Bad Habit (Bad Love 1)

Anyone in their right mind would be afraid, but Adrian literally laughs him off.

“I mean, we can share. It’s not gay if your balls don’t touch!” Adrian yells, sending a wink in my direction.

Turning his attention to me, Asher grabs me by my bicep and drags me toward the other side of the boat.

“You’re coming with me. Say whatever the fuck you have to say to your brother.”

“Why should I?”

“Don’t fucking play with me right now, Briar,” he says roughly, snatching up a life vest and smacking it to my chest. “You’re going to pay for that little show.”

Asher

I’m going to kill Adrian’s bitch ass. I know exactly what he was trying to do. But I also know that he wouldn’t pass up the chance to hook up with Briar if it came down to it, either. And what the fuck was she thinking, letting him put his hands on her? His lips on her?

After making up some excuse about needing to get back home, Dash hugged his sister and thanked me for offering to help her. I’m a piece of shit, but ask me if I care right now.

She was wearing my shirt this morning. Just my shirt. She kept it. When I saw her standing there with her back to me, bare legs and messy hair, I wished things were different. I wished I wasn’t a fucking lowlife scumbag and that she wasn’t the girl who purposely fucked me over because her pride was wounded.

Nothing makes sense. I was about to ask her why she did it, once and for all, if only to keep from crushing my lips to hers, but then fucking Whitley walked in.

I didn’t invite her. Fuck that. If there’s a party, or anything even resembling one, Whitley will find out about it. My guess is that one of the other guys who still risks his life by putting his dick inside her tipped her off. I know she still tries to talk to Dash, but he shut that shit down a long time ago. And if Dash won’t touch her, that automatically excludes Adrian, seeing as how they like to share.

I’ll admit that I’ve fucked her in the past, but it was never a relationship. We were just two lonely, miserable people who used each other. I used her for coke, and she used me for sex. She knew the drill. It’s not like I could sleep with my best friend’s fourteen-year-old sister, so I didn’t really care.

I let Briar think that I invited her. Maybe it was payback for having to see her with Jackson. Maybe it was my way of getting her to hate me so I wouldn’t be tempted to forget her transgressions and make her mine. Maybe I’m just an asshole.

I step o

nto the Jet Ski and hold out my hand to help Bry on behind me, but she doesn’t take it.

“Where’s yours?” she questions.

“My what?”

“Your life jacket. It’s illegal to be on that thing without one,” she says, arms crossed.

A devious smirk spreads across my face. “You’re stalling, baby girl.”

She takes a fortifying breath before taking my hand and cautiously stepping down. Once she’s on, her thighs hug mine, and I can feel the heat of her pussy on my back.

This was a bad fucking idea.

I spot the key hanging off the handlebar, and I start it up, ignoring Whitley’s shrill protests from the boat. The ride back to shore does little to calm my anger. If anything, I’m only getting more pissed off by the minute.

Briar’s only five feet tall, but the girl is all legs. And right now, those thighs have me in a vise grip as she holds on to me for dear life. After hitting a rough wave that forces us even closer together, she finally wraps her timid arms around my stomach. I’m hard from her touch alone. I feel her tuck into me, her forehead hitting the top of my spine—probably to shield her face from the wind—and her long, blonde hair whips in my face.

We hit another wave, and instinctively, my left hand shoots out to grip her thigh. But I don’t remove it. Not even when we’re in the no-wake zone.

Once we reach the shore, I yank the key out while she takes off her vest, exposing those perky tits covered by thin scraps of white triangles. Fuck, she looks good. I bend down and lift her around the waist, and even though she squeals, her legs immediately lock around me.

“Put me down!”

“Shut up.”

She tries to wriggle down my body, but all she does is make my dick harder, and the moment she feels it, she freezes. I laugh darkly at her wide eyes.

Once we’re to my truck, I lay her down in the bed of it, on top of an old quilt I keep back here to prevent tools from scratching the paint.