Paper Princess (The Royals #1)(48)

“I’m pretty sure you’d be all over anyone in the state you’re in,” I remark.

Easton’s hands run up my sides, skimming over my dress and settling on the bare skin exposed by the cut outs. “I’ve got a few standards. Not many but a few.”

“Glad I make the cut,” I say dryly.

He tugs me closer but surprisingly his hands don’t wander. I twine my arms around his neck and wonder what game we’re playing now.

“You put on a good show. I would’ve liked to have seen you strip.”

“You go first and maybe, if you’re good enough, I’ll return the favor.”

His eyes fill with glee. He loves the idea of a spectacle. “Little sis, I can’t show you my goods. I’m so fine, just the sight of me would ruin you for all other men.”

I laugh against my will. “You’re too much, Easton.”

“I am.” He nods solemnly. “It’s why I sleep around. Because no one girl can handle all of me.”

This declaration makes me roll my eyes. “If telling yourself that story makes you feel better, then have at it.”

“Oh I do, don’t worry.” He dips his head near mine and the wave of alcohol nearly knocks me off my feet.

“Jeez, you smell like a brewery.” I shove him a little to put some distance between us.

He smiles, but it isn’t pretty. “I’m an alcoholic, don’t you know? I’ve got addiction problems. I inherited those from my mommy just like your mom passed sluttiness down to you. Aren’t those grand gifts?”

If it wasn’t for the hurt in his eyes, I would’ve told him that I’d rather dress like a slut than drown in a bottle, but his pain is one I recognize, so instead of making some flippant comment in response, I drag his head to my shoulder.

“Oh Easton, I miss my mom, too,” I whisper into his sweat-dampened hair.

He shudders and clutches me tighter. His face turns into my neck and he presses his lips against a vein. It’s not really erotic. It’s more…he’s seeking comfort from someone who isn’t judging him.

Over his hunched frame, I spot a pair of blazing eyes.

Reed.

And I’m so tired of it. Easton may want to use me but I’m not against using him either.

We both want something…comfort, affection, a way to strike out at the world. I tug Easton’s head up.

“What is it?” he murmurs.

“Kiss me like you mean it,” I tell him.

His eyes darken and his tongue pokes out to run across his lower lip and it’s sexy as hell.

My gaze flicks over to Reed, who hasn’t stopped glowering. “Kiss me,” I repeat.

He lowers his head and whispers, “It doesn’t matter that you’re pretending I’m Reed. I’m pretending you’re someone else, too.”

His words become lost when his mouth hits mine. His lips are so warm. And his body, strong and firm, so much like his brother’s, presses against mine. I give myself over to it. We kiss and kiss and sway to the music until someone breaks us up and we’re dragged off the dance floor.

An unhappy bouncer crosses his arms. “No sex on the dance floor. Time to go.”

Easton throws his head back and laughs hysterically. The bouncer doesn’t crack and instead points to the exit. I look around but Reed has pulled his disappearing act.

“Where’s Reed?” I stupidly ask.

“Probably screwing Abby in the parking lot.”

Thankfully Easton’s distracted by a search for something in his pockets so he doesn’t see how much his words hurt. He finds what he was looking for and hands me a key fob.

“I’m too drunk to drive, sis.”

I track down Valerie, who says she’ll be able to get home by herself. She’s on her way up the stairs for another cage dance. Resigned, I take Easton outside. The alcohol must have caught up with him, because he leans heavily against me.

“Where’d you park?”

He points left. “There. No wait.” He shifts to his right. “There.”

I see his truck and we hobble over to it. Three spots down is Reed’s SUV. It’s…moving.

Easton spots the Rover, too, and slaps the hood. He lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “If the truck’s a rocking, don’t come a knocking.”

The knowledge of what might be going on in that SUV burns me all the way home. At least I don’t have to trade barbs with Easton, since he passes out about five minutes after we get rolling.

At the mansion, I help him out of the truck and up the stairs. He makes a turn into my bedroom and stumbles over to my bed, falling face down. After a couple of unsuccessful tries at moving him, I give up and go to the bathroom. By the time I get back, he’s snoring and drooling on my comforter.

I debate going to his room and sleeping in his bed, then decide I’ll just cover him up and sleep under the covers. I find an afghan and throw it over him. A yawn shakes my entire body as I pull off the scrap of fabric Val called a dress and let it drop to the floor. In just my undies, I crawl under the blankets and let sleep take over.



* * *



When I wake up, it’s to Reed’s angry face. I glance over to the side of the bed where Easton was, but he’s gone.

“I told you to stay away from my brothers,” Reed growls.