Make My Move (Hannaford Prep #5) - J. Bree Page 0,81
as the eye of a storm. “It’s a decent Photoshop, I’ll give the kid that, but he’s picked the wrong position.”
I’m nowhere near that level of calm and when Darcy laughs, I lose my shit, and the only thing that stops me from choking the life outta him is Blaise body checking me.
I could throw him across the room to get to them but he knew that already. The move was more of a reminder to let our girl do her thing.
Fuck.
Our girl?
Jesus fucking Christ, no girl would sign up to deal with the three of us at the level we all so desperately want her, so I need to get that shit out of my head and fast.
“You’re claiming it’s a fake because you don’t fuck doggy style? That’s not good enough, babe.”
It’s a fucking beautiful thing, and I’m so fucking glad Blaise stopped me from ruining it.
Lips is faster than anything I’ve ever seen as she strikes, taking Darcy’s legs out and slamming her knee into his windpipe in a single move. I couldn’t recreate that shit even after all the hand-to-hand training I’ve done in my life and it’s killing me not to know all of the moves she has up her sleeve.
Her face is completely blank, a void until he’s gasping underneath her like he’s choking on his voice box now she’s knocked it three inches down his pathetic throat.
I fucking love this girl.
She stares down at him like death incarnate and I have to tell my dick to calm the fuck down because there’s never been a hotter sight before me. Fuck, this is better than porn. After she’s gotten her fill of his terror, she presses in close to him and whispers something I can’t hear.
He nods his head a fraction and she climbs off him, gracefully in a skirt like it’s nothing to her. Lance is staring at her in horror, finally seeing firsthand who he’s fucking with and maybe regretting his life choices.
His eyes flick up to us and he gulps.
I hope he can see the death I have waiting for him staring back at him.
Avery slaps a blown-up version of Lance’s fake-ass photo down onto the table in front of Darcy. He doesn’t look her in the eye at all, just nods along while he tries to suck deep lungfuls of air through his damaged throat.
Lips shrugs off her jacket, handing it to Avery, and then pulls her shirt out from where it’s tucked into her skirt. For one heart-stopping second, I think she’s going to strip it off as well and I’m about to murder everyone in the room but then she turns on her heel to face us, lifting it only far enough to show them her lower back.
I have no fucking clue what she’s showing them, other than the fact it’s obviously a scar or marking.
I can’t remember feeling anything when we’d made out but I’d been more focused on other parts of her at the time. I didn’t realize there was going to be a pop quiz and my fat mouth ruined it for us anyway. Well… that and the fact that she’s, you know, a fucking virgin.
Fuck.
Can’t think about that either, my dick should not be rock fucking hard at this kind of situation. Avery will try to force me into therapy again if she notices the tent I’m pitching.
“What the fuck happened to you?” hisses Darcy and that calms my dick down a little. Definitely a scar then, and by the flush on her cheeks I see before she spins back around to him, it’s one she’s self-conscious about.
“There’s your fucking proof. Are you satisfied?” she snaps back, and there’s no way Darcy is going to be stupid enough not to believe her. Sure enough, he stares at her for a second and then, with a glance at the three of us glaring behind her, he nods and shoots a glare at Lance, who’s backing away from us all like he can get away.
He isn’t getting away from us without medical assistance.
“No hard feelings, Mounty. I’m still up for it if you want to end this thing for real,” drawls Darcy and Lips turns on her heel, stomping out of the room like we’re all done here.
Ash, Blaise, and I don’t move a single fucking muscle.
Avery smiles at us all as she passes us, waving her phone and calling out, “I’d like a video of it. My Mounty will enjoy it once she’s feeling a