Hmm…it’s not like Jiminy to give me this type of advice. Usually he’s all about laying on guilt trips longer than Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.
Could I do it, though?
Could I…could I have sex with Dex?
Bitch please—you are a trope slut. This whole scenario has you written all over it—no pun intended.
*clears throat*
Here, let me count them for you.
You have brothers’ best friend—so hot!
Then there’s your forced proximity/roommates for the next three weeks. Three. Weeks!
Don’t forget the super-hot bodyguard/protector trope thanks to Justin butting in.
And of course, mi-li-tary, they singsong.
*cups hands around mouth* Trope it up.
I do love me some tropes.
And…
Maybe…
Hmm…
I already proved I don’t actually love Dex by falling for Ryan, so it’s not like I’d have to worry about catching feelings if I did sleep with him.
Right?
Chapter Fourteen
The Lost Boys Group Chat
CONNER: You still alive? It’s been radio silent over there.
* * *
TYLER: Truth. Com check, one-two, one-two.
* * *
JUSTIN: Hold on—I have proof of life.
* * *
JUSTIN: *picture of Dex playing Mario Kart with Maddey, Sammy, and Jamie*
* * *
CONNER: ^^You see this shit? Asshole is over here giving us shit and he’s sitting pretty on a Gucci mission.
* * *
DEX: *middle finger emoji* Fuck you, assholes.
* * *
TYLER: Our little Tink did electrocute his balls, so…
* * *
CONNER: Fuck that. Dex is a kinky fucker. It was probably foreplay for him.
* * *
DEX: The fuck?!
* * *
JUSTIN: Can we maybe not use words like “kinky” and “foreplay” when the subject matter is our sister?
* * *
TYLER: You’ve read her books, bro…
* * *
JUSTIN: Jesus Christ. How did Mom not give you away when you were a baby?
* * *
CONNER: Puh-lease. I’m Babs’ favorite.
* * *
TYLER: WRONG! That honor goes to Madz and you know it.
* * *
CONNER: Only because she lives the closest.
* * *
JUSTIN: And what am I? Chopped liver?
* * *
TYLER: …
* * *
CONNER: New phone, who dis?
* * *
JUSTIN: Assholes.
* * *
DEX: Was there an actual point to this conversation?
* * *
CONNER: Just wanted to make sure Tink didn’t make you walk the plank, Hook.
Chapter Fifteen
Maddey has been acting…strange?…since yesterday morning, and I can’t quite put my finger on what changed. I doubt anyone else picked up on it, but when it comes to Maddey McClain, I notice everything.
Like the way her sports bra pressed together those glorious tits she’s not supposed to have because she’s Baby McClain.
Or how good her ass looked bent over in downward dog during yoga.
Or the generous swell of her hips emphasized by the nipped-in waist displayed by the high band of her printed leggings. Fuck me if they weren’t made for my hands to grip while I drive myself so deep inside her from behind she would feel me in her throat.
And don’t even get me started on how perfectly she arched her back during the cow stretch.
Shit! Now I’m hard.
One would think after having the least helpful group chat ever with the Die Hard Trilogy, I wouldn’t be suffering from a constant case of spontaneous erections. Unfortunately, the only thing it did was remind me of the steamy novels my girl has penned instead of the fact that she is the sister of my best friends.
Oof. I did it again—thought of her as my girl.
Sure, I’ve thought of Maddey as my girl throughout the years, but doing so while playing house is a recipe for disaster.
Remember how I said I noticed she was acting weird? Well, ever since her friends left last night, I’ve gotten the sense she’s been avoiding me. I know she’s awake—I heard her having a legit conversation with Trident this morning.
So where is she?
There was movement upstairs while I was reviewing the video feeds from yesterday, so I’m assuming she’s in her office. I don’t want to interrupt her work, but I need to pick her brain again, see if there are any clues or details we might be able to garner from her memories.
I know it’s her least favorite topic, but it is necessary. Plus I figure with Justin and Paul working, she’ll be more receptive.
I love my best friend and he’s a smart guy, but he has tunnel vision when it comes to Maddey.
Voices filter down the hallway as I crest the top of the stairs, and I wonder which of her friends she’s talking to now. The team and I watch a lot of How I Met Your Mother reruns—a fact that endears me to Jake and Jordan—during our downtime on missions and deployments, but Maddey and her people take codependent to entirely new levels.
“Come here.”
I stop in my tracks at the sound of a male voice.
“You’re holding me right now—I’m not sure I can get any closer to you.”
Who is Maddey talking to? I don’t recognize the voice.
“You have such a smart mouth. The things I want to do to that mouth…”
The fuck?
Every possessive instinct inside my body snaps to attention. The only person who should be talking about doing things to Maddey’s mouth is me, not whoever this asshat is. Maddey is mine.
What about Ryan? I choose to ignore that particular thought.
I’m not able to hear everything that is said. I need to be closer because what the actual fuck?
“I bet if I slide my fingers into your pussy right now, I will find you soaking wet.”
Fuck you, asshole. The only one who will be sliding into her pussy is me.
“Oh fuck, baby, you definitely like it when I do that because your pussy just tightened around my fingers.”
That’s it. I’m done. I don’t care if I come off looking like the world’s craziest asshole; I can’t listen to one more second of this.
I slam through the partly open door, Trident on his feet in an instant with a growl at how I barreled into the room. Good dog.