Page 76 of Rider Daddies
The feeling’s fucking mutual. I don’t know what it is with the middle child, but they always get their own way. People have been praising Ryder ever since he was fucking born. High school made him captain of the sports team, the cool jock that all the girls knew and loved, and it made me the indie loser whoaccessorized with a pair of headphones every day to block out the noise.
Ryder doesn’t know this because he was far too up his own ass to hear, but friends from his grade used to call me “mop.” My hair apparently didn’t fit the trending mullet that determined if a guy was going to be popular or not.
The bastard used to walk past me and pretend that we weren’t brothers.
He used to pretend like he didn’t even fucking know me.
It’s times like these when I question why the fuck I’m being so nice to him, letting him share and take what he wants, when everything he has ever wanted has been handed to him on a silver platter…for his entire. Fucking. Life.
This half-wit needs to learn to work for something.
I watch his gaze drift to the floor. If he even so much as picks up that needle and finishes inking his name into Lucia’s skin, it’s over for him, I swear to God.
It all unfolds in front of my eyes—Ryder squatting down to secure the cartridge in his hand, like it belongs to him. I wait for him to get close, inches away from Lucia’s ass cheek. Then, I barrel toward him and repeat the same thing, harder this time.
“It’s courteous to finish the job. We can’t leave it unfinished,” he insists.
“You justhadto get your name on there, didn’t you? If there’s a door, your foot is inside of it. I mean, fucking hell, you might as well drop your pants and piss on the poor girl, claiming her that way, asshole.”
Ryder looks at me, his body still against the wall from when I slammed him into it. He stares into my eyes and laughs.
God, this bastard knows just how to get under my skin.
“There’s a lady present in the room,” he says. “You really wanna do this?”
This fucker doesn’t need any more of my attention.
I turn to Lucia instead. She’s still sitting on the table, weirdly unfazed by it all. I locate her hands, and that’s when it all becomes perfectly clear.
Of course this is turning her on.
Three brothers bickering over her. I wonder if she was fantasizing about this back before she met us, when she was going to sleep beside boring Tristan every night, dreaming of a riveting bedroom experience.
Well,surprise, she has one now.
My Italian sweetheart.
Oh, the things I could do to her right now.
My heart isn’t beating with anger anymore…but something else. The rage, the thick blood running through my veins…all of it transitions to another powerful feeling.
And this time, I’m dead set on it leaving me with an orgasm.
I take a look at Mr. Sanctimonious Fuck on my left…
Spoiled half-wit on my right…
And then I go in to take the crown.
Signing my name on her ass doesn’t matter when I have her mouth on mine.
And oh, what a delicious mouth she has. Our tongues fight for dominance in one another’s mouths, our kisses hot and fervent—desperate to chase the high that has been teased in front of us for too long.
“Lie down,” I order, my mouth pressed to her ear.
She obeys in an instant, her hand going straight to my groin.
Fuck, it feels good to finally have some pressure there.
