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“Nice to meet you,” she replies.

Rylee puts her drink to her lips, and I want to taste them so badly right now.

“You want one?” Rylee asks before placing the glass on the table.

“No. I’ll drive.”

She nods, which makes Shandy lean in close to Rylee. They think they’re whispering, but they aren’t, and I can hear every goddamn word.

“Is this your new flavor? Because he’s way better than that other asshole. He won’t even look at me. That man only has eyes for you.”

I try not to smirk at her words.

“He’s my new dessert. Yes.” She smiles, and then she winks at me before picking her glass up again and finishes off her drink.

“Hey, you’re not Anderson. Who are you?” a guy who’s clearly older than me turns and says.

Rylee answers before I can, “None of your business, Benji. Shouldn’t you be at home already?”

“If you weren’t the boss’s daughter,” he says, shaking his head and lifting his beer to his mouth to obviously stop what he was about to say.

“Yeah, you would what?” she fires back, her elbows lean on her bare knees.

I want to pull her back before his eyes fall to her cleavage—that pair of tits are hard not to stare at.

“Never mind,” he mumbles.

Rylee drops a hand on my knee, turns back to her friend, and starts talking. Her hand begins to slide up my leg, and I have to place my hand on top of hers to stop it. Giving it a squeeze, she chuckles.

“I’m getting a bit tired. Do you want to go?” Rylee asks, her voice dropping down to a sexy whisper.

“You’re drunk.”

“I like sex when I’m drunk,” she says louder than she intended, making everyone’s eyes fixate on us.

I stand and reach for her purse, then guide her outside.

She giggles as we head out, then she grips my ass in her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she says, then leans on me.

“Always?”

“Yes. From the first day I saw you walking the halls of our school.”

I stop and lift her chin with my finger. “You’ve wanted me since high school?”

Her eyelashes flutter before she licks her lips. My eyes drop straight to them. They’re pinker than usual tonight, and I wonder what they taste like again.

“Every girl wanted you.” She’s breathing quite heavily, then she steps forward, putting no distance between us, our bodies touching. “And now, I have you.”

Wrong. Oh, so wrong.

I step back and unlock her car, opening her door so she can slide in. She’s confused, I can tell by the tilt of her head, but she soon shakes it off.

Driving her back to her place, she stares at me the whole drive but doesn’t say a word until we arrive.

“You should come in. Stay.”

“No. I have work to do.”

“Come.” Her hand slides over my jeans and onto my cock. “I’ll make it worth your while.” I glance at her hand and then back to her dark soulless eyes. They’re glassy tonight.

“No. Do you need me to walk you inside?”

She pulls her hand away like it’s on fire. “No! I know how to get in.”

I stay seated in her car. Pointing to the keys, I ask, “Which key do you need? I’ll bring the car back in the morning.”

She nods to the right one then gets out.

When she reaches the door, I wait for her to step inside. Her eyes find mine, and I don’t leave until the door is shut.

“She’s still asleep,” Noah says, opening the door to Rylee’s apartment the next day. I hand him the keys. “You took her car?”

“She was drunk.”

He nods in understanding. “Look, it’s not my place, but with what’s going on, you two seem to be spending plenty of time together.” He has a firm grip on his coffee.

“You’re right. It’s not your place.” He nods and accepts my answer. I like Noah. He’s treated me with more respect than most people have my entire life.

But this part of my life—what I have with Rylee—I don’t share with anyone. Because let’s face it, even I don’t know what it is yet.

How can it even be anything?

She’s a rich girl wanting to fuck a bad boy.

The problem—it’s explained as easily as that.

My problem—I let her because her rich girl pussy is fucking dynamite.

Explosive.

Like a fucking deer caught in the headlights.

And I can’t seem to walk away.

“Do you need a lift back home?” Noah asks.

I rub the back of my head. “Actually, I need a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow a truck? I need to get wood.”

Noah doesn’t say anything. He simply walks away, then comes back with his keys in hand. “It’s new, don’t fucking ruin it,” he states as he passes them to me.

“Thanks, man, I appreciate it.”

Noah nods his head and turns to shut the door.

Quick stepping it to his truck, I hear my name called, “August.” Turning, I see Rylee standing there, her dark hair stuck to her face, but she’s still dressed in the same stunning pink dress she was wearing last night.


Tags: T.L. Smith Wicked Poison Erotic