Page 63 of Endgame

“I’m not blushing!” she denied quickly – too quickly. Her voice was an octave higher, too, and her pulse? It was fluttering in her neck.

“Liar,” I taunted, leaning a hip against the door frame. “Tell me.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Six shot back, growing more flustered by the second. “We hate each other, remember? We don’t do civilized conversation.”

I grinned. I’d seen that expression before. It was the one girls usually wore when I was balls deep inside them. “You’re fucking yourself.”

“What?” she half-screamed, half choked out. “I am not!”

My grin widened.

She so was.

Unable to stop myself, I slipped through the crack in the door and walked straight over to her bed; ignoring her protests along the way.

“No, Rourke! Get out of here… Please. Get the hell out…”

My eyes locked on her purple pal still vibrating around on her unmade bed and I threw my head back and laughed. “Iknewit!”

Reaching down, I grabbed the vibrator off the mattress and clicked the button. Immediately, the rubber dick starting spazzing out of control, the head jolting back and forth rampantly.

“Fuck me, Six. I heard a humming sound, but I thought you were watching TV or drying your hair–”

“Give methat,” Six hissed. Grabbing the vibrator out of my hand, she switched it off and stomped over to her nightstand before shoving it inside the top drawer.

“Is this what you stole my condoms for?” I teased, laughing my ass off. “Because I think you’re safe.”

“Get out of my room,” she screamed, red faced, as she stalked towards me, still clutching that tiny fucking towel. “Now, Rourke.”

“Or what? You’ll set your dick on me? I need to know, Six; who do you visualize when you’re plunging that thing inside your pussy?”

“It’s not funny,” she screamed, punching my chest with her tiny fist. “Stop laughing at me, you bastard.”

Maybe it wasn’t, but I couldn’t stop laughing. “Come on, Six, you can tell me.”

She opened her mouth to say something and then quickly closed it.

“If you don’t tell me, I’m gonna presume it’s me,” I teased.

Her face turned purple.

“Is it me, Six?” I purred. “Do you fuck yourself with the rubber dick and pretend it’s me?”

“I hate you, Rourke Owens,” she choked out, hiccupping. “You’re a piece of shit.”

My laugher faded fast the moment I saw tears appear in her eyes.

Shit.

“What is this?” I gaped at her. “Are you seriouslycryingover this?”

Was she cracking already?

Over a rubber dick?

Hell…

“There’s no need to be so damn sensitive.” I scratched my head, feeling at a loss. “I think it’s hot.” I didn’t just think it; itwashot. The thought of Six working herself over with that vibrating dick made my own spring to life in my shorts. “I fuck myself too. Daily. It’s natural. No need to cry about it. Hell, if they sold vibrating hands, I’m pretty sure I’d use that, too –”

---