The Wild Ones (The Wild Ones #1)(39)
Author: M. Leighton

“Damn, why couldn’t you have waited just a couple more minutes?”

My eyes pop open and Trick is smiling down at me.

It takes me a minute to realize what he means, what he’s doing. Or not doing, as it were.

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t make the rules. I just work here.”

“That’s so mean!”

I’m almost trembling I want him so badly. And knowing that he’s not going to finish what he started only makes it that much worse.

“You’ll thank me later,” he promises, giving me a peck on my stunned lips and then reaching for my hand. “Come on. Let’s go check in and get some supper.”

I gripe as I let him pull me up. “Well, I’m gonna have to change clothes now.”

“And why is that?”

“These seem to have gotten a little…damp,” I tease with a wicked grin.

Trick throws back his head and laughs. I mean, really laughs. Like a belly laugh. “God, you really are awesome.”

I blush, but try to play it off. “I try.”

When I’m on feet, standing beside him in the V of the open car door, he takes my chin in his hand. There’s still the ghost of a smile flirting around his lips. “No, you don’t. You don’t even have to.”

********

After Trick checks us in, he carries our bags to our room. He lets me in first and then sets our stuff in the corner. When I turn to him, all I can think about is finishing what we started. But there’s a knock on the door that comes almost immediately.

Trick slumps. Comically. The postural equivalent of Damn!

I smile. He winks. Then Jenna intrudes.

“Hey, you two, get your asses to this door and let me in!”

“Is she going to be interrupting us all weekend?” Trick asks quietly.

I laugh. “Probably. And I blame you.”

“Me?” he whispers indignantly.

“Yes, you. It wasn’t my idea to bring them.”

“She’s your friend!”

“Doesn’t matter. I didn’t ask you to invite her.”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be. Throw me under the bus.”

“Yep. All the way.”

“You know what I do to people who throw me under the bus?” he asks, walking toward me like a predator stalking prey.

“Wave with your good arm?”

He stops and hangs his head. Then he laughs. “I give up. Let’s go.” With a grin, he grabs my hand and says in a louder voice, “Coming!”

“Ew! I didn’t need to know that,” Jenna replies.

“Jenna!” I cry.

“Hurry it up, girl. We got some freak to get on.”

The four of us go to eat at a little seafood restaurant with a great ocean view. I think it’s strange when Trick asks to sit beside Rusty, across from me.

“I want to watch you eat,” he says by way of explanation.

“No, that’s not going to make me nervous at all,” I tease. But I’m not teasing. Every sip of water I take, every bite of bread I nibble, I’m aware of him watching me.

When the food arrives, it becomes obvious why he did it. I ordered crab legs. He did the same. As we crack and eat them, stuffing tiny pieces of meat into our mouths and licking lemon butter from our fingers, it I realize how erotic it is to watch Trick eat, especially something so messy. Rusty and Jenna talk the whole time. Neither Trick nor I say much at all. We simply watch each other across the table, over our hands, from behind our napkins. We hold an entire conversation without ever saying a word.

The food is probably the best I’ve ever had, but I’m sure it has much more to do with the company than anything I actually ate.

I’m ready to go back to the room right away, but Jenna starts begging us to come dancing with them for just a little while. I really want to say no, but I reluctantly agree. She is my best friend after all. And she’d probably do it for me.

Probably.

So we go.

The bar is not much more than a loud, smoky hole in the wall. Like most establishments of its kind, it has a dark interior and throbbing music. We find a table and a busty blond, gum-popping waitress in a teeny tiny top comes to take our order. We all smile at each other, each of us probably thinking the same thing—Ohmigod, we’ve stumbled into a cheesy  p**n o!

Jenna speaks up before anyone else has a chance.

“Four shots of Patron.”

“You got some ID, Sweetie?” she asks in her Betty Boop voice.

We all produce our licenses and she glances at each of them. I’m pretty sure she can’t do the math without kicking off her stilettoes, but at least she asked, which no doubt makes the manager very happy.

“You want salt and lemon?”

“Yes, please.”

Her eyes make their way around the table, but she nods and winks at Jenna, watching her for several seconds before walking off to get our tequila.

“Ohmigod, have we stumbled into a cheesy  p**n o? I totally thought she was gonna offer me a lap dance or something,” Jenna says.

I laugh at her voicing my thoughts almost verbatim.

“I could never be that lucky,” Rusty retorts. Jenna playfully pokes him in the ribs.

“Watch it, buddy. You’ve got your hands full now, but that can change in a hurry.”

“Why don’t we go see what you can put in my hands to fill ‘em up?”

Jenna giggles and they start whispering presumably naughty things in each other’s ear. When the waitress returns with the shots, we all lick and salt the back of our hand. Jenna grabs her tiny glass and holds it up for a toast.

“To a wild weekend filled with wild horses and wild rides.”

The guys heartily clink their glass to hers. I roll my eyes. Jenna winks at me. She’s a mess.

She eyes my glass until I raise it as well. “To a wild weekend filled with wild horse and wild rides,” I repeat obligingly.

Jenna whoops and we all toast, lick our hand, down our shot then suck on a lemon slice.

“Another round,” she calls to the waitress.

Five shots later, Jenna raises her hand to get the waitress’s attention and I have to say uncle.

“Jenna, I won’t be able to walk if I do another shot. Just water for me.”

She tips her head toward Trick. “I have a feeling I know someone who would gladly carry you to your room and take advantage of that.”

The room spins lazily as I whip my head around to Trick and back to Jenna. “Dude! Are you teeing me up?”