"Holy shit..."
I roll my tongue in my cheek, fighting a smile and failing. "Like what you see?" I ask. "Or are you hoping to start something?"
Her mouth gapes open like a fish. Closing once and reopening only to close again. Finally, she shakes her head as if clearing away the dirty thoughts I know are swimming through her mind right now. "Just didn't expect you to have..." She gestures to me. "That."
I shrug, swiping one hand up over my face and through my hair. The smell of sweat and something even more odorous hits my nostrils and I drop my arm once more. "Unless you want to give it a ride then let's get moving. We still have a party to get to, and now I need a shower."
Avalon shakes her head. "In your dreams," she mutters, turning away.
Little does she know, I intend to make my dreams come true. Every single, filthy one of them.
37
Avalon
He’s fucking pierced. As in a sexy as fuck barbell straight through the head of his dick. I can’t get the image out of my head. I'm still thinking about it as we drive back into Eastpoint, and he drops me back off at Havers with the order to get showered and changed and meet him downstairs in an hour. I don't argue. After all, I made a deal and now it's my turn to honor it.
So, when that hour is up and he pulls up in a black Escalade looking freshly showered, I get off the curb and open the passenger side door before sliding inside. I scan the interior of the car. It resembles a spaceship with its blinking lights and numerous buttons. Heated air pours out of the vents, sliding across the still wet tangles of my hair.
Dean glances over as the Escalade glides onto the road and does a double take. "What are you wearing?" he asks.
I glance down at the tattered t-shirt and cut offs I put on after my shower. "Uh, clothes?"
He laughs, shaking his head. "I told you we were going to a party," he says.
A scowl forms over my lips. "Yeah, and? Is there a dress code?"
"No." His twitching lips and sparkling eyes showcase his amusement and for some reason, that annoys me.
"Then why the fuck did you ask about my clothes?" I demand.
Dean turns his head back towards the road. "It's just interesting is all. Most girls would dress nice, especially if they know they're going to be seen in public with me."
An indelicate snort escapes me. "Yeah, probably because they care."
"And you don't?" I'm not sure if he meant it as a question or not, but it comes out as one so I answer it.
"No," I say. "I don't."
We pull to a stop at a red light and one of Dean's hands leaves the steering wheel, coming down hard on the back of my seat as he turns and leans closer, close enough that I can smell the mint on his breath and the spice of his aftershave. "And that, baby girl," he replies, "is why I can't leave you alone."
The light switches to green all too soon and he pulls away again, returning his attention to the road and leaving me feeling like I just ran a mile at full speed. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Several minutes later, the Escalade turns into the massive entrance to what looks like a private home. Unlike the Frazier House with its old school charm, this mansion is more modern with a sleek style frame. The top looks completely flat from where we park alongside a row of several other cars. Also unlike the Frazier House, this place has a parking lot of sorts—not a real one, but from the way other people have left their cars, it seems like it. No piling cars out the back of one lane, but all are lined neatly in a row on one side of the massive grass lawn.
"Where are we?" I ask as Dean leads me up to the double frosted glass doors at the front of the house.
Dean's expression is shuttered when he answers. "A party," he says.
I arch a brow. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I mean, who's house is this?"
"Doesn't matter, we're not staying long." He doesn't bother to knock, just reaches for the handle, turns it, and gestures me inside with a hand on the small of my back. I don't have a second to recognize the intention behind his words because I'm too fucking confused by the feeling of his warm palm against my lower spine, reminding me of the burning feeling of his naked cock pressing against me in the water earlier.
“Where are Abel and Brax?” I ask. I wait until we're fully inside with the door closed behind us before I pull away from him, careful not to be obvious about it.
"They’re here somewhere," Dean says, nodding towards a set of open doors. “This way.”
I follow him through the house, noting that the people in attendance are all less lively than they were at the Frazier House. In fact, if I hadn't seen the effects of marijuana before and even used it a time or two myself, then I wouldn't now recognize that half of these people are stoned out of their minds. Cross-faded, I realize a second later when I spot several red solo cups along the surface of the coffee tables and fireplace mantle.
Dean pulls me into a kitchen that's easily larger than the entire trailer I'd lived in with Patricia. Strangely there's no one around, but it does have a great view out the back doors where I see a sea of other people—who all appear much more animated than those inside the house.
"Stay here," he orders. "I'm going to go find someone and then I'll be back and we can go."
Weird for him to insist on bringing me to a party like this, criticize my clothes for it, and then just drop me off and leave. I eye him curiously, but I don't say anything. Dean seems to realize my lack of answer and halfway to the door, he pauses and looks back.
"Stay," he orders again.
I flash him a grin, raising my hands in a movement of surrender. His lips press together into a scowl. "Say it," he snaps.
"Say what?" I challenge with an arched brow.
"Tell me that you're going to follow my orders and you'll stay right where I put you."
I roll my eyes. "I don't follow anyone's orders but my own," I reply. "But if it makes you feel better, yes, I'll wait here for you to get back. Just don't take too long or else I might get bored."
Dean's eyes slide over me and then, as if realizing that's the best he's going to get out of me, he nods once and disappears.
Huffing out a breath, I turn and press back against the counter of the unfamiliar kitchen. Girls in high heels and short glittery dresses that seem like overkill for a house party—this isn't some club, after all—stumble through and out the back doors. The noises that come from the open doors draw me forward. Curiosity sits in my chest as I glance out, scanning the crowd, but strangely enough, I don't recognize anyone at this party. I don't pay attention to most of my classmates, but I should remember some of these people, shouldn't I?
"Avalon?" I jerk around at the sound of my name being called. Corina stands in the doorway to the kitchen, a red Solo cup in hand as she blinks at me. "What are you doing here?"
I tilt my head at her and shrug. "Just hanging out," I say. It's not technically a lie, but I don't necessarily want to tell her that I came with Dean.
Her eyes dart from side to side and she sets her cup on the counter before approaching. Corina gets close, sidling up to me with one hand on my arm. She leans in even further as her eyes widen as if she’s still stunned by my mere presence here. I can feel my own eyebrows inching up towards my hairline. "Are you allowed to be here?" she whispers the question, making me jerk back with a scowl.