Page 28 of Dirty Martini
He nods. “Exactly. But in this chart, your debit is what you’re liable for and your credit shows which account is going to fulfill it.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “Um, okay?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” he questions blandly.
My cheeks heat in embarrassment, and I chuckle. “It’s a bit confusing. Hell, how did you even know what it was?”
“Because I can read,” he scoffs, pointing at the open textbook. “It says it right there.”
That hits me the wrong way. I’ve always struggled to keep up in school, finding that it was hard to pick up new information. I had to bust my balls to graduate and damn near sell my soul to get into college. I was never Ivy League bound like Rhys and Elton, and I’ve never resented them for it until now.
“Well, if I’m such a dumbass, don’t bother helping me,” I snap, yanking my textbook away.
His eyes widen before they narrow. “Did those words come out of my mouth?”
But I’m on it and not willing to listen. I shoot up out of my seat. I should be smarter than this, more careful. He’s trying to make an effort here, but he’s making me feel so stupid, so inferior, and I… I can’t handle it. “You’re just a genius, aren’t you? So much smarter than the rest of us.”
“Calm down, Everest,” he warns, but I don’t listen. I just keep going, knowing I should keep my mouth shut, but doing the exact opposite.
“Rhys and his big brain. Too bad it’s busy rotting away slinging cocktails to drunk assholes.”
He scoffs, getting up and shaking his head. “Fine. I tried the nice shit, and it didn’t work. Go fuck yourself. You’re such an idiot. Enjoy flunking out of college.”
Spinning on his heels, he takes the stairs up to his room. His words linger with me, though.
The reminder that I’m completely in over my head rattling me enough to where I don’t get a single piece of work done for the rest of the day.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rhys
I’m exhausted.
Ladies’ Night is always a hit at the club, seeing as though we serve half-off specialty cocktails for singles, and it always leaves me dead on my feet. Considering that all the women came tomefor their drinks tonight—which pissed off Skylar and Britt—I’ve worked overtime. Thankfully, they offered to close the bar without me so I could go home earlier than usual.
I trudge my way through the living room as soon as the elevator opens, heading straight for the fridge. After Everest stole the good shit, I’ve been buying crap beer on the off chance he got sticky fingers again. Cracking open the can of something you might find at a frat party, I take a nice long sip. I debate going out on the balcony for a smoke but think better of it. Instead, I climb up the stairs and head straight to my room.
“Fuck…”
I stop in my tracks. Since I didn’t turn on the lights, all I have to guide me is the reflection of the Miami skyline from the window at the end of the hall. I wait a beat, wondering if I just heard that correctly. It can’t be?—
“Oh, fuck, yes.”
My suspicions are confirmed at the second throaty moan that comes from Everest’s room. His door is directly across from mine, and I’m about halfway to it. I know I should just march into my room and tell Everest to not be such a noisy fucker, but something stops me.
The question of who is in there making him feel like that.
I think back to catching Knox Sanders in his bed a few weeks ago, and unbridled rage fills me. It better not be him making Everest sound like he’s about to come. Protectiveness, annoyance, and worry all dance through my brain as I don’t think, just act, and walk to his door. It’s slightly ajar, and that’s the only reason I don’t go bursting in.
The other is because Everest is alone.
He’s completely naked on top of his covers, one leg bent and pulled up against his chest in a move that seems far too uncomfortable. But judging by his face, discomfort is the last thing he feels as he?—
My eyes lock on the sight of it. The sight of a bright green dildo fucking in and out of his ass. Because of the way he’s spread out and the layout of his room, I can seeeverything. I think my eyes might have even developed night vision because nothing is left to the imagination. His tight rim seems stretched to the brim, his little hole too small for the dildo pounding into it. My eyes finally snap up when he reaches a hand down to grasp his hard cock, tip glistening, the head red and swollen with the need to come.
His face contorts in nothing but bliss as he throws his head back, panting breaths leaving his lips. “Fuck, so good. Fuck me harder. Fuck my ass.”
Jesus Christ, Everest is dirty.
