Page 24 of Don't Say You're Sorry

“Eight.”

Xavi splutters. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not. I counted,” Nate mutters, his fingers moving around to Xavi’s stomach.

Xavi rolls his eyes. “They were probably looking atyou, Captain.”

It’s Nate’s turn to scrunch his nose. “How do you not see it?”

Xavi grins, tipping his head back to look at him. “I only have eyes for you, baby,” he teases.

Nate’s jaw tics at the endearment as he wraps a hand around Xavi’s throat, dipping his head to say something in his ear. Whatever it is has Xavi squirming, his eyes closing as his mouth parts. He arches his back, and I drop my eyes to watch the way Nate’s fingers flex around his neck. I look lower, my gaze snagging on the little metal bars pierced through Xavi’s nipples. Nate pinches one of them with his free hand, making Xavi’s body jerk, and I snap my eyes back up, finding Nate’s already on me.

“I will kill you,” he warns, and I’m pretty sure he means it.

Nodding, I get up and leave them to it, heading back toward the house to grab a drink. Just as I step through the sliding glass doors and into the kitchen, I’m grabbed by my arm and shoved back against a wall between the windows, and there’s a body pressed against mine, solid and warm and smelling like me, pinning me in place. Easton drops his gym bag on the floor as his hand finds my throat, and I stare into his bright blue eyes, breathing hard and fast through my parted mouth.

“Huh,” Carter says, coming up behind Easton and putting his mouth next to his ear. Looking right at me, he says to Easton, “I like this new side of you,sunshine. Can I get a piece when you’re done with him?”

I glare at the asshole. “Don’t call him that.”

Carter laughs. “Oh, it goes both ways. How fun.”

“Get out, Carter,” Easton says, not once taking his eyes off me.

Carter smirks before he grabs Frankie’s hand and walks her outside.

“Hi,” Easton says.

“Hi,” I croak.

“What do you think you’re doing?” There’s amusement in his tone, but there’s also something else, something a lot more sinister than that. It makes my pulse knock against his fingers.

I swallow, struggling to find my voice. “What…what do you mean?”

Does he not want me here? Were Nate and Xavi fucking with me?

“Spreading your wet body out like that in front of my friends…” he says, his grip on my throat tightening. “Were you trying to make me jealous?”

Wrapping my hand around his forearm, I relax into his hold. “No.”

He tilts his head, skeptical. “Did you know I was watching you?”

“No.”

His other hand moves down between us, rubbing my now rock-hard dick over my shorts. “You weren’t touching this to try to get me to snap?”

“What? No, I was just…” Realizing he couldn’t see what I was doing with my hands with my back to him, I flick the drawstring on my shorts by way of explanation. “…thinking about you,” I finally finish. “Waiting for you to find me here.”

His body loses some of its tension as he takes a breath, his mouth close to mine as he exhales. “God, you make me crazy,” he whispers.

“What else is new?” I joke.

“Brat.” He squeezes my dick a little too roughly, and I shut my mouth, my hips bucking into his hand. He smirks, about to pull back, and I dig my fingers into his wrist, begging him with my eyes not to let go yet. His smirk grows, his fingertips brushing the underside of my dick above my balls, his gaze on my mouth. “Did you eat?”

A shudder rolls through my body. “I had a burger.”

His tongue pokes out to wet his lower lip. “Making yourself at home, are you?”

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