“Get out of this room,” she orders. “Now.”
“Blake––”
“I’m not kidding, Burrows. Leave.”
He holds her stare for another second, his expression twisting with shame. Then, he walks out the bedroom door and slams it behind him. Her shoulders flinch slightly at the sound, but other than that, you’d think we were discussing the weather instead of a bet involving her virginity.
Guilt builds inside of me. Whether it’s from me barging in and breaking them up, my slipup during Strip Pong, or maybe it’s from my involvement in the first place, I’m not sure. But I feel like a piece of shit, and I hate how she was caught in the crosshairs.
It doesn’t matter that the bass is still thumping throughout the house, we’re in the eye of the storm in this room, and the silence is so tense, so charged, I’m surprised I’m still left standing. Her eyes are hazy as she looks straight ahead, almost disoriented. Numb.
I wish she’d yell. Wish she’d throw something. Wish she’d storm out of here and call everyone out for being assholes, vowing to never speak to any of us again. That Blake I can handle. The one in front of me, though? Silent and in control? She’s a wild card, leaving me helpless and feeling more on edge than I’ve ever felt in my entire life.
“Blake…”
“Are you in on it?” she whispers.
Convinced I heard her wrong, my brows lift, and I ask, “What?”
“Are you in on the bet?” She blinks and looks up at me.
“You think I’d bet on your virginity?”
“It’s the only plausible reason why you’d come in here and stop me from hooking up with Burrows.”
With a bark of laughter, I argue, “You’re shitting me, right?”
“If that’s not the case, you should probably tell me why you felt like you had any right to come in here and stop me from having sex with Shawn.”
Shawn.
The name sounds more intimate as it slips past her lips, twisting the dagger in my chest.
I open my mouth, but she crosses her arms and glares at me. The sight only makes my heart beat faster and leaves my hands itching to tug at her fiery hair so I can bring her closer and kiss the shit out of her. So I can make her feel better. So I can fix this.
Give me your fire, Blake. Give me everything. Just don’t be numb.
“Tell me something, Teddy,” she spits. “How’d the team know about my virginity in the first place?”
My expression falls, and I take a step closer to her, but she backs away.
“Blake,” I start.
“You told them. Didn’t you?”
My chest feels tight. Like I can’t breathe as my gaze takes in the most stubborn woman in the entire world standing in front of me who’s going head-to-head with her brother’s best friend.
She’s beautiful like this. Angry. Pissed, actually. And wound up with nowhere to go.
Well, that’s a lie. I can think of a few places I could take her anger, especially when she’s looking at me like this. Where I could wield it. Teach her how to channel it into the best sex of our lives. But I won’t. Because she’s Colt’s little sister. And I might be lusting over the woman, but I won't cross that line.
Ever.
Teasing her, though? To snap her out of whatever’s swirling in her pretty little head? That, I can do.
“You mad at me, Blake?” I murmur, inching closer to her.
She stands her ground. “Furious.”
“Wanna take it out on me?”
Her mouth twitches, surprising me more than anything, her eyes practically glowing in the dim light. I figured she’d deck me in the face or knee me in the balls––both of which I deserve––but instead, she’s…amused?
Suspicion flares in my chest, but I stay quiet, my curiosity leading me to the slaughterhouse without any hope of stopping it.
As if realizing the ball is still in her court, she tilts her head to one side and asks, “Are you gonna fuck me now or what?”
My head jerks back a few inches, a flush of adrenaline surging through my body.
What did she say?
There’s no way I heard her right. Not a chance. I guess I need to have my ears checked. Either that or a CT scan because I’m definitely going crazy. I make a mental note to check into a psych ward as soon as I muster up the discipline to walk out of this room. Clearing my throat, I scratch at the scruff on my jaw, stalling. Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. I don’t know how I should react or if I hallucinated in the first place. This is Blakely Thorne. Baby Thorne. Innocent Blakely. The little girl who used to tag along with her older brother anywhere he went. The girl who snuck into my room and stole cinnamon bears from my secret stash. The kid who kept up with the guys just to prove she could. There’s no way she just asked if I’d have sex with her.
“I’m sorry, is that a no or…?” Her voice trails off, and she bats her lashes, looking innocent yet tempting at the same time. Like she has all the time in the world as she waits for my brain to stop short-circuiting.
“W-what did you just say?” I rasp, sounding like I’ve gargled gravel or some shit.
“I asked if you’re going to fuck me, or if I need to find Burrows again. Or hell, maybe Austin will do.”
I rush toward her, shoving her back against the door as the players’ names slip past her pink, pouty lips. A soft whoosh of air slips out of her, but the bullshit she’d been spewing ceases as she glares up at me.
“You’re not gonna sleep with anyone on the team,” I grit out.
“I’m gonna do whatever the hell I want because you don’t own me, Theodore Taylor. You didn’t own me when we were playing Strip Pong, and you sure as shit don’t own me in this room, either. Right now, you’re nothing more than a means to an end, and you have something I need.”
“Something you need?” I scoff. “And what’s that, Baby Thorne?”
Her chin dips toward my dick straining against my jeans. It’s been standing at full attention ever since I saw her in the damn white, lacy bra. Taunting me. Torturing me as all the thoughts of what it would be like to take it off the girl in front of me. How smooth her skin would feel in my hands. How tight her little nipples would be as I sucked on them. My balls tighten at the thought.
“I need the thing between your legs,” she clarifies.
I chuckle and step even closer, framing her feet with my own as she leans her upper back against the door and looks up at me, more confident and sexy than I’ve ever witnessed. She’s so small like this, though. So fragile.
“You want my dick, Blake?” I ask.
“Yours. Burrows’.” She shrugs one freckled shoulder. Her bra strap slips down, though she doesn’t bother to fix it. “Hell, I’ll take Austin’s right now if I have to,” she adds, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’d say Tukani might be a good fit, but the guy’s massive and would probably rip me apart, so…” She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth like she’s actually considering her options. “I might have to pass on him. For now, anyway.”
My frustration burns as I lean down, closing a bit of the distance between our heights. “So any dick will do, huh? I thought you’d want a good guy––”