Page 37 of Massacre Monday
“What are you doing here?” I protest, but he sets his bottle down and lifts the cup of wine to my mouth, pressing his lips to my shoulder.
“Eating dinner with my girl.” He says it so loud, Hunter glances up with a terrified look and makes some excuse before he and Chase Warrick hurry to leave. “What do you want, babe? Some gumbo with naan? Shrimp vindaloo?” Over my head, he yells to a younger looking guy with a backwards baseball hat who could be his twin. “Hey! Grab us some food while you’re up there. Get everything.”
An extremely large blond man takes Hunter’s spot and another Ryan look-a-like sits in Chase’s seat. The blond immediately starts talking to Amelia like they know each other already as the man with sharp features and an angry face glares across the crowd, seemingly looking for a person to kill.
I squirm on Ryan, trying to slide off, but he holds me firmly against his chest. As he leans his head to rest on my shoulder, the stubble of his jaw tickles my face. His voice lowers to a whisper. “Either you sit on my lap, or you sit on the seat next to me and give me a blowjob for everyone to see.”
My eyes widen, cheeks immediately flushing hot. “I’ll do neither.”
“You’ll do both if you don’t behave.”
Valencia, Logan, and Mitch return with a tray of drinks, but Mitch freezes at the end of the table as Valencia slides in and Logan sits next to her, striking up a conversation with the sullen man sitting across from him.
“Where did…” Mitch glares at Ryan, who finishes his beer, leans over, and sets the empty bottle on Mitch’s tray, grabs the glasses from it, and distributes them around to everyone sitting down.
“Hey, do us a solid and grab some more beers, little boy,” Ryan says to him, and the two hold each other’s gazes, but the man who looks just like Ryan tilts his head only slightly to enter Mitch’s field of vision. Mitch glances at him and takes two steps back.
“Sure. I, uh, can do that,” he says through a tight jaw, then hurries through the crowd.
What in the gang shit is this?
Logan pipes up and tells the guy across from him, “Aiden, don’t. He’s chill.”
Aiden snorts and murmurs, “Chilled in my freezer with his decapitated head on ice.”
Ryan’s chest vibrates as he joins in with a laugh, but there’s no levity behind it.
“I noticed you deleted our pictures from Pixtagram. But it’s okay, I started us a couple’s account. And a backup, if you block that one, too… Also made a few on other platforms.”
My stomach flips. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” His flat tone sends a shiver through my body. I believe he means it.
His palm slides from the table to my knee, and I quickly grab a breath as a shock of tingles surges up my spine.
Amelia turns to me and asks, “Pippi, do you know Landon Turner and Aiden Cardell?”
“N—” I begin to answer, but Ryan’s hand slips up my thigh and pulls it over his until I’m spread across his legs. “No.” I swallow and ignore how hard my heart is beating. Ryan’s brother’s eyes scan me, but it’s more as if he’s taking inventory than seeing me as a person. He’s terrifying.
Landon’s expression is like he found out a secret as he grants me a smirk. “Hey, Pippi. Nice to meet you, finally. Seen your pictureseverywhere.”
“Oh, um…” I’m not quite sure what he means by that, and it makes me uneasy, but my question halts when Ryan’s fingers slide under my panties and push them aside.
“Love this outfit, by the way,” he says. When he lifts me up to shift me to a more comfortable position, I get stabbed in the back by his stiff erection.
“I didn’t wear it for you.” Leaning to the side, I greet his alluring eyes with a glare. “You know, yourgirlfriendis my president, and it makes it pretty awkward to do this…inane tradition. I don’t like it.”
He chuckles and taps the end of my nose with his lips. “You seem jealous.”
My jaw drops. “I’m not— What the…”
The pad of his large finger pulses on my soaked clit as his middle one slides down my pussy to my entrance, threatening to intrude. “Your face is red. Are you sick? Need something to cool you off? Where’s your little boy with the drinks?”
I scan the restaurant, looking for him, just as Mitch leans around a crowd ofBetaguys and narrows his eyes at me and Ryan in the corner.
Ryan’s thick digit delves inside of me as his first finger tickles my sensitive spot in a series of circles that blur my vision with bliss. My back stiffens as I press against his broad chest, the warmth from our bodies spreading like fire over my skin. “You belong to me now.”
“I don’tbelongto any-any-anyone.” It should come out firm and strong, but he fucks me harder, then adds both as I writhe on his lap. “Fuck.” Nipples come to a point under my thin T-shirt, and resent the fact that I wish I had Ryan’s plush lips over them.
