Kings of Quarantine (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #1) - Caroline Peckham ,Susanne Valenti Page 0,40

Tatum’s little miss innocent act in a spectacular way.

Hell, if I wasn’t going to fuck her myself, I could still watch the show for a while and get a real idea of what she’d be like.

Saint was still sitting on the other end of the couch as I approached but he got to his feet as the spinning bottle landed on him, completely ignoring the girl in question as she batted her eyelashes at him hopefully.

“C’mon, asshole, there’s something I wanna show you,” he said, jerking his chin to get me to follow him.

We circled the couch and Tatum looked up from her perch in Blake’s lap like she felt my eyes on her.

I gave her a taunting smile before letting my eyes slide down to her hardened nipples which were pressing through the thin dress now that she’d ditched the underwear. She slid off of Blake’s lap, holding a hand out to him as she made a show of not giving a shit about me one way or another. But that spark in her eyes said she gave a shit alright. She didn’t like to be made a fool of and for a moment I could have sworn she had ideas of revenge glimmering in those endlessly blue eyes.

Bring it on, baby.

Saint led the way out of the room and up the stairs to the balcony outside.

“Fuck off,” he snapped at a group of juniors who were hanging out here and they ran to do as they’d been told, flooding around us like a wave breaking over a rock.

The door fell shut behind them and we were left with the thumping bass of the music and an empty balcony.

“If you’ve brought me out here to suck my cock, then I would have preferred to do it in the warm somewhere,” I joked, taking a swig from my whiskey bottle as I moved to take a seat in one of the huge wooden chairs that sat on the balcony.

Saint eyed me for a long moment, his gaze slipping over my black jeans, leather jacket and the blood red T-shirt beneath it which had a tear in it. It was fucking perfect. Saint bait. He knew it. I knew it. A hole in my shirt. Classic.

He moved to stand over me, jaw ticking, gaze slipping to my drink with distaste. He’d given up on trying to stop me drinking from the bottle a long time ago but he clearly still hated it.

“Want some?” I offered, swirling the bottle so the amber liquid sloshed over my fingers. I licked that shit off quickly. Waste not want not.

“We need to talk about Blake,” Saint said, ignoring my offer as he took the chair opposite me.

“Is that so?” I asked, tipping more whiskey down my throat.

“He’s not dealing with his mom’s death,” Saint said.

“It’s up to him if he wants to bury it,” I said with a shrug. “And it looks like he’ll be burying it real good tonight,” I added with a dirty grin.

Saint’s gaze tightened at that suggestion and he blew out an irritated breath.

“A good fuck might distract him tonight, but it isn’t going to make any difference to tomorrow.”

“I guess that depends on how much energy she’s got,” I joked.

“Can you ever just take something seriously?” Saint growled, giving me the alpha vibes. But I didn’t answer to him. I might have fallen in with his shit most of the time, but that was because I gave no fucks about it. Didn’t make him the boss of me.

“What even is serious?” I asked. “I mean, we’re born, we cry, we lie, we fuck, we die. The rest of it’s just speed bumps along the road.”

“That sounded like the world’s shittiest poem spoken by the world’s most boring asshole,” he replied.

I cracked a smile at that. “Fine. What do you want to do about it? Hold a séance? Sing Kumbaya, My Lord every morning while holding hands in a prayer circle? Or do you wanna go really deep and ask him to talk to us about his feelings?”

“Fuck that,” Saint said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m not looking to waste my time on that shit. Blake can deal with his grief himself. What he needs is an outlet for his rage.”

I sat up at that, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees as I gave this idea my full attention. Crying and grieving and moping weren’t listed in my book of interests, but rage? I was all over that