Page 63 of Massacre Monday
“Yes, sweetie. Why, you could even be with a man like me. Powerful and rich. Would you like that? Do you think you could convince your parents?”
Fluttering my lashes, I don a kittenish expression to lure him into his next mistake. “You want towhatto me? I’m not understanding.”
He leans forward so he’s close to my face, then murmurs, “I want to lick your sweet, young pussy. Would you like that?”
“I-I’m not sure. I’ve never done that with someone. Do you want me to do something to you?”
“Sweetie, have you ever put your lips on a dick before?”
“N-no. I don’t think I’d like that.”
“Oh, but I think you would. It’s just like licking a lollipop. How about we venture out to the patio… Care to join me?”
His large body presses close to mine, and I think about breaking one of his fingers, but insistent hands interrupt us, holding two pink-colored drinks between our chests.
“Sorry, sir. I looked for your wife, but she disappeared on me. Here’s her drink, though.” Ryan’s smile could only be described asstar winning.
Senator Frances takes one startled step back, but hurriedly puts on a masked pleasant face and accepts the small glass. Ryan then grabs it again and shoves it at me.
“Oops! That one doesn’t contain alcohol. It’s for my underage sister.” Is it me, or is he talking very loudly? Other people near us seem to take notice of what’s going on in the middle of the dance floor and lean in to hear more. “Here, this one is your wife’s, well, yours now. Cheers!”
Ryan takes the sweaty double from me, clinks it to the senator’s, and tosses his back, then shoves the glass into Kier’s empty hand. Kier mimics him with his full drink to be polite, but it’s obvious the man feels as if the interruption was rude.
In a whirlwind of motion, Ryan grips my waist and swirls me around. It’s stilted, but the basic steps are there. And accurate. His hold is solid and steady. “I’ll dance with my sister,” he tells the senator, spinning us in front of the other political couples.
“How did you learn to waltz?”
His demeanor is easy, smooth. He’shappy, and the look he gives me reminds me of what Amelia said in the cafe that day. The way Ryan looks at me makes me feel powerful.
“Self-taught.”
“And when was this teaching?”
Blue eyes hit the ceiling as he holds back a smile. “Oh, a few weeks ago.”
“Since you met me?”
That alluring light in his eyes dazzles me as he lowers his gaze to my face. “Yes, pink cheeks. Since I met you.”
My breath catches, and for a moment, I can’t look away from him. His admission warms me until the emotion filling my soul makes my eyes tingle with tears.
He pulls me in tighter, then leans us into a deep dip, following my face with his. Hovering just over my lips, he glances at them only a moment, as if giving me an allowance to say no. But I don’t.
His taste is familiar now, comforting in a way, but still filled with fire. He’s letting me know this is just an appetizer. More is coming, and I best be prepared for it. The urgency of his tongue sweeping against mine draws me into a battle. Ryan likes to play. So my fingers delve around his neck and grip his hair there as we make out in front of the crowd of people surrounding us.
I’m dizzy and intoxicated by his scent, his presence. Even when he sets us upright and looks into my eyes for a good minute, I still need help maintaining my balance. My hands cling to his tuxedo jacket like a lifeline.
“Fuck! My sister knows how to kiss,” he yells to the crowd, who murmur whispered judgments throughout the room. My cheeks heat, but it’s more reflex than shame. I’m getting used to his chaos. Ryan smirks at me, slides his hand down my arm, grabs my fingers, and leads me from the room.
A commotion breaks out that has my steps faltering.
“No, come on. We need to go,” Ryan says, pulling on me with urgency.
As we exit into the hall, I look over my shoulder, where the senator stumbles backwards while clutching his chest. The audience retreats to give him space.
“He’s choking!”
“Is there a doctor?”
