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Authors: Sara Wylde

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BOOK: Slut
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“Thought that was my line,” J.D. shot back.

Rosa nudged me as we made our way down to the car. I turned to look at her and nodded, a silent communique between us on the nature of the banter between them. Sexual tension you could cut with a knife.

It made me shiver. Even if it wasn’t
my
tension, it was still way hot.

When we got to the dock, Rosa growled. Literally, she sounded like a husky with a grudge.

“What’s wrong?”

“I recognize half the cars in the parking lot. The guys from The Rooster are here.”

Oh. The Rooster. The strip club where Brant used to work. “Is the guy on The Asshole List here?”

“Yeah. I see his stupid car. He must be part of the entertainment.” Rosa rolled her eyes.

“I want a look at this sex god who was stupid enough to throw away everything he had with a woman like Claire.”

“Good. You can get me in close and I can feign sea sickness and barf all over him,” Rosa declared.

“Finn McCool.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “And his friggin’ accent. Good lines though. He photographed well.”

“If you think it’ll bother him, I’ll buy a lap dance from him.” Fain grinned.

Rosa looked at him. “I like how you think, J.D.”

“You’re one of a select few,” he replied.

It wasn’t until after we boarded that I saw
him
. He was on an upper veranda sipping a whiskey in a dove gray suit like some riverboat gambler from days of yore.

Thornton Fucking Edgeleaf
.

When he saw me, he held up his glass in a toast and took a long pull.

I spun around to Ryan and threw my arms around his shoulders. “If you give a single fuck about me, you’ll kiss me right now. No questions.”

And he did. He crashed his mouth into mine and I melted against him. He knew what he was doing, but it was kind of gross. It was like kissing my brother.

But maybe that would drive the idea home for Thornton and he would never so much as look in my direction again.

When it was over, I whispered in Ryan’s ear, “Thank you.”

“You’re going to tell me what that was about later, right?” he whispered back.

“Yep. Later. After I’ve had the appropriate medicine. Which way is the bar?”

CHAPTER THREE

 

It was easy to get lost in the crowd and hide far away from Thornton, but not to hide from the feelings he wrought in me. The only thing I could do with those was stuff them down deep where no one could see them. Least of all, me.

I grabbed a whiskey sour from the open bar and meandered down one of the narrow, dimly lit hallways. It felt so sordid, almost like how I imagined a bordello would be back in the days when such things were common on the riverboats.

The seedier, the better.

As I passed an open door, I heard Karlie’s voice so I pushed inside.

The room was set up like some sort of receiving area, a large wing-backed chair made up like a throne and presents on all the tables.

I realized I hadn’t brought one.

My gaze was drawn to the birthday girl herself, blushing demurely and leaning against the doorframe to the closet while talking to the big, hot, oiled man.

He was so hot, I thought my eyes would melt and his voice? Sweet Jesus, he had this Irish accent that was like putting on a pair of real silk panties for the first time.

Although there was a niggling voice in the back of my head that felt the unreasonable need to defend Thornton against these thoughts. Like I’d somehow trespassed against him by thinking this tall slab of fuck-me-hard was attractive.

“There’s the birthday girl,” I said, making myself known.

She looked up, a pretty blush staining her cheeks. For fuck’s sake, who blushed like that?

“Bex!” She hugged me and kissed both of my cheeks. Not faux polite air kisses, but actual contact.

“Happy Birthday. Is that your present?” I nodded to the beefcake.

I watched something strange come over his features—a hardening, for lack of a better word. What I said didn’t make him angry, didn’t seem to hurt him, but it was like they pulled him into something else. Another way of being.

Which was probably proof I needed more liquor. That didn’t make any sense. He was paid to be there. It’s not like I’d read a ton of stories about the exploitation of men. If he’d been a woman, I might have wondered if he had a pimp who’d forced him. But he was free to come and go—literally—as he pleased. He was a man.

“No.” Karlie pushed a bit of hair behind her ear. “You can’t give a person as a present.”

“No, but you can give an experience. Isn’t that right, handsome?” I nodded to the guy.

“For sure you can,” he said in that slick accent. “You can give me if you want.”

“Can I?” I grinned. “I think I will. Considering it’s her birthday and all. What do you charge for…” I paused as I considered the right phrase. “To experience you?”

“Five grand.”

“That better be a whole lot of experience.” I arched a brow.

“Aye, lassie. ‘Tis.” He winked at me.

“I think I better try it out for myself. What’s your name?” He might be just the medicine. I tried not to think about that guy, the one I’d paid once before because I was too fat, too ugly, too…

“Finn McCool.”

“Are you shitting me? Of course it is.” I shook my head. He was the one on The Asshole List. I rolled my eyes at my own luck. This was the guy Claire had been in love with and who’d done her utterly, horribly, and completely wrong. I wouldn’t betray Claire by rolling around with him, no matter how much I wanted to. He sure was pretty, though.

“Famous, am I?” He cocked his head to the side.

“More like notorious.”

“Ah, well, there’s no such thing as bad attention, is there?”

He looked at me like he knew, like we shared a disease, like he could smell it on me. Maybe he was a wolf. Or maybe we were both lost sheep in bloody pelts, pretending.

“If you say so,” I said, conjuring upper crust indifference from thin air, my well-worn parlor trick.

The corner of his mouth curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile, but it wasn’t really a smirk either. “You’re the Bex that Claire moved in with, aren’t you?”

I pursed my lips.

“Who is Claire?” Karlie looked back and forth between us.

I didn’t answer her. “So you want the date or not, stud?”

“Yeah, I want it.” He pulled out his phone and the attachment that would allow him to process my credit card.

I handed him my card. “Show her a real good time. Since it’s her birthday.”

“You want me to throw in something for you while I’m at it? Maybe a visit to your place?” He eyed me as a wolf would a rabbit.

“Not a chance.” I shook my head. “Claire is doing really well without you.”

“I didn’t say to ‘come see Claire’. I said to see
you
.”

I laughed. “I’m not that girl. If you want to find out where she’s living, ask her. I know she still cares about you.” Suddenly, I felt disloyal to Brant. Damn, but having friends was
hard
. “But before you latch on to that, you should know she’s in love with Brant.”

“Oh my god, Bex. I’m going to die of frustration if you don’t tell me who these people are,” Karlie interrupted, her hands tightened into little fists.

“She’s the one I was telling you about,” Finn answered.

“The one you cheated on?”

“Yeah, that one. Worst mistake of my life.” He shrugged and there was a sadness in his eyes.

But it didn’t touch me in my feels or anything. Fuck him. He knew what he was doing when he cheated on her. People cheat for a lot of reasons, and I’m not going to judge those reasons or those actions. But neither will I feel the least bit sorry for them when they have to live with their choices.

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you,” Karlie said with a certain confidence. “That’s what women do.”

It took every bit of effort on my part to keep from snorting aloud. Just because Karlie’s mother put up with her father’s infidelity, and most of the people who ran in her social circles behaved the same, she thought that was just how the world worked. I knew that it didn’t have to be that way.

Because Claire gave me hope it didn’t. So did Ryan. Maybe that’s why I was friends with them. They were shining examples of good people. People I always wanted to be like rather than the strange mannequins my father trotted out in front of me like show ponies. They were all so fake, so plastic, but unlike plastic were completely useless in their chosen form.

“No, she’s better than that,” Finn said.

“And don’t you forget it.” I looked at Karlie. “Hey, I want a report back on my gift. You’ll have to tell me all about it next week. Lunch?”

“Sure.” She bit her lip. “But uh, what do I do with my gift?”

This time I really did snort. I sounded like a truffling pig searching for something juicy.

Butterball Bex
. Because pigs are fat—that’s where my mind went and I struggled hard to push that voice down.

“I’m sure the man himself will tell you.”

“Wait, is she a…” He grabbed my shoulder and whispered in my ear like it was a dirty word, “
virgin
?”

“Yeah. Have fun with that. And by the way—” I snatched his phone and ran another charge through. “You owe my man J.D. Fain a dance. Big dude. Five Finger Death Punch t-shirt. Can’t miss him.”

“Does he know I’m coming or is he one of those homophobes who’ll try to sucker punch me?” He still looked like a wolf.

“You think you deserve a sucker punch?” Why would he ask that?

“Probably.” His eyes were hollow and flat. It made me wonder if I told him that yeah, J.D. would pop him one if he’d still go try to give him the dance.

“No.” I shook my head. “He’ll appreciate my gift.” Maybe Ryan would too. Maybe this would motivate him to make some kind of move. He’d been obsessing over Fain forever. I mean, who wouldn’t? But it was time to do something about it or move along.

“J.D. Fain came to my party?” Karlie squeaked.

I grinned at her. “Hell yeah, he did. Whole Bellemont football team is here.”

“But willingly? He came to a party?
My
party?” Karlie trilled.

“If I knew that’s all the present you wanted, I could’ve saved the five grand.” I grinned. She was easily amused. Karlie was accepted in our circles because of her money and only because of her money. If not for that, she’d be that kid who never got picked for dodge ball and the popular kids would throw milk at her at lunch.

I felt sorry for her for so many reasons. The most of which was because she reminded me of myself. I hated that, but I also liked that I could do something about it. That’s why I’d bought her an “experience” with Finn. I didn’t think that would bother Claire. Me fucking him would, but not this. Not if she met Karlie.

“I’m trying to imagine asking him to come, but I can only see me asking and him saying,
fuck you
. I didn’t know he knew any other words.”

Hearing Karlie say fuck you had suddenly become one of my favorite things. She had this sweet, lilting voice and it wasn’t something you’d ever expect to hear come out of her mouth. I wanted to make her say it again.

“Just tell him the dance is a gift from Bex. He’ll like it. Promise.” I winked at him.

“Can J.D. have his dance first, before my present? I want to watch.” Karlie’s eyes had gone bright.

I laughed. “Who knew you had it in you?”

Karlie blushed. “Me. I knew. I enjoy Yaoi, you know.”

Japanese boy/boy love. “Good for you.”

“Do you really think Fain will be okay with this?”

“You lassies are talking about this lad like he’s something special. We’ve all got the same parts.” He wrinkled his nose. “None of us are anything better than the other.”

I thought about Thornton again. Damn it, I had to get him out of my head. The best way to get over one guy was to get under another. I needed to find one and fast. If I let Thornton take up too much rental space in my head, I’d never get rid of him. He’d grow roots and sprout—then he’d tangle up in everything. I couldn’t have that.

“Not all the same parts. He’s got a tattoo on his back that you just have to see.”

It had been quite the topic of conversation for everyone at Bellemont. J.D. had the word “fag” on his back. It was more like a scarification or a brand, really, cradled by a tattooed phoenix.

Karlie nodded. “I really wanted to interview him about it for my anthro project, but I’ve been too afraid to ask.”

“What is it?” asked Finn. “Hardly shocking, these days. I’ve got quite a few myself.”

“It says ‘fag’,” I bit out, coolly, hoping to provoke some kind of response – some ripple in those flat, shining eyes.

Finn raised a brow. “Really? I’m assuming you don’t mean fag as in a smoke?” Then his nose curled in disgust. “Why does it matter what he has inked on his back? Because everyone wants to know where he sticks his mickey? Who the fuck cares?”

I don’t know why it amused me that he seemed so ready to jump to Fain’s defense. As if we were impugning him somehow.

But then it occurred to me that he was right. It didn’t really matter where he stuck his dick or with who—assuming that’s what a mickey was to the Irish hottie and not a date rape drug.

It was kind of like only seeing Claire as fat. She was beautiful, intelligent, kind, and even fat, she was so hot.

And kind of like calling me a slut.

As if J.D. Fain’s sexual orientation was somehow there to titillate us all. It wasn’t.

The thought of that was somehow too big for me to process at the moment, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it once I had processed it. So I tucked it away, next to Thornton Edgeleaf.

“There you are,” Rosa said from the doorway. “I’ve been trying to find you. My sort of ex is here and—” She stopped when she saw Finn. “Asshole.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Karlie said, moving to stand in front of him like a mama bear defending her young.

Rosa cocked her head to the side. “I will decide what’s necessary as to what comes out of my mouth. And if you don’t like it, I don’t give a fu—”

I put my hand on Rosa’s shoulder. “He’s her present.”

“Why would you ever?” she scowled.

“I bought a dance for J.D. too.”

Rosa grinned. “I guess that’s okay then.”

“Especially since Karlie wants to watch.”

“Good for her.” The scowl was back.

I could tell that Rosa had taken an immediate dislike to Karlie for trying to mommy Finn. Or Kieran. Or whatever the hell his name was. I kind of liked calling him Asshole.

“Come on, and I’ll tell you more about it.” I dragged her toward the door.

“I see what you’re doing and I’m only letting you get away with it because I have more important things on my plate.”

I steered her out of the room. “Like what?”

The hallway was shadowed and already stank of spilled booze. We followed the signs toward the dining area.

“Okay, so.” Rosa took a deep breath. “The guy who told Claire she was pretty for a fat girl that night at the strip club that set all of that mess in motion? Yeah. Him. I might have slept with him.” Rose pursed her lips. “A few times.”

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