Broken Juliet(51)

“Jesus Ass-Slapping Christ. Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Ethan hasn’t stopped looking at me, and I don’t think I could look away if I tried.

“Taylor? Care to comment?” Jack asks.

“Not really.” I’m too busy swallowing excess saliva.

“Don’t make me chant again. Just give Holt a number.”

“Out of ten?”

“Yeah.”

“For sex?”

“Yeah!”

Ethan raises one perfectly sexy eyebrow. I reward it with a smug smile.

“Ten.”

Avery’s jaw hits the floor. “Are you shitting me? Why does he get a ten?”

“Because that’s how many orgasms he gave me in one night.” The words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to be embarrassed.

Avery laughs. “No, really.”

“Really.”

His face falls, and he looks between us and blinks. Everyone is very quiet. Zoe is staring at Ethan like he’s the incarnation of a mythical sex god.

“Well, f*ck me. And you guys broke up, WHY?!”

It’s a good question. Sitting here knowing the myriad of things he seems to be thinking about doing to me, I have no good answer.




Before I even get to the party, I know he’s there. Every part of me is tingling in anticipation. I’ve waxed, shaved, and exfoliated so thoroughly, I feel frictionless. Like a shark. Hungry and ready for a victim.

Only one victim will do.

It’s going to be tonight. It has to be. I can’t take not having him any more.

I’ve dressed the part in a skintight black sheath I’ve borrowed from Ruby, along with heeled boots. It’s a little more dressy than my usual jeans and T-shirt, but I need every advantage. If he’s going to try to resist, this dress will convince him.

As soon as I walk through the door, he’s staring at me. He’s trying to hide his desperation, but it’s written all over his face and in every tense muscle that flexes as he ogles me. I don’t let him see how violently he affects me. Showing him all my cards isn’t part of this game. I feign disinterest and graze his crotch with my butt as I pass him on the way to the kitchen.

Not playing fair but definitely playing to win.

He’s drinking beer. I grab one, too. Then I brush past him again on the way out. He makes a sound of frustration, but he doesn’t touch me.

He’s just delaying the inevitable.

Back in the living room, Avery is setting up shots of tequila. Holt and I share a look. It speaks volumes. Without talking, we line up for our turn. I grab his hand, lick it, then cover it in salt. Lick it again to make it perfectly clean. Graze it with my teeth. His expression is pure sex as I sip and suck. He uses my clavicle. Sprinkles me. Sucks me clean. Makes me feel dirty in a good way.

We line up again.

This time we use other people, because we don’t want our friends becoming suspicious. We watch each other, though.

The shots are an excuse, and we both know it. We want to lose control. We’re both strung so tight, the only choice is to snap.

Still, if his brain has anything to do with it, he’ll get out of here before he does something stupid with me. His brain is fooling itself. Already, I can see layers of protection sliding away as the booze works on him.

It’s only a matter of time.

Three shots later, I can’t hide that I’m staring, while I imagine the parts I want to touch. He makes my mouth dry. I nurse a bottle of beer and suck on it suggestively. The front of his pants swells. He’s trying to carry on a conversation with Lucas and failing, big time.

When someone cranks up the music, I dance. I close my eyes and sway to the beat. There are bodies all around me, but as soon as he’s there, I feel it low in my belly. It’s a low, hungry burn that will only be soothed by him. I find him behind me without even opening my eyes. He sways against me, one arm around my waist. I wind my fingers through his hair and tug as his groan vibrates into my back. I wonder if people are gossiping about us yet. Even if they are, I’m beyond caring.

He drops his head to my shoulder, a supplicant in the making. I turn and whisper, “I can feel how hard you are.” He tightens his arm around my waist as he pulls me back against his erection.

“You walk into this party looking like sex in woman form and expect me to be anything but hard? That’s f*cking laughable.”

I grind into him. Make him exhale between his teeth. Then I move away and turn to look at him as I dance with others to try to disguise how oblivious I am to anyone but him. Another arm winds around my waist and pulls me back to a firm chest. Shorter than Ethan. Smells good.

Connor.

“What the hell did you do to Holt?” he whispers as he spins me around to face him. “He looks like he wants to murder you.”

I turn to look at Ethan. Yeah, he looks murderous, but it isn’t aimed at me.

“Oh, you know,” I say as I take a step back. “He’s uptight, as usual.”

More than usual. Way more.

“You need me to … you know … protect you, or whatever?”

I almost laugh. If anyone needs protection tonight, it’s Ethan. I’m the predator. He’s my well-endowed prey. “No, I’m good. Thanks for the offer, though.” I hug him, short and perfunctory. By the time I turn around, I’ve forgotten he was even there.