Tell Me Pretty Lies(42)
Thayer’s throat bobs when he swallows, and he loses the fight to keep his gaze from falling to my chest. The cold air has my nipples tightening almost painfully as I watch his hungry eyes roam my body.
I hear the door slam downstairs, and I know I have less than a minute to wrap this up before they come barging in.
“It seems to me that you’re the one getting the short end of the stick in this scenario.” I try to snatch the shorts from his grip, but he holds them out of reach, high above his head. I lunge for them and his free arm bands around my waist, spinning me around before he tackles me to the bed. He settles in between my legs, his chest against mine.
“First of all,” he starts, pushing his groin into me. “Who’s to say my needs aren’t being met by someone else?”
I practically growl, shoving him away, but he pins my arms above my head. “Second, you’re going to pay for that later.”
My chest heaves as he holds my gaze, his mouth lowering to place a gentle kiss on the tip of my nipple. I shiver, feeling wetness pool between my legs, but two sets of footsteps on the stairs hit me like a bucket of cold water. Thayer smirks knowingly before he pushes off me, then he’s throwing my clothes at me. I catch them as they land on my chest and scowl up at him.
“Get dressed and meet us in the poolroom.”
Just as his doorknob turns, he blocks their entrance and steps out, shutting the door behind him.
I groan, swiping the clothes from my chest. How the hell does he always win?
Thayer
I adjust my jeans, trying to conceal my dick that’s trying to burst through my zipper. Fuck. I’m losing control. The lines are starting to blur, and I’m getting sloppy. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking bringing her up to my room in front of everyone, fueling the rumors that have surrounded Shayne since she moved in with us, but it’s getting harder to stay away from her. It’s like a compulsion. Getting under her skin, igniting that temper, feeling her hot little breaths on my skin when I make her come. It’s an addiction. A sick, toxic addiction.
I tell myself that there’s no harm in touching her, as long as I don’t let it go any further than that, but even I know I’m playing a dangerous game. Being with Shayne is a slippery slope, and it’s impossible to not want more.
She’s changed, too. She’s always been a good girl at her core, but the side of her she keeps locked up tight, the little spitfire that only I was able to catch glimpses of before, is clawing its way to the surface. And that stunt she just pulled? I didn’t see that coming. When she walked in, dripping wet, face free of makeup, I wanted to push up her towel, bend her over, and slide into her from behind. And when she dropped her towel, her long, blonde hair curving around her perky tits, the tiny metal bars through her nipples, I almost did just that. It took the restraint of a thousand saints not to fuck her right then and there.
“What’s all this about?” Holden asks from his place on the couch. Christian sits on the loveseat, while I stand in front of the TV that stretches across the wall of the billiard room, arms crossed over my chest.
“I want answers, and so does she. But before she gets down here… Someone’s fucking with Shayne. Was it either one of you?” They both shake their heads.
“I told you, man. It wasn’t me. My money’s on Taylor. She’s always had it out for Shayne, even when they were friends,” he says, using air quotes. It’s true. Taylor doesn’t play nice with others, but she didn’t really have a choice before. Being with us offered a certain amount of protection. It made Shayne untouchable. Off limits. Taylor seems to think fucking with Shayne is fair game now that our parents split, and I’m betting that school of thought isn’t limited to Taylor.
“It’s just mean girl shit. I put her in check tonight, so she won’t be a problem,” Holden says dismissively.
I rake a hand through my hair, nodding. It makes sense, but something tells me that there’s more to it.
“What’s up with you two? You suddenly give a shit again?” This comes from Christian. I can’t say I blame him for not understanding when I can’t make sense of it myself.
Before I can answer, Shayne clears her throat, standing in the doorway. Her wet hair falls over one shoulder, my t-shirt hanging almost down to her knees, giving her the illusion of being naked underneath.
“Hey.” She gives an awkward wave.
Holden pats the cushion next to him. “Come sit, baby sister.”
She cuts him a look, but doesn’t comment as she pads across the room, arms folded over her chest, still distrustful. I can tell that being here again makes her uncomfortable by her body language alone. She takes a seat on the opposite side of the couch, leaving a healthy distance between her and Holden, taking up as little space as possible.
“Why am I here?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Christian says.
“Bro, what the fuck,” Holden chimes in.
“No, it’s fine. He’s the only one who’s making any sense to me,” Shayne says.
“You want answers. So do we.”
“So let’s get this shit out on the table then,” Holden suggests, slouching back against the couch and kicking his feet up onto the table in front of him.
“Okay,” Shayne drawls, skepticism lacing her tone as she looks at me. “Why did you tell Holden to get close to me?”