Barbie Bitch (Rejects Paradise 3)

I walk into the kitchen to find Charlie and Colton hovering over the coffee machine, very impatiently waiting for their caffeine hit by pressing every button on the machine and getting aggravated at the poor thing.

“Hey, you,” I say to Charlie as I stride past him, leaning between the boys and grabbing the power cord for the coffee machine and plugging it into the wall with an amused smirk. “Where the hell have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Both of the boys studiously ignore the fact that neither of them was smart enough to check that the machine was plugged in and get busy actually turning it on. Charlie leans against the counter and gives me a beaming smile. “I figure since Colton here is too fucking lazy to step out of his big ass mansion these days, you could use a lift to school.”

“Well, well,” I say, watching Colton roll his eyes at his friend’s comments. “Wouldn’t that be a treat.”

Colton gives me a blank stare. “You realize that there’s at least thirty … no, twenty cars in the garage that I’d allow you to drive. You don’t need to keep getting lifts every day.”

I narrow my eyes at my irritatingly sexy boyfriend. “Why can’t I drive all of them? You know, I don’t think I’ve really gotten the feel for the Veneno. I could take that one to school.”

Colton shakes his head as Charlie howls with laughter. “Over my dead fucking body. After you stole it and took it for a girls’ day at the hair salon, I won’t even let you breathe near it.”

“That’s okay,” I laugh. “You’ve got to sleep at some point and when you do, when you least expect it, I’m going to take them all. I might invite the Widows over and we can figure out which one of your babies goes the fastest.”

He shakes his head as Charlie grabs a bagel off the counter and begins slathering it with cream cheese. “Careful, Jade. Keep making threats like that and I'll have to tie you up for real.”

Charlie’s brows shoot up into his hairline. “Wait … why does it sound like you’ve done it before?” My eyes flick to Colton’s wide and panicked as I recall sneaking down from the library at 1 am this morning after finally putting my book down and having him do just that. “You have, haven’t you? Fuck, I didn’t realize I was in the midst of two kinky fuckers. Damnnnn.”

I bite down on my lip, desperately trying not to react. With a guy like Charlie, if you give him an inch, he won’t just take a mile, he’ll run with it until there’s nothing left to take. All while keeping that cheesy as fuck grin on his devastatingly handsome face.

Colton scoffs. “Please, I’ve heard your stories, man. Tying a chick up and fucking her until she screams is nothing new for you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a whole closet full of dirty little secrets.”

“Well, damn, Charlie. Maybe I’m with the wrong guy.”

Charlie laughs as Colton grabs me and slams me against the counter, keeping me pinned with his hard body. “Really?” he murmurs, looking at me with those mesmerizing eyes and sending the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive.

“I mean, um … what were we talking about again?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he tells me, easing up on my body and allowing just enough space to take my waist and lift me onto the counter. “You sit tight. I’m going to make you breakfast.”

My brows shoot up as Charlie scrunches his face in distaste. “Bro, come on, don’t be stupid. You can’t cook for shit. Know your limits and stay there. There’s no need to try and impress her with skills you don’t have.”

Colton ignores his friend and starts digging through the cupboards. “I didn’t say anything about cooking,” he says, pulling out a bowl and then showing off the wide range of cereals. He gives me a stupid grin and waves his hand in front of them. “Your wish is my command.”

I roll my eyes and jump down from the counter. “Get out of the way,” I tell him, barging my way into the pantry. “Let me make you guys a proper breakfast.”

“Fuck yeah,” Charlie grunts. “I knew there was a reason I came here.”

The boys fuck around, talking about who the hell knows what, and within twenty minutes, I’m serving up the best-looking bacon and egg rolls that I’ve ever seen. We’re just about to start digging in when I hear the familiar click of heels against marble and I prepare myself for the worst.

“Colton.” Comes a shrill call from outside the kitchen. “Where are you?”

Colton’s whole demeanor drops at the sound of his mother's call. “Kitchen,” he grumbles, his eyes flashing to mine with an apology, knowing damn well that every time we’re in a room together, it never turns out well. Though, hopefully, by now that cow has figured out that she can't beat me.