Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(37)

It was so f*cking hot, f*cking her out in the open where anyone could find them. She was always so f*cking hot, just letting him take and take and take from her, from her mouth and her body, from her sweet *, he took it all, he took everything, chewed it up, spit it back out, and then took her all over again.

He. Took. It. All.

He wasn’t giving it back.

Danny was his.

Now he just had to figure out how he was going to convince her father of that.

? ? ?

“Stop looking at me like that,” I whispered, feeling flustered and blushing as I yanked my skirt down.

Ripper, who hadn’t had to right his clothing because he hadn’t had to do much except unbutton his pants, was grinning down at me, watching me try to re-assemble myself.

“Shirt’s on inside out.” He laughed. “Musta been from the pantry.”

I looked down and, damn it, my tank top was on inside out. Embarrassed, I closed my eyes, thinking about everyone who’d seen me after I’d left the kitchen. Did they know? Had it been obvious what I’d been doing? Had I waited long enough after Ripper had left the kitchen? I didn’t know. Who knew how long Eva and Dorothy had been standing out there.

“Ripper.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin but Ripper, upon hearing his name, had gone still, his smile slipping off his face. It took him all of a second to steel his expression and then he was turning around and facing Hawk.

“Yeah?”

Hawk’s narrowed eyes landed on me and I swallowed hard. How was one supposed to look nonchalant when they felt like anything but?

“What’s up?” Hawk asked warily, glancing between the two of us.

Pulling his cigarettes from his cut, Ripper lit one up and shrugged. “Not a whole f*ck of a lot. You?”

Hawk flexed his jaw, his hard stare now on Ripper.

He knew.

He so knew.

“Just hopin’ you know what you’re doin’, brother.”

Ripper’s fist clenched around his lit cigarette. Ash and tobacco fell through his fingers, drifting down to his feet. I stared at his hand, in shock that he didn’t seem to care that he was purposely burning himself.

“How’s D doin’?” Ripper gritted out. “Good? Or is she still throwin’ dishes at your head?”

My head shot up. D? And throwing dishes? What did Dorothy or dishes have to do with anything?

Hawk’s response was nearly imperceptible, just a small flinch, a twitch really and an extra blink, something I wouldn’t have even noticed if I hadn’t been staring directly at his face. Something was going on, something involving Dorothy and Hawk.

The two men said nothing as they continued to stare at each other.

Then Hawk gave a slight nod. “Fair enough,” he said gruffly. “Ain’t none of my business anyways.”

As Hawk walked off, Ripper turned to me. “Go to your room, baby. I got this shit.”

I did as he said, nervous yet confident that Ripper knew what he was talking about, and called Anabeth.

She answered after three rings. “Are you still on lockdown?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah.”

“So, what’s up?”

“I need a favor.”

“A sexual favor?”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”

“Well, what then?” she asked, sounding bored.

“After lockdown, I want to spend a few days at Ripper’s. Will you cover for me?”

“Actually,” she said, snapping her gum. “If it’s next week, it works out perfectly. It’s the annual fam’ trip to the Poconos.”

I grinned. That was perfect. Anabeth would be gone for an entire week, which meant for that entire week I could be alone with Ripper. Alone.

Envisioning all the things we could do while alone, without worry of being caught, my stomach flip-flopped.

“Thank you,” I said, unable to keep excitement from bleeding into my voice.

Her gum snapped. “I want something in return.”

I made a face. “What?”

“I want to know how big Ripper is.”

“Anabeth,” I said, exasperated. “Why do you even care?”

“Because,” she said pointedly. “If you ever get sick of big, scarred, and sexy, I want to know if he’s worth my time.”

Just thinking about Ripper with another woman, let alone one of my closest friends, made me sick to my stomach. But as much as I wanted to tell her to go to hell, I knew she wouldn’t let up.

“He’s big,” I admitted. “But I don’t have much to compare him to.”

“I want inches and circumference,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

“Oh my god, Anabeth, seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Fine.” I sighed. “He’s, um, like as long as…” I trailed off, looking around my room, trying to find something to compare Ripper’s penis to. “The DVR remote. Or, almost as long,” I finished, picking the remote up off my bed and studying it.

“Mmmm,” Anabeth murmured. “Nice. What about girth? When you hold it, do your fingers overlap?”

“Oh. My. God.” I groaned. “I hate you. No, they don’t overlap, they don’t even touch.”