Dirty Princes (Hot Candy 3) - Page 130

“Sounds just like on TV,” I whisper, dispirited, glancing out the window.

“We’ll find him.” He reaches over, squeezes my leg. “You’ll see.”

I nod, looking out the window, taking the small comfort even if I’m not so sure I should be getting my hopes up. It’s been a while. The odds of Xavier turning up, alive and well, are dropping by the day.

“Meow,” someone says from the back.

Meow?

I turn around in my seat, looking back, glad for the distraction. “Was that… a cat?”

Brylee pats a plastic pink box. A pet carrier? “We needed to balance out the numbers.”

“Numbers?” I glance at Ryan. “Did you know about this?”

“Why, are you allergic to cats?” he asks.

I shrug. “Never had the chance to find out.”

“Now it’s two boys and two girls,” Brylee says.

Two pussies.

My hard-on returns at the thought, and I swallow a groan, leaning back in my seat and chewing on the inside of my cheek.

Not sure how this weekend will play out. So far nothing is going as I imagined—though not in a bad way—and we’re only half an hour in.

Christ.

And it keeps getting more interesting. As I’m half-dozing, the road ahead a blur, Ryan asks Brylee questions about her pussy.

At least that’s how it sounds like to my sleep-addled brain, and I force my eyes open, intrigued.

“How come you have a pussy named Fluff?”

“She’s fluffy. Lots of fluff.”

“Now, I thought women shave their pussies these days. How come yours isn’t?”

What. The. Fuck.

“Shave cats?” Brylee sounds horrified. “Is that a new fad? That’s so cruel.”

Oh. Damn.

“How would I know?” Ryan says, perfectly serious. “I don’t have a pussy. It’s not a man thing.”

“I know men who like them,” she says.

I shake my head and rub a hand over my face. “I’m a fan.”

Ryan snorts. “I’ll bet.”

“Hey, I’m an equal opportunities sort of guy. Pussies and—”

“And?” Brylee sticks her head between us, putting her hands on our arms, and I lose my train of thought. Her soft hair tickles my cheek, her small hand strokes down my arm, and I feel it through the layers of cloth. “What else, huh?”

She smirks at me, her eyes laughing. I can’t even… this girl.

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