Page 10 of Fatal Collision
I start to argue, but he turns and walks out, leaving me to pick up my fractured sanity on the floor.
FIVE
KANE
“Well, thank you, beautiful.” Maverick slides his Ray-Bans off and flashes his most flirtatious smile at the servant, who’s putting a tray of cold drinks on the table between our pool chairs. “I love a wet refresher.”
Her cheeks turn bright pink when he winks, and she hurries back into the house with a nervous glance in my direction. Maverick watches her leave, craning his neck as she looks back at him.
“Stop flirting with the staff,” I grumble when he lies back on the sun lounger.
He laughs, sliding his shades back on. “She’s into me.”
The fucker sounds so smug.
“She’s not into you. She’s into your money.”
“Potato, potahto.”
I delete some girl from my contacts when she sends me a picture of her naked rack before reaching for acold drink and removing the toothpick I’ve been flicking between my teeth. The only reason I kept her number was because she gives one hell of a blowjob, but she’s desperate as fuck. And I’m bored. “You’re not fucking my staff.”
“Who are we not fucking?” Cash asks as he joins us and slowly lowers himself down on the sun lounger. He’s dressed in his lime green swim shorts, the ones with pineapples.
I scoff and shake my head, convinced he does shit like this to wind me up. “What the fuck have you got on?”
Our sisters squeal and laugh in the pool while Cash squirts out a big glob of sun lotion and slathers it on his tanned neck and shoulders. “What’s wrong? Does the bright color offend your delicate senses, Kane?”
“How did we come from the same womb?” I mutter, grimacing at the lemonade, which tastes too weak.
“You need to learn to relax once in a while. Have a little fun.” He lies back and props his arm behind his head, face tipped toward the sun. “Back to the question. Who are we not fucking?”
Maverick ruffles his dirty blond hair. “That young servant with the southern accent.”
“Ashley? Yeah, I fucked her this morning, and last night.” My brother taps his lips with a finger while he pretends to think. “Now that I think about it, I railed her the day before that and the one before that, too.”
Of course, he’s been screwing her. The prick sticks his dick in everything.
Since I’m used to his fuck marathons, I didn’t bat an eyelid last night when his headboard banged into the wall for hours. A woman was moaning and squealing loud enough that I contemplated walking in and shoving a fucking sock in her mouth, just so I could concentrate on my five-thousand-word essay.
I put the drink back on the table and bite down on the toothpick, using my tongue to flick it between my teeth. There’s no point calling him out on his behavior, because I know why he does it, even if I handle my own trauma differently and want to smack him over the back of the head most of the time.
It’s not like I’m a monk. Fuck that. I need a release once in a while, too. But the kind of sex where I don’t remember her name the next day and don’t care to see her again? I’m over it. Besides, most of them, if not all, throw themselves at us because they want the status of dating a founding father’s son.
“You’re disgusting,” our sister Lily says, towel wrapped around her waist, her hair pulled to one side and dripping with pool water. “Women aren’t objects. You know that, right?” She looks at me next and frowns. “Why are you fully dressed? It’s like a million degrees Fahrenheit outside.”
I remove the toothpick. “Why don’t you just go back in the pool with your friends? I’m sure we can find some inflatables for you to play with.”
She flips me off, holds her towel close to her chest and helps herself to a drink. Maverick’s younger sisters, Aurora and Hazel, are here, too. It seems our house is the most popular one to hang out at because of the huge pool. Everyone here has a pool in their backyard. Don’t get me wrong. But ours was featured in a magazine once because of how luxurious it is.
Dad likes to show off his wealth.
“Ignore him,” Cash says. “His skin is precious, and he’s worried he might burn.”
Lily fights a smile and puts the drink back down when Noah and his sister, Robyn, step out of the house. There’s a splash and a loud squeal, and Hazel and Aurora run to Robyn to give her a wet hug.
Why are girls always so loud?
“This was just posted in the group,” Noah says. He swaggers up to us and hands his phone to Cash, who reads over the text then shoots upright with the widest fucking grin.
