Page 19 of Wicked Deceit
So not a biblical reference, although it could probably take me to heaven. My eyes widen, and I hide my phone from the prying eyes around me. I shouldn’t have looked it up in public. The other people behind me could have seen the piercing on my phone. I need a safe search next time I’m in public, especially lookingTHATup.
I whip my head towards Carter, immediately seeing it on him first. But does his baseball bat need that many bars in it? Yes. The answer is yes. The perfectly placed bars form bumps, providing the ultimate pleasure. Holy fuck. It’s the crème de la crème of dick piercings. Fuck the Prince Albert, give me a—
“Holy shit, no!” Chase hisses, bringing his hands to cover junk. “No way in hell is someone spiking little Chase with—” His eyebrows furrow as Zepp sighs, leaning in again and whispering more. “Shit! Twelve studs? Seriously?” His gray eyes widen. “Who does that?” he hisses, clutching himself again.
“Eh, wouldn’t be too bad,” Seger shrugs, devouring the rest of his food in one bite. Bits of mayo, ketchup, and mustard sit on his smug-looking lips as he licks his fingers. I'd be impressed with his skills if it weren’t for the exhaustion pulling at my muscles. “Besides, think of how it’d feel for Kaycee,” he says, extending his tongue out to lick his finger again—exaggerating the movement to pull my eyes towards his lapping tongue.
On second thought, yeah, think of how it would feel for me! So, Carter can get a vibrating tongue ring. And Seger can provide the extra pleasure with a new dick piercing. I blink, looking between the boys, and nod.
“If you’re so brave, you do it,” Chase says with a taunting look, leaning against the table.
“Fine,” Seger says with a shrug. “Let’s do it.”
“Fine,” Carter says through an evil-looking grin. “I have an appointment on Saturday for a touch-up on my sword. I’ll pull some strings and get you an appointment, too.”
Seger freezes, biting into his lower lip. A faint flash of fear spears through his eyes, but he shakes it off and shrugs.
“Cool,” he says, taking a drink, and then flashes a grin at me. “Angel, will you hold my hand?”
I raise a brow, and my lips pop open. “Uh, sure,” I huff.
“Will you hold my hand too, Vixen?” Carter rumbles, rubbing his foot against mine under the table.
My cheeks heat at the thought of both their dicks getting worked on simultaneously, and a whimper falls from my throat.
“Yes,” I rasp.
“You’re seriously going to let some strange dude put a needle through your dick? Multiple times? Like, impale it over and over?” Chase asks again with wide eyes, imagining the picture. He shakes his head, looking down at the food on his plate. Instantly, he shoves it away with a frown, turning a sickly shade of green.
“Pain is pleasure or something like that,” Seger waves off his comment like it’s nothing, not even cringing at the thought of needles piercing through his most sensitive area and… Wow. All his fear is gone and replaced with his usual cocky confidence. We’ll see how confident he is come Saturday.
We all straighten and pretend to talk about school when my mother stiffly returns to the booth and shoves her phone back into her purse. She picks at her salad, staring intensely into the green leaves, before shaking her head.
“What are you boys up to for Thanksgiving next week?” She asks in a soft voice, looking at each of the boys.
Chase swallows hard, turning to look in the other direction. “Ah, I usually have a big meal with my dad and sister, Ainsley, but not this year.” He clears his throat, shuffling in his seat. “We’re traveling to my grandparents’ house in Louisiana.”
My mother gives him a small smile, reaching over to clasp his hand. “They will love to see you. Whatever is going on with your dad, I know he’s a good guy. Keep the faith, okay?” She says, squeezing his hand, and he brightens up.
“Thanks, Mrs. C,” he whispers when she retracts her hand, and his shoulders sag with small amounts of relief.
“And you?” She asks Carter, whose eyes dart to me and back to her.
He swallows hard. “Dad and my stepmom are throwing a big dinner for the police department.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, adjusting his posture.
I raise a brow, tilting my head when our eyes meet, and he quickly darts his eyes away. Yeah, I’ll revisit that scenario later and see what he has to say for himself.
“We rarely do anything,” Seger says, leaning his chin on his hand.
“Yeah, usually low-key. Our chef makes an enormous meal, and we come and go as we wish. But our stepmom rarely celebrates,” Zepp adds.
My mom smirks. “Then join us,” she says, just as I take a drink.
The pop I just drank splashes up my nose, and I gag and cough.
Seger snorts. “You sure? I mean, it’s really nice of you, Mrs. C, but...”
“Nonsense,” she says, waving a hand. “If I didn’t want you boys there, I wouldn’t have extended an invitation. And don’t worry, I’ll keep my husband in check. You’ll be fine.” Seger pales, eyes widening as he stares at me silently begging for help.
