“Knives, leave him alone.” Skirt groans. “He’s just a wee one.”
“He isn’t just ‘a wee one.’ He held his own. Who are you?” Knives asks, not sticking out his hand but running that damn ninja star across his knuckles like always.
“Benji,” my friend says. “Natalia, I’m so sorry about your eye. I shouldn’t have started anything. I didn’t like how he talked about you ladies.”
“No, you did good, kid,” Knives says. “You want something bigger, badder, and a bit messier, come prospect. We’re always looking for new blood.”
Benji rubs his jaw and nods. “Yeah, alright. Anything is better than going to the NFL to follow dad’s footsteps.”
Knives tosses his head back and laughs. “Ah, kid. You have no idea how many of us have fucking daddy issues.”
Slingshot comes outside, and he marches to me with powerful strides. The sun glints against his leather cut and his blue eyes; god, they hypnotize me. I don’t think he knows the power he exudes because he’s always holding it in. Without stopping, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and bends me, dipping me over his knee as he kisses me, stealing my breath as his own.
A few catcalls sound out, and he pulls me up quickly, too quickly for me to piece together a single thought as his thumb brushes over my lips. “You didn’t go back to your seat. Good girls listen, don’t they?”
I nod and rub my thighs together when my clit begins to throb.
“Make it up to me by going out with me, right now.”
“Now? Right now?” I look around at my group of friends, and they’re all nodding.
“She’d love to go out.” Nora’s hand presses against my back, and she pushes me toward Slingshot.
“Well, there’s a bonfire tonight at the house,” Benji suggests. “If you want to come.”
“How about we meet you there? I want to change into something…better.”
Slingshot brings his soft lips to my ears. “Are you trying to tease me, Good Girl?”
I nod.
“Make sure you don’t wear panties, then. Text me the address.” He gives my behind a good squeeze as he leaves but then backtracks. “And be good while I’m gone, Natalia. You don’t want to know what happens when you misbehave.”
Oh, I do. I really do.
With hearts in my eyes and liquid heat between my thighs, I watch him mount his bike, which only leads me to think of all the ways he can mount me. The bikes grumble to life. The rumbles are deafening and shake the beverages on the table: the ice clinks together—the silverware trembles against the white tablecloth.
Slingshot does something I don’t expect him to do and reminds me how soft and tender his heart is.
He blows me a kiss in front of everyone without caring what others will think.
My knees are weak, and my brain is a complete fog as he pulls away.
“Oh my god, girl. You are so screwed,” Faye cheers before downing her drink.
“Nah, she’s about to be screwed. Right into a mattress!” Cora hollers and thrusts her hips into the air.
And then they begin to sing that damn song in The Sweetest Thing, and even Benji is cracking up laughing, but that’s not what makes it so bad.
Other people join in.
And I’ve never heard the word penis so much in my life.
I never want to watch that movie again.
Also, my friends need to come with a warning label. Society is never ready. I’m never ready.
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