the San Diego area. She took Ryder and me in when my parents walked out on us when we were five. They basically left a note on the table for my aunt, who was picking us up to take us to school—like she did every day, because my parents were too busy finding an easy way to get money to support their gambling problem.
The day they walked out was the best day of our lives. My aunt had been trying to find ways that she could take us legally, but always ran into problems. Parents overruled everything, and unless she could find proof they weren’t caring for us properly, she couldn’t do much. Apparently, being hungry and neglected didn’t fall into that category. If that happened now though, she would have all the right connections to be able to pull us out as quickly as snapping her fingers. But anyway, our life had been smooth sailing from there. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for my aunt. She was both Ryder’s and my everything.
I shut the door and nudged my head toward the garage. “Come on, Princess.”
Her mouth stilled, and I smirked, knowing full well how much it pissed her off when I called her that. She pushed forward and followed me toward the garage anyway. Walking in, Tommy nudged his head to her with a smirk. “S’up, you still on lockdown?” he asked her, looking at me with a chuckle.
She nodded. “Looks like it. I’ve never seen you guys play before,” she admitted, looking around the vast size of the garage. It could be a house; it was that big. It had a huge, heavy wooden door that slid open onto an area where all our instruments were. My aunt had it built just for us. I tried to get her to agree
to build me an octagon ring too, but that shit wasn’t happening.
Tommy shrugged. “It’s no biggie. I was just messing around.”
She nodded with a smile, her head tilting slightly to the side, her eyes dancing over Tommy.
Nope, that’s not happening either.
“Bry!” I scowled at her.
She spun around with mock innocence on her face. “Hmm?”
Fuck, I forgot that this chick was on a mission to punch that V-card.
I shook my head with my eyebrows drawn together.
“Hey, can you guys play Disturbed?” she asked, walking toward one of the chairs that sat to the side. Flat out ignoring me. Fucking hell, what the fuck had I gotten myself into?
Tommy nodded. “Hell yeah, you like Disturbed?”
She nodded shyly, her cheeks heating. “I do. Can you play “Inside The Fire”?”
Tommy’s face lit up like the Fourth of July and I rolled my eyes, getting pissed off with these two throwing banter around. It’s true, Tommy is a loveable guy. All broad bad boy with the added charm. But he ain’t getting this one.
“We’ll play it tonight,” Tommy answered, winking at her.
I’ll beat his ass later.
A car pulled up behind us. Both Leo and Becca stepped out, with Ryder close behind them.
Becca stopped, looking at Bryleigh then to me. A big smile pulled on her mouth and I shook my head, mouthing, Shut the fuck up, at her, but she waved my comment away anyway, unlatching herself from Leo and walking toward Bryleigh.
“Hey! I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, sitting down on the sofa we had in the garage, next to Bryleigh’s chair.
“Yeah, I didn’t expect to be here either. I’m just going with it, I think.”
Becca laughed, wrapping her arm around Bryleigh’s shoulders. “Oh, you and I are going to have heaps of fun,” she answered, with a cocky grin aimed right at me.
Fuck me, these two together could be too much—even for me to handle.
“Leo!” I shouted, and Leo looked up from rolling a joint.
