Barbie Btch (Rejects Paradise #3) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,25
him and brushing my lips over his.
“I think you were about to show me that you're worth a hell of a lot more than 4 million dollars.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Only if you want it to be.”
“Well, damn,” I laugh, grinding against him and feeling his hardness through his pants. “Maybe we should take this upstairs instead. I’m going to need room to move.”
Colton’s brow raises and just like that, I’m thrown over his shoulder. He races out of his office and with a hard slap on my ass, he takes me up to his room and neither of us emerges until the sun is beaming through his bedroom window, our worlds have thoroughly been rocked, and we’re both utterly exhausted.
Chapter 7
I sit on the kitchen counter with my legs crossed under me, staring out at the ridiculously awesome pool that Charles was so proud of. It's a Saturday morning and for the first time in my life, I don't know what to do with myself.
My Saturdays used to consist of waking up hungover on one of the boys’ couches before spending the next hour regretting my decisions as I became way too familiar with the toilet bowl, and honestly, the boys’ toilet bowls are not something any woman should ever get that close to.
Colton woke up early, probably to work out and get a few hours logged in the office. Milo was out with someone last night who wasn’t me and is spending the morning in bed. Mom is busy putting together the employee schedule for this coming week, and the girls, I have no idea. Hendrix said something about some guy’s yacht and Jess practically drooled at the chance so I'm assuming that’s what they’re doing.
Maybe it’s time to broaden my horizons, maybe make a few friends so shit like this doesn’t happen.
Eh, fuck it. More friends equal more drama. I’m all good. I should probably go and grab a vacuum and spend the next few hours vacuuming every single room that surrounds Laurelle’s just to drive that bitch insane. Hell, maybe I’ll just turn it on and walk away.
I dip my spoon down into the tub of ice cream and slip it into my mouth, dying of satisfaction as my taste buds burst in excitement. There's nothing better than oreo ice cream. It’s simply the best thing that was ever created and I will fight to the death against anyone who even attempts to challenge that. It's a fact. Just like the earth is round, the sun rises in the east, Massimo Torricelli is going to be my baby daddy, and oreo ice cream is the best.
Hearing footsteps out in the hall, I dump the tub down beside me on the counter and jump off, landing wobbly on my feet after sitting cross-legged for way too long.
I hurry out into the hall and look out, expecting to see Colton striding toward me, only the noise is coming from behind.
My heart rate kicks up as I spin around and come face to face with Spencer.
There are only two rooms down that end of the hall—Colton’s home gym and Charles’ wine cellar, and judging by the grim look on his face, there’s only one place that he’s coming from.
He knows.
He knows what I did to Jude. He saw the cuts, the stab wound, the dried blood that sits beneath his nails. He knows what I did and from the dark flare in his eyes, he knows that I’m more than aware of where he’s just been, yet neither of us says a damn word.
It’s like a secret that sits heavily between us but neither of us is willing to admit it out loud despite knowing exactly where each other sits in this fucked-up situation, and I have a feeling that’s how it’s going to stay. Once something gets said out loud, it makes it real even though we’ve both seen things and done things that should never have had to be done.
Spencer silently steps around me and enters the massive kitchen and I find myself following, feeling a strange camaraderie floating between us. It’s a feeling that I’ve never really gotten with Spencer before. It’s as though all of a sudden, we’re in this exclusive, dark club together, one that’s hosted by Colton. I mean, should we all get matching tattoos now? Get branded and make a vow to take this secret to the grave?
Spencer scoops my tub of ice cream off the counter and leans back against it while