“Oh, you mean Thayer? Probably doing the same thing as me, with any luck.” His smile is wide, but his eyes betray him. He’s testing me, watching for a reaction. And maybe even trying to hurt me.
He holds my gaze, but I break contact, shaking my head, disappointed, then turn to leave without another word. If it were any other day, I would’ve told him to fuck off. If it were any other day, I’d say screw all of these Ames boys. But tonight, they’re grieving. Tonight, they don’t have anyone looking out for them—evidently, not even each other. Christian’s being secretly abused by his father, Holden’s self-medicating with booze and threesomes, and Thayer’s most likely self-destructing, God knows where.
These brooding assholes in peacoats are going to be the death of me.
Thayer
I couldn’t take another fucking second. I couldn’t sit there while my dad played the part of the grieving father of the golden boy, reducing Danny’s entire life to a collection of accomplishments. As if he was merely an extension of my father, and not his own person. Fake. Every goddamn thing about that bullshit ceremony was fake, right down to the people who cried for him.
Except Shayne.
The look on her face reflected everything I was feeling inside, and seeing her cry tonight did something to me. It’s confusing as fuck to want to protect and punish someone at the same time, but I couldn’t do either one, even if I wanted to. All I could do was sit there on display, like a fucking lion in a zoo.
“Thayer?” Shayne’s voice calls out for me. I should’ve known she’d find me. Might even be the reason I subconsciously chose this place. But I’m too raw, too fucked up to be around her right now. I stand with my head bowed, hands braced in the back of the old leather couch I commandeered for the barn when I started coming here a few years back.
She walks up next to me, and I feel her warmth against my side, but I don’t lift my gaze.
“I thought you could use a friend.”
“I don’t want to be your fucking friend,” I snap.
“Then what do you want?” she whispers.
“What do I want?” I repeat, swiveling my head to look up at her. “What I want is for you to leave.”
“Why?” she grits out through clenched teeth.
“Because even as you stand there with tears in your eyes, all I want to do is bend you over and fuck you until I don’t feel anything other than your tight ass pussy squeezing my dick. So, unless you want to finish what we started in this barn a year ago, I suggest you leave.”
I fully expect her to walk away. Maybe even cry. What I don’t expect is for her to push up on the tips of her toes, bringing those full pink lips to my ear.
“Then do it,” Shayne dares, her tits pressing into me.
I give a bitter laugh, taking a step back. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you couldn’t handle it.”
“Try me,” she says, lifting her chin defiantly.
I clench my jaw so tight I’m surprised my teeth don’t crack under the pressure. I’m trying to do the right thing, but my willpower is fading fast. If she wants to play this game, I won’t be the one to back down. I drop down onto the couch, bringing my hands behind my head as if I’m a paying customer.
“Take off your clothes.”
Once again, she does the unexpected. Her hands shake as she unzips her jacket, then lets it fall to the floor. Her white t-shirt is next, revealing two black, mesh triangles that do nothing to hide the perfect tits underneath. Those piercings I love so much are visible through the fabric, making my dick even harder. The old Shayne was so concerned with what other people thought that she wasn’t true to herself. The piercings, the black polish on the tips of her fingers, her smart mouth…all proof that she’s running out of fucks to give. And I’ve never wanted her more.
She swallows hard, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her pants before pushing them down her legs and kicking off her shoes. She steps forward in only her bra and matching underwear, away from the pile of discarded clothes. She’s almost close enough to touch. I bite down on my bottom lip, my eyes roaming her sweet little body as she lifts one hand to pull out her hair tie, thick blonde hair falling down around her shoulders. It takes every ounce of self-control to keep my hands behind my head.
Shayne nudges my knee with hers, waiting for further instruction.
“All of it.”
She glares at me, even as she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, one hand holding it to her chest. For a second, I think she’s going to forfeit this dangerous game we’re playing, but then her hand falls away, letting her bra drop to the floor between us.
Fuck. I slide a hand down to squeeze my dick through my pants and Shayne smirks, knowing she’s winning. Her underwear is the last to go, then she’s taking another small step toward me, completely naked now. I finally break, my hands shooting out to grip the back of her thighs. I pull her to my face as I spread her legs from behind. Shayne gasps, her hands flying out to clutch my head for balance as I part her lower lips with my tongue and her gasp turns into a moan as I take one long lick. Her knees almost buckle, but I hold her steady, sucking her clit into my mouth.
“No,” she breathes, tugging me back by my hair. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, cocking my head to the side in question. She can’t be stopping this now.