Pretend You're Mine (Inked Hearts 3)

His lips curl into a smile. He holds out his arm. Motions come here.

My knees knock together.

Lightness spreads into my chest, neck, head. I'm dizzy. Like I'm going to faint.

Who knew swooning was a real thing? I thought Gia made it up.

My feet move of their own accord.

My combat boots sink into the plush carpet.

My hands slip from my pockets.

One finds his palm.

He wraps his fingers around my hand. Rubs the space between my thumb and forefinger with his thumb.

He looks down at me—he has to, he has a foot on me—like I'm the only thing he needs.

Like I'm everything he needs.

His voice is soft. Sweet. "Nice of you to join, sunshine."

The nickname breaks my trance.

Dean doesn't need me. He needs to push my buttons.

Gia insists he's teasing because he likes me, but what does Gia know about guys like Dean? She met her boyfriend at a comics shop. They read Spider-Man and play video games together.

Gia doesn't know Dean, but I do.

With him, you have to bite back.

I shoot him my best fuck you smile. "Nice to see you, Dick Face."

He chuckles. "You know I take that as a compliment."

I shrug do you? People mill closer. Take seats on the couch, at the table, on the ground.

"If you'd seen my dick, you'd know why." He steps forward to let someone pass. His hand brushes my arm. His chest brushes my shoulder. His crotch brushes my outer thigh.

My body responds with gusto.

Any sense of calm, of upper hand, of any hand, dissipates.

My body goes into overdrive. Every molecule screams the same thing: more Dean please.

A jock's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Damn, Maddox. Stop bragging. We're playing a game here." He pats a spot on the the packed couch. It's all designer jeans and BCBG dresses and pretty girls in hot guy's laps.

I take a step backwards, but there's nowhere to go. My ass hits the glass table.

Dean turns to his friend. "Should I whip it out instead?"

A girl sitting on the couch claps with glee. "Hell yeah!"

The five girls sitting on the ground clap with her.

"There's a demand." Dean shrugs, effortless. He reaches for his jeans. Pretends to undo his button. "I can't let my fans down."