After a bit of hesitation, she grabbed it, unscrewed the cap with her perfect little hands, and tilted the bottle back.
A groan made it past my lips before I could stop myself. Her throat, working that whiskey down. Fuck me. Imagine if it was something else she was sucking.
And then I couldn’t get the image out of my head.
And then I hated her for it.
Claire would be so ashamed of me.
Of my behavior.
My heart pounded with rage.
“Enough!” I barked. “I don’t want you completely wasted, and you’re a quarter of my size.”
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Valerian grinned at her. “I’m impressed. You didn’t even choke.”
“I just swallowed.” She shrugged.
I groaned into my hands. Why the hell was I shaking? “Swallowing is good.”
“You okay?” She asked in her sweet innocent little voice.
“Yup.” Nope. “Perfect.” I stood, “Let’s get this over with so he can go sleep with my sister.” I just shook my head. I would never get over it.
I snapped my fingers at her. Didn’t she know that meant to come?
She put her hands on her hips.
“What?” I growled. “You. Here. Now.”
“Say, please.” Her voice trembled.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief second, then stomped over to her, wrapped my hand around her hair, and tugged her against my chest. “Please.”
Her lips parted.
I pulled her hair a bit harder.
Her lips parted more, her eyes grew hooded.
I kissed her.
It wasn’t a nice kiss. It wasn’t a kiss you tell your friends about. It was dominant. Mean. It was a kiss that bad men give bad women because they know that the kiss means nothing.
It wasn’t a kiss she deserved.
But I did it anyway.
Because I was pissed that she looked pretty.
I was enraged that I couldn’t stop looking at the innocent sparkle in her eyes when I might as well have blood on my mouth like my hands.
She tasted like the light I used to have.
And I hated her more for it than she would ever know.
The fire in my soul fanned into an inferno of need for something I no longer experienced—something that felt good.
“Well.” Valerian cleared his throat. “Maybe be less angry, Ash, or at least look less angry. And, Annie, I’m pretty sure that’s not your first kiss.”
I almost shoved her away. My fingers shook with the need for violence as I dropped her hair and stole the bottle of whiskey from Valerian, then downed a few shots.
I slammed the bottle back on the table, grabbed my phone, and texted my dad.
Me: I may be drunk and making bad choices. Is Mom cooking dinner? I stole one of “Valerian’s” old whores.
Scary Dad: Son. I’m home in ten minutes. If you as much as let one of those women into this house, I’m waterboarding you… because I can and because Mom is cooking, and I would kill you for more helpings. I’m a good dad like that.
Me: Oh Dad, I’m not an idiot… she’s not in YOUR house.
Scary Dad: Nine minutes. I know you’re… I know you’re upset, but fucking random girls who want you for your money—not a good call.
Me: Dad, don’t be ridiculous. They want me for my cock.
Scary Dad: If she’s there when I’m there, I’m going to do more than waterboard you. I’m going to turn you over to Mom. Now, who’s cocky?
I actually shook a bit as I typed my response. “Valerian, you owe me more than you will ever know.”
Me: Okay byeeeeeeee
Scary Dad: Ash?
I grinned at the phone but made no move to answer.
Scary Dad: ASH!
And then.
Scary Dad: Seven minutes, I decided to speed.
“Shit!” I dropped my phone on the table and grabbed Annie’s hand. “Okay, man, he’s going to come out here from the garage. Sneak in through the kitchen. If my mom sees you, just give her the eyes and beg—if you must, on your knees. Run up the stairs and let Violet do the rest.” My heart was racing. Why the hell was my heart racing? “Oh, and hide in the bushes by the sliding glass door. He hates those bushes a spider that lived in them bit him once—”
“If a spider bites my ass…” Valerian jabbed a finger at me.
“You’ll live,” I bit out. “Now go, he’s probably almost here!”
“And you.” I tugged Annie toward the door with me. “I hope you’re ready to get wet.”
Her eyes widened. “Wh-what? Wet? Why would I?”
I turned, slowly, and licked my lips. “The real question is, why wouldn’t you when you’re with me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I thought—”
“That’s the problem.” I pulled us outside; she stumbled behind me. My grip on her wrist was probably too hard, but I was too frustrated to care, too confused, and not as numb as before.
I hated it.
“Stay.” I put her right next to the pool, ran behind the wet bar we had there, grabbed another full bottle of Jack Daniels, popped it open and took another swig, handed it to her, and made a hurry motion.