by Amo Jones
“Dad’s having a dinner?” I questioned absently.
“Yes, for the Oakley boys, and the other two.”
“Oh,” I replied lightly.
“This is perfect!” Indie clapped her hands beside me.
Oh no.
I shook my head. “Thank you, Paul. Please tell me you’re getting changed out of your work clothes first though.”
She laughed, bringing her hand up to her mouth. “Yeah, you’re right, dear, and stop with the Paul,” she replied, before making her way up the stairs.
When you walked in the front door, you were greeted by a twin stairway that led to the second level, which then took you to a third level as well. The cinema was on this floor, and the underground parking garage and basketball court could be accessed through here also.
“Let’s go.” Indie nudged me toward the long hallway that led to the indoor basketball court.
“Indie, no. Please! We will see them tonight.”
She shook her head, gripping her hand around my arm and dragged me down the hallway. “Jesus, you’re freakishly strong, you know that?”
She stopped at the door, pulling her hair down and fluffing it before pushing the doors open. “I know.”
I followed in behind her. The bouncing of a basketball thumped loudly against the court, sounding through the pure white walls, and the smell of sweat mixed with cologne was obvious. That was the smell of testosterone.
I turned around from shutting the door to find my dad standing there in his tracksuit. He looked good for his age, still sported a six pack and all that.
“Hey, baby, how was school?” he asked, walking toward me. I purposely ignored the four sets of eyes that were currently boring into me. Indie’s were too busy studying the man candy before us. They wouldn’t be on Leo, because he was seeing Indie’s sister, Rebecca. Becca was two years older than us, the same age as the guys. She was pretty much what you would expect in a big sister. She’d scream at Indie for wearing her clothes, but then wouldn’t let her leave the house looking like shit either.
“Hey, Daddy, it was good. Are we having a dinner tonight?”
“Yeah, hey, come meet the boys.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and walked us back toward them.
“Bryleigh, this is Ryder, Ryker, Leo, and Tommy. Guys, my daughter.”
I smiled awkwardly, tapping on my dad’s grip on me. “Nice to meet you,” I said to all of them politely, before my eyes landed on Ryker. His eyes danced with mischief. They held the kind of cocky glint that only came from a bad boy who relished in anything dangerous. I overheard my dad talking to my mom one night about Ryker. How he’d show up with swollen knuckles and bruises. It turned out Ryker Oakley also trained in MMA. Apparently, his goal was to get into the UFC. Yeah, that only made him more appealing with everyone at school.
His tongue darted out of his mouth and swiped across his bottom lip, his tongue piercing jolting in the movement. Yes, piercing. He has a lip ring, a nose ring, and tattoos that go on forever. I think he added to them every week—he has that many. His body was built lean, tall, and strong. His shoulders were always square with cocky self-assurance. Yeah, Ryker Oakley knew exactly what he brought to the table, and I had no doubt he could probably feast for days.
“Bryleigh?” My dad’s voice came back into earshot.
My head jolted toward him. “Yes? Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you’re staying in for dinner tonight,” he repeated, and my cheeks heated when I realized I might have just been caught ogling the school man-slut. My eyes diverted to Ryker and, sure enough, he sported a grin that could be seen from China. I brought my attention back to my dad while vowing to myself that I would not give Ryker that satisfaction again.
“Yes, we’ll be there. We have Matty’s party tonight too,” I said, peering up at my father.
He pushed his hands into his pant pockets, bringing his eyes down to mine. “Curfew. I mean it,” he said.
I nodded, nudging my head toward the door as I began dragging Indie out of there—along with my humiliation.
“Oh and Bryleigh?” he added, when we almost hit the door. I halted in my step, gripping onto Indie’s arm and silently praying he didn’t do something ridiculous or say something to add to my humiliation. “I don’t like Matty, and I don’t trust those boys, so I’ll be sending these guys with you to look out for you.”
My heart stopped. My palms itched with the sweat that had begun to form.
I turned around to my dad. “Why? We always go to Matty’s parties.”
He nodded his head, looking at Ryker briefly before bringing his eyes back to mine. “I know. Some information has come to my attention and I have changed my mind. It’s this,” he waved his hands, “or you can’t go.”
“Okay, fine.” I turned in my step and dragged Indie along with me. What the hell was going on with my dad, and why the hell was Ryker Oakley looking at me like this wasn’t the first time his shiny blues had landed on me?
My eyes followed Bryleigh’s fine ass as it walked out the door.
“Ryker!” Tommy’s voice snapped my attention back into zone, and when he threw the basketball at me forcefully, I caught it just in time before it hit me in the face.
“What?” I asked with a smirk.
“How’d you know what Josh said about Bryleigh?” he repeated.
I looked toward Victor, Bryleigh’s dad, and shrugged. “I heard it between a few people.”
Tommy’s eyes slanted. Shaking his head, he dribbled the ball between his legs and shot from the three-point line.
“Show off,” I yelled, taking a seat on one of the benches.
Tommy turned around and flipped me off, so I spread my index and pointer finger on either side of my lips and ran my tongue out nice and slow, dragging it in-between my digits. He shook his head. “Fucking perv.”
***
Dinner was a casual BBQ by the pool. Of course, there was nothing casual about this family. They were loaded with money, probably wipe their ass with hundred dollar bills—but their minds weren’t rich. They were not the kind of family you would’ve expected living a lifestyle like this. Bryleigh, I didn’t know about. She seemed like a spoiled brat, what with her shiny car and all her ‘Daddy eyes.’
But fuck me… if those eyes pleaded for something, I’d probably drop to my knees too. Until I scratched the itch, and then I’d let her out, the same way I would when I let the dog out to take a piss at night.
“Deep in thought, brother?” Ryder asked, with an eyebrow arched.
We’re identical twins. I hated it when we were kids, and vowed to myself that as soon as I found a way to be different from him, I’d do it. So, naturally, I got inked up as much as I could as soon as I hit sixteen—with the permission from my aunt. He had to go and get an arm piece, so I got more. Both my arms were covered, and I had one I was working on, on my neck. Eventually, my whole neck would be covered, along with a full jacket of tattoos. When he got a new tattoo, I’d get five, just to make sure we’d look different.
“When I told Victor about Jason’s plan for getting his ins with thy royal princess, I didn’t mean I wanted to babysit the kid,” I answered, leaning into my chair.
Ryder laughed, pushing the bowl of chips across to me. “That will be your own fault, what with your big mouth and all that.”
I laughed. “Yeah, probably.” Just as I brought my eyes up to the door, Bryleigh waltzed in with the hottest little get-up I had ever seen.
Holy. Shit. Banging Princess Monroe just moved up a few notches on my list of things to do.
We walked through the open floor-to-ceiling glass doors that led to our back yard/pool area, and when my eyes zoned in on Ryker, my body tensed. He was sitting with Ryder, both wearing aviators and sporting a smirk. Damn it all, if he wasn’t fine. Maybe I wouldn’t mind him babysitting me tonight.
After the long, dreaded barbecue my father insisted on throwing, we all jumped into Tommy’s truck and made our way to Matty’s
party. Indie and I started drinking a bottle of vodka on our way there, all while Ryker kept a watchful eye on me from his spot, which was between Indie and me.
“Are you going to be doing this the whole night?” I snapped at him, after the fourth time he glared at me.
He laughed, throwing his arms out wide over the top of the back seats. “Yep, and what’s better? I’ll be enjoying it.” He winked at me before moving his attention to Ryder, and they began talking about a song they were working on. I shook my head and looked to Indie, who had a shit-eating grin spread across her face.
“Don’t start,” I warned.
She laughed. “Okay, okay, I won’t.” She smirked around the rim of the expensive vodka, peering at me from the corner of her eye. She was totally going to start.
We walked into Matty’s house and I snatched a red cup on my way in, only to have Ryker remove it from my hand. “Uh ah princess, not today and not on my watch.”
My eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched. “Listen, you don’t have to mind me. I don’t need you to watch me, got it?”
I need you to just do me one little favor and take my virtue.
I think the vodka Indie and I shot back on the way here was beginning to flow a little faster through me, if I were judging by the way my cheeks flushed and my blood warmed.
He laughed, that same cocky glint shining through his eyes. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and my eyes followed the motion. Taking the cup back out of his hands, all while keeping my eyes locked on his mouth, I tilted my head. “Hmmmm,” I murmured, with the loud sound of Finger Eleven’s “Paralyzer” sounding through the speakers. I searched around the room, trying to figure out an escape plan. “Holy shit, has Stacey Howler got her tits out?” I lied to draw his attention away from me, so I could make a run for it.
His eyes stayed on my face though; he didn’t falter once. “Not going to work, princess,” he began, wrapping his fingers around my arm and pulling me into his hard body.
Holy shit. I needed to step away.
“All I see when you’re in the room… is you. And anyway,” he shrugged, folding his arms in front of himself and ignoring the shoving people coming through the front door, “I’ve had those tits in my mouth and they’re not that great.”
“Of course you have,” I answered dryly. “I need another drink.” I spun around on my heel and pushed through the massive amount of sweaty teen bodies that were dancing around, with the flicking strobe lights blinding my vision. When Three Days Grace’s “Riot” came blaring through the expensive monster sound system, I walked straight to the table, where Indie had her arms wrapped around Matty. Leo stood in the corner of the living room, watching her closely. I idly wondered where Becca was.
I pointed to her bottle of vodka. “I need it more. Hand it over.”
She laughed, passing it to me. “I think you do too,” she answered, waggling her eyebrows and looking toward the lurker standing behind me. Ryker nudged his head up to Matty, who instantly stood up straight in Ryker’s presence.
“Hey, dude.” Matty took his hand out to shake Ryker’s, but Ryker just nudged his head again in that way guys do.
Snob.
Fucking. Snob.
I took another long pull of the clear liquid until it began to lose its flavor and started to taste like refreshing drops of water, instead of the lethal potion that Grey Goose was. Lean, long fingers wrapped around my hip, and Indie’s eyes dropped down to them, her smirk deepening and her eyebrow cocked so high I could laugh. I did laugh. I was laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Ryker whispered into my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin and triggering a burn deep in my core. I almost wanted to turn around and wrap my legs around him so I could ride him like a bull.
I obviously needed to stop drinking.
I raised the bottle back to my lips and took another drink anyway, because apparently, I was a binge drinker. “I’m drunk.” I spun around, his face an inch away from mine and his grin deepening. I was in big trouble when it came to Ryker.
“What?” he asked, cocking his head and drawing his tongue out of his mouth to swipe over his bottom lip.
“There may be something you could do for me,” I slurred.
Shit, what was I doing?
“Oh yeah?” he asked, watching my drinking closely. “And what’s that, princess?”
“Stop calling me princess,” I snapped, and he laughed. I think he laughed. The room was beginning to spin. Goddammit, why’d I have to go and drink so much alcohol? I turned around and pushed the bottle into Indie, who was grinding her ass up against Matty right there for everyone to see, with the slow pounding beat of Pretty Ricky’s “Grind On Me.” My face scrunched and I turned my attention back to Ryker.
“Unless…” I smirked, gripping my fingers around the collar of his shirt and pulling his hard body up against mine. The heat he was creating began to seep into me. He went with it though, his body relaxed against mine effortlessly, like he was giving me permission to do with him as I pleased.
Something’s pulsing. Your vagina—that’s what’s pulsing, you whore.
I ducked my head around to his ear, and whispered, “As long as I don’t get fucked like a princess, I’m cool with it.”
Where in God’s holy name did that come from? The sober side of my brain was screaming at me to just, for the love of God, eat some bread and drink some water, but…
Oh, who was I kidding? There was nothing sober about me in that very moment, and my body wanted Ryker Oakley.
“One night. Quick and dirty,” I clarified smoothly. He’d be perfect.
His body stilled. Stiff. Rock-hard-everywhere. His hands gripped around my upper arms and pushed me backward while searching my eyes. I smiled what I thought was a very sexy smile, though I’m guessing I looked more like a drowned rat that had snorted too much cocaine after a drug binge night in Las Vegas with Johnny Depp and Benicio Del Toro, quoting, “We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers… Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls.”
“That’s it,” he answered, gripping around the bottom of my legs and throwing me over his shoulder.
“Oh, my God! Ryker!” I protested, banging on his back. “Put me down now!”
“No can do, princess.” He carried on walking through the masses, everyone praising him like he was Jesus him-fucking-self and had just walked across water.
This is what was wrong with humanity.
He walked through the open doors with a couple chuckles coming from the football team. “Nice, Ryker,” they said, patting him on the back.
I’m actually going to kill everyone. Kill them all.
The outside change of temperature hit me, shocking some sobriety back into me. He placed me back down on my feet.
“What the fuck…?” I began. My brain started to spin and the large bushes that were sitting at the end of the driveway began to hula-hoop around the place. Bringing my hand up to my eyes, I squeezed them shut. “Fuck.”
His arms wrapped around my waist as he pulled me into him and walked me toward Tommy’s truck. “Come on.” He opened the door and helped me up before shutting it and walking to the driver’s side.
“Wait!” I said, finally clicking on my seatbelt after four failed attempts at ringing the slot.
I would be a terrible male. Oops, up the bum, no babies.
“We have to sneak into the pool house. My dad cannot see me like this.”
He eyed me warily. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t see. Jesus, I never pegged you as the type of girl who partied like this,” he answered, pumping the clutch and putting the gearstick into reverse.
“Oh? And just how’d you peg me?” I tilted my head and ran my eyes over him. For the first time tonight, I could appreciate what he was wearing. Probably because he w
asn’t pissing me off. His hair was messy and disheveled all over his head. His eyes were a penetrating blue, the type of eyes that don’t look at you, but rather look through you. His jeans hung loosely around his hips, but not in a trashy way that showed everyone his briefs—I wouldn’t contest it if I were graced by the Oakley briefs though—but rather in a way that added to his swagger. His plain white tee hung off him casually too, and it worked for him. He didn’t need anything expensive or over the top; he was a perfect mess. I took in his piercings: the lip ring, nose ring, and although I couldn’t see it right now, I knew his tongue was pierced.
He drove forward out of Matty’s driveway and out toward the road that took us back to my house.
“Hadn’t decided yet,” he answered, smiling at the road ahead of him as he changed gears.
“Well, for the record, I don’t usually party like this. This was Indie’s idea.”
“You do everything Indie says?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow, swerving into the left lane.
“No, but she’s right about one thing,” I answered, resting my head on the cold window and watching the zooming lights and trees zip past.
“What’s that?” he asked. I could see him watching me every few seconds, all while keeping his eyes on the road.
“I need to lose the V-card stat!” I laughed, shaking my head. I figured, I pretty much told him to fuck me like a whore tonight, so he may as well know why.
He ran his hand over his chin, silently chuckling.
“Why are you—are you laughing at me?” I questioned, one eye twitching.
He threw up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, no, no, that’s not what’s going on.” His silent chuckles had turned into a full white teeth laugh.
“Stop laughing. Aren’t you a little surprised?” I asked, rubbing my sweating palms onto my little skirt.