Three teenage Wild Ones.
Instead of dwelling on Benson issues—which are weird and untimely—I move to the edge to watch as my brothers yelp when they crash into the cold water. A grin beams across my face when they start swimming as fast as they can.
Pride, of course, has them hoping to make it to the other side of the lake before they have to be hauled out.
Man cards will be deducted authenticity points if they have to be pulled out. And they’re Vincents, after all. The dead chipmunk flag flies on our corner for a reason. They have a reputation to uphold.
Benson and Liam follow behind them, and I ignore Paul when he asks me what I’m doing later.
It’s just a pair of shorts. I’ve worn shorts before. Maybe not shorts so thin, but still…he’s a weirdo.
I revel in the misery of my brothers as their whimpers echo back to me, and I grin in delight when they start swimming faster. I think I see their teeth chattering.
“My balls! They’re trying to burrow up inside my stomach!” Hale groans.
“Mine are too numb to move. I’d better not lose them,” Killian gripes.
“I better go get some clothes before they get back and kill me,” I say to no one in particular, racing toward my cabin.
Running, though hated, is once again necessary. I quickly pack a few things, panting the entire time, and then dart out to realize…my boat is at Benson’s.
My eyes dart over to where my brothers are almost to the other side. Damn, they’re fast.
I race back to Aunt Penny’s, and I jog inside to go change. And to hide. As soon as I’m done changing, I borrow the keys to her Jeep, and drive to town. Kylie Malone lives in town, and I run the chance of her being home.
Fortunately, her green beaver flag—ha, no, don’t make this dirty—is flying, and I blow out a breath of relief as I park and race up her steps.
“You’re missing all the fun,” I say through her door when I see her walking through her house with paint all over her—per the usual this past year.
“I heard the beard challenge is over!” she says around a cheer. “Dad swung by to inform me this morning. But your brothers are going to kill you.”
I push through the door, joining her as she starts to paint a sculpture, and keep all my inner thoughts about Benson to myself.
I fill her in on the near-ice-tits encounter I had this morning, and she listens and laughs at my expense. I love our friendship.
“I’m not really sure what it means for the town,” she says, distracted as she moves an errant curl away from her face to see better, before she dabs some red on the face of her sculpture.
“It means all those ‘Fear the Beard’ campaign slogans are no longer important,” I joke.
She flashes a grin. “It’ll be neat to see what the guys actually look like. I haven’t seen a face since they hit puberty, for the most part. My dad’s beard is so bad that he has to braid it when he’s working to keep it out of the machines. And watching the men in this town eat…ew…”
I nod, wondering idly if Benson will lose his beard. And don’t announce aloud that I kind of don’t want him to.
See? I’m sick or something.
Maybe it’s the weather.
I’ve always been drawn to his voice. Always loved the way he smelled.
But until straddling him all night, I never thought about stripping him naked and having my way with him. Okay, so the thought has crossed my mind, but right now it’s like it won’t leave my mind. And that is a first.
“What’s on your mind, Lilah Vincent?” she asks, and I sigh.
“Beards.”
Chapter 5
Wild Ones Tip #469
You have to be crazy as hell if you think you can hang with the Wild Ones. It’s rare we ever do anything the easy way.
BENSON
Slightly annoyed, I glance out the window again to see there’s still no sign of her before I step into the shower.
Damn Liam. Damn beard challenge. Damn Vincent brothers.
I woke up wondering if I was fucking dreaming this morning when she was straddling my dick like it was her job, all mussed and flushed on top of me. It was so surreal that I thought there was no way it was actually happening. No way she ground herself against me like she was in as much pain as I was.
I almost—almost—pulled those little shorts to the side to show her what she’s been missing all this time. It was a tortured moment of indecision, because shit could have gotten awkward real damn quick.
Then fucking Bill called.
Damn dead chipmunks and their level of crazy. Lilah’s crazy as hell too, but she’s also my crazy girl. She never dates the cuntwads her aunt brings to her like plated edibles.