Page 46 of The Late Hit
“Ladies, ladies, ladies. Let’s take this to another room.” He gestures toward the back room before turning to the bartender. “Kind sir, can we get two bottles of champagne and a bottle of tequila, please?”
I feel him before he speaks, his warmth spreading down my back, just as his hands run down my arms.
“Everything good?”
“Yeah, Q, everything is good.” I look at him before glaring at Madeline. “The fun is about to begin.”
We make our way to the back room, which is a smaller room down a hallway from the main room. This is the room all of us usually hang out in during these events, especially when we were underage. We’d sneak lots of booze from the bar, and someone would always pass out joints before we played games to kill time. Looks like we are reliving the past.
Tristan has gathered up some others so there is a small crowd around a table. Quinton pulls me in his lap to make more space. Someone turns on their phone, and a throwback hit starts playing.
“Alright, the game is Truth or Dare,” Tristan announces. “Rules are whoever is picked asks next. You pass, and you take a shot of tequila. Let the shit hit the fan, and let’s get fucked up.” He holds his drink in the air, and we all follow suit before taking a drink. “I’m going first,” he says, looking around the table before a slow smile spreads across his face. “Brinley, truth or dare?”
I set my hands on the table, palm side down as I lean over the table. My new position causes Q to hiss through his lips.
“Dare.”
He grins, leaning back in his chair.
“I dare you to go out and pinch the school board president’s ass.”
“Done,” I say, standing up and taking a sip of my champagne.
Swinging my hips, I head toward the door with Tristan on my heels to witness. Standing in the main room’s doorway, I quickly spot the school board president talking to a small group of people. He’s facing me, so as I make my way over to him, I make sure to sway my hips and nibble on my lower lip. Sliding up behind him, I pinch his ass as I keep walking, keeping my hips swaying. He jumps, looking over his shoulder. I can feel his eyes on me. I glance over my shoulder, making eye contact with him, before giving him a wink. His eyes darken as I saunter back to where Tristan stands.
“Damn, Brynn.” He chuckles. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Life’s too damn short,” I answer, making my way back to the group.
TruthorDarehasbeen going on for what feels like forever. Luckily, I haven’t been subjected to anything too crazy. This game seems to be a passive-aggressive way for the girls to work out their shit and for the guys to make the girls do slutty things. All I have to say is that Madeline is a real bitch. I’m waiting for Brynn to leap across the table and punch her.
A new, upbeat song starts playing on someone’s phone. Brynn’s body starts moving to the beat against my lap. Christ, it feels good. My feelings are getting harder and harder to hide. And speaking of harder, my dick is twitching, appreciating the attention Brynn is unknowingly giving it.
Settle down, man.
The beat drops and Brynn starts toreallyget into the song. Her pussy is hovering right above my dick.
I wrap my arms around her middle, pulling her back against my chest.
Leaning into her, I whisper into her ear, “Wilder, if you don’t stop moving that fine ass on my dick, I’m going to need a change of pants.”
Her breath stutters and her face blushes. Making her blush is my new favorite thing. I love watching her cheeks tinge pink. She shuffles to the side, her body seated on my leg and not so much in my lap. Then she looks at my crotch, and slowly brings her gaze back up to meet my eyes. Her blue eyes start to take on a navy shade as a blush highlights her cheeks again.
“Oh god, sorry about that. I didn’t realize—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupt. “I didn’t say I minded, just wanted to let you know that either I’m going to embarrass myself or we need to find a closet.”
She gasps, “Quinton?!”
“Um excuse me?” Madeline interrupts our thought. “You two need a minute to bang or are you ready to play?”
Have I mentioned how much I dislike this chick? The pink color spreads from Brynn’s cheeks to her neck. Before turning her face to Madeline, her eyes shooting daggers. Seriously, if looks could kill, Madeline would’ve been dead now ten times.
“I asked Quinton Truth or Dare,” Madeline repeats the question I never heard, too busy watching Brynn’s body twerk in my lap.
“Dare,” I answer, just as an evil smile takes over Madeline’s fake as fuck face.
She looks between me and Brynn.
