Page 14 of Kings of Sherwood

She chews her lip, grins. “Good.”

Goddammit. The look of her, that little defiant streak. My blood’s already beating hot and hard, my self-control hanging by a thread. The last thing I need is her to turn brat right in front of me. I will fucking lose my composure just to give her what she deserves.

I breathe out. Plant my hands on either side of her head. Lean in.

“Princess, you give me attitude like that and make no mistake, I will ruin you.”

I hear her gasp, feel the quick intake of breath on the skin of my wrist, I’m so close, and just the brush of it makes my cock pulse.

But she looks up at me, those big, just a little glassy eyes, the faint freckles on flushed skin. “You promise?”

The growl comes from so deep in my throat I could literally be half-bear by now. She smiles, because she knows she’s got me, knows exactly what she’s doing, little natural-born tease, and arches her back to look at me closer. As she does, the strap of her top shifts, slips, slides around the sweet soft little curve of her right breast and exposes the dusky pink edge of her nipple.

God fucking dammit.

I suck in a breath through my teeth. Try not to think about taking that tender part of her with my tongue. My teeth. Getting it stiff and raw until she begs me to stop or keep going, I don’t care.

“What?” she asks, like it’s not the most loaded question in the history of the goddamn universe. “Something wrong?”

Sense prevails despite every instinct in my body screaming for me to drag her by the hair, bend her over, and show her what girls like her deserve. I keep my fingers steady as I pull at the edge of the fabric, tug it gently back into place.

Her eyes widen, darting to my hand. “Oops.”

I allow myself the barest smile and find my voice somehow. “You didn’t notice?”

She shakes her head.

“Then we should go.”

“But—”

“Leaving. Now,” I repeat. It’s not a question, and she should know that.

Still, I let myself have one thing. I sweep an arm to her waist, relishing her soft skin on mine, and pull her close to whisper in her ear.

“The sooner you’re home, the sooner you’re sober, Princess. And then I won’t hold back.”

Chapter Four

Maren

LJ is no fucking fun, I think petulantly as I shoulder my way to the ladies’ room. At least he allowed me to take a bathroom break before we leave.Or, okay, no, he’s lots of fun. In a certain way. But not right this—

“Ow!”

Without meaning to, I swing the door into a cluster of girls, because the bathroom is about four square feet, yet somehow still manages to have two stalls.

“Sorry!” I gasp. “I’m sorry, this thing is—oh, hi!” I brighten, realizing it’s my friends—are they my friends?—from the dance floor, and they’re smiling at me.

“More the merrier!” calls a voice from in one of the stalls, which cracks them all up—and me, too.

“Girl.” Another of them—McKayla or Mackenzie or something like that?—grabs me by the shoulders, almost as firm as LJ. “I have to ask. Are you okay? Going home with those guys?”

I stifle a snort of laughter. It’s sweet of her, actually, the kind of drunk-girl bathroom solidarity I’d only ever seen in movies before, and for a minute I wonder what would happen if I told her no. Maybe she’d headbutt LJ. Scratch Rob’s eyes out with her acrylics.

I giggle again before I remember she’s asked me a question.

“Oh, um, no.” I shake my head. “I’m fine. They’re...” I pause. Probably better not to overexplain, right? “Friends.”

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