“Bullshit.” I take a sip from my beer, set it down on the tiny metal table beside me with a loud clunk. The late afternoon sun is intense and I’m sweating. I should jump in the pool real quick to cool off, but it’s still ice cold so I’ll pass. “No gambling tonight,” I add. It’s Tristan’s night to work anyway so I don’t have to be there.
“Why? You still mad over how the little redhead burned you?” Gabe laughs.
I’m tempted to throw my phone in the pool but restrain myself. “My cheek still hurts,” I mutter.
Gabe laughs harder. “She’s a firecracker, I’ll give her that. Bet she’s an amazing fuck.”
“You thought about fucking her?” I feel vaguely possessive. Fine, more than vaguely possessive. More like, I’m venturing into she’s mine territory.
“Well, yeah. Did you get a good look at her? I know you did. You couldn’t keep your eyes off her. She’s hot, with all that hair and the tits and her mouth? Christ.”
“What about her mouth?” Yeah. He has no business thinking of Jade like this. Talking about Jade like this.
You don’t either asshole.
“You sound jealous.”
I snort. “Impossible. What could I be jealous of?”
“Exactly. That’s why you need to come to the house tonight. Lots of girls will be there. You can have your pick and get that temperamental Jade out of your head for good,” Gabe says.
“I won her fair and square. If I ever see her again, I’m collecting,” I say, feeling like a jerk the second the words fall from my mouth.
“I think it’s in your best interest you never see her again. Right? She’s crazy, dude. She fucking slapped you. What the hell was her problem anyway?”
Oh, I don’t know. Her boyfriend gave her up pretty damn easily. I was being a prick. Granted, she was being somewhat of a bitch and I was just leveling the playing field so to speak but…
It was a tense night. An insane night. One I don’t want to repeat.
So why’d I dream about her? About those bee-stung lips clinging to mine, and her tongue. About my hands buried in all that vibrant red hair, tugging on it, making her moan. About her ass filling my palms and her tits pressed against my chest and…
“I’ll pick you up at ten,” Gabe says, crashing into the middle of my hot thoughts.
“What time does the party start?”
“Nine. We’ll make an epic entrance,” Gabe reassures me before we end the call.
I’m tired of epic entrances too. I’m tired of…everything. It all bores me. I sound like a dick but I can’t help myself. I’ve been handed everything I could ever want. My family comes from old money. The Prescotts have been around for generations, originally making their money in real estate. Mother is a Shepard and their multigenerational fortune came from the stock market.
Jade had been right. I’m a complete asshole with my rich guy name and my rich guy attitude. I know nothing else. I’ve never been anything else but the spoiled rich kid. The boy who went to boarding school because his parents were sick of dealing with his shit so they got him out of the house in the most legitimate way. The boy who shoplifted from various stores one too many times when he was thirteen so he got shoved into the back of a police car and questioned at the station in order to be taught a lesson. The high school student who was caught snorting coke in the chemistry lab with a couple of friends and almost got expelled.
Thank God for Daddy who wrote a big check and got all that nastiness swept under the rug.
I don’t really do drugs anymore. My vice of choice is alcohol and ever since I became of legal age to drink it, I’m not indulging as much. It’s not forbidden anymore so therefore, I’m over it.
Oh, and my other vice—besides women—is gambling.
It’s illegal, what we’re doing, what we’re running at Gabe’s. And that’s more than half the thrill. If I can’t push it to the very edge, then I’m not having any fun.
Sick but true.
I’m fairly sure that’s why I enjoyed toying with Jade so much, why I included her in our bet last night. It felt forbidden, asking Joel to bet his girl. I’ve pushed guys to bet their cars (and I’ve won two, sold them both on Craigslist), to bet their motorcycles (never won one), to bet their designer sunglasses (won more than my fair share), their gold necklaces, their fucking Nikes, their dogs (never won a pet either).
I’ve never asked for a girl though. Her anger had fueled me. Her smart mouth had turned me on. Touching the bare skin of her arm…she’s incredibly soft. The scent of her hair, those big eyes, those bigger tits.
Christ.
I have it bad. Maybe I need to find another hot redhead tonight and fuck her. Fuck Bitch Face Jade right out of my system so I’ll quit thinking about her.
But first, I’m gonna take a shower and jerk off to thoughts of her lips wrapped tight around my cock. Just to take the edge off.
“This sucks,” I yell in Gabe’s ear.
“What are you? An old man?” Gabe looks incredulous, then flashes a giant smile at me as he clutches his bottleneck beer tight. “Look. How can this even begin to suck?”
I let my gaze cast out to where Gabe is indicating with the wide sweep of his hand. It’s mayhem in the backyard. White lights are strung between the trees, zigzagging over our heads. A DJ is at the backend of the yard, his equipment on a stage as he clutches a pair of headphones in one hand and waves his other hand in the air to the beat of the song, his face lit up by his laptop’s screen. The yard is jam packed with bodies hopping up and down to the latest by Katy Perry, some sickeningly upbeat song that makes me want to gauge out my ears with extra sharp knives.