Not a Role Model (Battle Crows MC 4)

Then the sharp pop of a towel on my ass had me jolting hard.

I flinched and poked myself in the eye with the wand of mascara and cried out.

“Goddammit, Roll Tide,” I grumbled. “What in the absolute fuck?”

CHAPTER 17

Shenanigans—because life is more fun when you’re up to something.

-Coreline to Tide

TIDE

I grinned unrepentantly at the beautiful girl in front of me, twirling the towel up in my hand all over again.

My eyes lingered on her ass for a few long seconds, unable to help myself, before I returned my gaze toward her face.

She had one eye shut and she was glaring at me with the use of the other eye.

“Sorry,” I said. “I thought you heard me. I wasn’t being quiet when I came in here.”

She scoffed. “This house is old. I’m used to ignoring all the creaks and cracks.”

“Your house isn’t any older than mine, and it doesn’t make any of those sounds,” I countered.

She shrugged and went back to caking on the mascara on her eyelashes.

“Your eyes look weird when you put too much on,” I lied.

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “And your dick looks weird when you stuff it into those tight tights that you wear to run in, yet you don’t see me saying that.”

My lips twitched. “Those are compression shorts, not tights. And they’re supposed to suck everything in, even my dick.”

She shrugged. “Still.”

She eyed me skeptically. “Are you seriously wearing that to go to this soccer game in?”

I eyed her. “Yes. If I’m riding my bike, I’m wearing something that covers more…” I hesitated. “You’re not wearing that, are you?”

Her shoulders straightened and she eyed me with annoyance. “What does that mean?”

I knew what she thought. She thought that she didn’t look good in the clothes she’d picked out, and thought I worded it so that I wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

I hadn’t.

I truly didn’t want her to wear what she was wearing due to the fact that we would be on my bike, and she wouldn’t be getting on it with anything less than a pair of jeans on.

“It means you’re not wearing those shorts and getting on my bike to go to Quitman without putting some more clothes on,” I told her.

She narrowed her eyes. “Is it because they’re too short?”

I thought about lying to her and telling her yes, but in the end, I went with the truth.

“No,” I said carefully. “It’s because people are dumb, and they don’t see bikes like they see cars. And I don’t want to chance hurting those pretty little legs because I want them wrapped around me later on.”

She rolled her eyes, then went and pulled her toothbrush out and brushed her teeth.

She was one of ‘those’ people.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked, foam running down her face to drip onto the faucet and into the sink.

I curled my lip in disgust.

“Because you’re disgusting,” I told her bluntly.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”

My brows rose in amusement. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked. “One of those people that keeps all that grossness in their mouth while you brush.”

My lips quirked up in amusement. “That’s generally how normal people brush their teeth.”

“No, it’s not,” she disagreed. “It is not normal to hold shit in your mouth.”

The idea of her holding or having anything in her mouth was starting to turn me on.

Something in which she noticed when her eyes swept down the length of my body using the mirror.

“You’re disgusting. Your mind went there.” She rolled her eyes.

“Went where?” I wondered.

I mean, my mind went to sex a lot. But it made me curious what she was thinking, because a lot of the time it wasn’t anything near what I was thinking.

“You’re thinking of what I would look like with your cum pooling in my mouth, aren’t you?” she accused.

I felt my lip quirk up in amusement. “Well, no. I wasn’t. But now I am.”

She tilted her head. “If you weren’t thinking about that.” She bent forward and spit all over the sink. Then washed her face off before half-assed cleaning the sink and the faucet. “Then what were you thinking about?”

She moved to the towel by the door, and I walked over to the sink and cleaned up what she missed as I said, “I was thinking about what your mouth would look like filled with my cock.” I snatched the small hand towel out of her hand and cleaned up the rest of the mess before hanging it back up. “But now I’m definitely liking your kinky side and want to try that as well.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no. Over my dead body.”

“Does death by orgasm count as a ‘dead body?’” I wondered.

She rolled her eyes just as her phone rang.