Lakyn turns his body slightly enough that he’s still partially directing his words to the banshees, but he can see me and this Ichabod guy.
When his eyes settle on me… when I finally see the face of the man that’s haunted this entire trip in the fucking flesh for the first time… I find myself wiping away an angry, lone tear.
All this time, I thought this had been some kind of a sick joke. That someone had found a man that looked like me and taunted me to the point that I would have either changed my phone number or even gotten a new e-mail address, but I called their bluff.
I called everyone’s bluff.
And as Lakyn Meyer drops his hands to his side and stares at me, I wonder if I did the right thing.
Especially when he looks at me with a little bit of shock, a whole lot of curiosity, and then a grin that takes over half his face.
It takes no more than thirty seconds before he’s standing right in front of me. My fists are balled at my sides in anger, in hope, when he shakes his head and lets out a friendly laugh.
“What do we have here?”
THIRTY
A Stripper Would Have Been Better
LAKYN
"Girls, come on. If you’re going to fight in the street, may as well fight inside where I can enjoy it." I turn on my charming grin, spreading my arms as they stop glaring at each other long enough to look at me. These two chicks look like they're about to tear each other the fuck apart, and that's definitely a party I want a front row seat for.
"Sounds great," the blonde one says, sneering at the other one, and I fight the urge to yank a fistful of that golden shit out just so she remembers who the hell she needs to be paying attention to right now, and it's not the little redhead wearing a smile that makes me think of those creepy dolls people used to collect.
"Sure," the redhead replies, and I clap my hands together loud enough to make them both jump and look at me again. They both smile, and I don't blame them. I'm pretty damn nice to look at, and I'm glad they recognize it.
"Perfect. Then why don't we go—"
“Lakyn! You’ve got company!” Ichabod shouts at me from the front yard, and I glance back over my shoulder just far enough to see what the hell is so important. There's a dark-haired kid standing next to him, wiping at his face, and I don't know why Ichabod thinks this little asshole is worth interrupting me when I've got two party favors that just delivered themselves to my goddamn doorstep.
Pausing that thought, I turn back to the girls to finish my sentence. "—inside and get comfortable before you tear each other apart. I'm just going to go handle something. Why don't you grab your shit and come on in?"
Whatever the two teenage chicks say is clearly not important enough for my brain to pay attention, but the look of adoration in their eyes is exactly what I need today. A nice little ego boost to get over Ichabod's weird fucking attitude. He's been twitchy all damn week, and I haven't even fucked him that hard or choked him out on my dick. I've beenrealfucking nice, and he's over here picking up strays off our doorstep.
Winking at the girls, I turn around and face Ichabod again, dropping my arms to my sides as I watch the kid that's staring at me like I'm the goddamn second coming. Although, something about him does seem... familiar, and as nervous as Ichabod looks, I have a feeling this is going to be a lot of fun. I grin, and it only stretches further as I head across the street and right up the walk to get a better look at this little asshole.
He's got his hands fisted so tight at his sides that if I handed him a piece of coal he'd probably pop out a fucking diamond but, nervous or not, he's not bad to look at. Nice mouth, nice body from what I can tell under the rumpled clothes, and I wonder what exactly it is about this kid that has Ichabod looking like he's about to piss himself.
Shaking my head, I start to laugh as I turn my gaze back to the kid. "What do we have here?"
Tilting my head, I look him up and down, but the kid doesn't say a thing. I figure he's just overwhelmed by the sight of me, which happens more often than you might think. I've been told it's just my aura, or my charisma, or some fucking thing like that. But, since the kid is dumbstruck, I turn my focus to Ichabod and let my grin stretch when his shoulders cave in slightly.
"Ichabod... did you get me a stripper for my birthday?" I ask with a chuckle, watching him and the kid turn red as Ichabod starts nodding.
"Yeah." He nods some more, like a fucking bobble head that got smacked hard. "Yeah, I did."
"Fan-fucking-tastic! Let's go inside then!" Turning, I see the girls coming up the sidewalk, bitching at each other like a pair of fucking cats trapped in a bag. I hear the door open behind me and Ichabod leads our first piece of entertainment inside while I wait for the second course. "Come on, you don't wanna miss the show."
They go silent to look at me again, the blonde one narrowing her eyes at me, and it's so damn tempting to pluck one out so she doesn't forget that the only reason I'm inviting them in at all is so they can look at me with awe while I get a lap dance. I don't know what's gone down between them, and I don't really care, but if they're going to start clawing and ripping each other's clothes off, they might as well entertain me with it—after the kid anyway.
Holding the door open like a real fucking gentleman, I let them walk in ahead of me, noticing the grungy clothes and dirty backpack on the redhead and the designer labels with accompanying designer purse on the blonde. That is a weird fucking pair to be running around together, but hopefully that just means the fight will be that much more fun to watch. The winner might just get to ride my dick before I slit her throat to stop the fucking bickering.
Rolling my eyes, I slam the door and follow them into the living room. Ichabod is standing a little behind the kid who's staring at me again, but I understand how impatient he is to start. I snap my fingers and point at the couch, glancing at the two girls. "Sit the fuck down and shut up so I can enjoy my striptease."
"Lakyn—" Ichabod starts, but one flash of my grin and he goes quiet.
"Don't spoil any more of my surprises," I tell him, and he knows me well enough by now to know that means he won't be spoiling any ofmysurprises for them either. Dropping into my chair, I clap my hands and turn all my attention to the kid. "Well, go on. Dance for me."