Pretty Little Savage (Sick Boys #1) - Lucy Smoke Page 0,34
I'll stay out of yours."
Her throat moves around a swallow as I back up, letting her go. She practically sags in relief. At least, she should be relieved. She hasn’t yet pissed me off enough for me to actually show her what I can do. No, we’re just getting started here. I chuckle lightly, turning away and heading for the backyard. "Have fun!" I call back, stepping into the humid night air.
I pause and scan the nearby area. People pile together on the dance floor, grinding against each other in a drunken stupor. A few girls send me scathing looks. I reply with a quirked brow and a silent dare. Unsurprisingly, none of them take me up on the unspoken challenge.
Steam wafts up from the pool into the cooler air as bikini clad women drop down beside it, dipping their dainty toes inside as nearby guys with beers in hand watch on. I turn my head and freeze when my gaze collides with the asshole’s who brought me here. Dean's dark eyes glitter with some enigmatic emotion. Whatever it is, it stirs some of the lingering violence in me and makes me smile. I have to force my head away lest I fall into that gaze and drown in his darkness. I’m not quite sure how I know it, but I have this hankering suspicion that maybe… just maybe, I wasn’t completely right about these boys. They’re not boys at all, but men. And there’s a predatory depth there that tells me I should use caution. At the very least with Dean. Of them all, he seems like the largest threat.
The heat from the hot tub and pool drifts into the air around me. As I take a step away from the back door, I realize just how big this party has gotten. There are people everywhere. In the pool. On the dance floor. I even spot a few couples doing a bit more behind a pair of shaded palms across the way. I roll my eyes. This is more or less what I expected of a college party. It's unfortunate that I came here unwillingly, otherwise I might stay to actually have some fun.
That's out of the question though. I don't trust these motherfuckers and I'm not really in the mood to try. I cut left back towards the path I'd been led down before, wondering just how far of a walk back to campus I should expect. I'm halfway there, too, when a heavy arm drops over my shoulder.
"Where do ya think you're going?" Brax asks, bending low so that his head is next to mine.
"Back to my dorm," I say, reaching up to pinch the top of his hand and quickly remove it from my person.
He laughs, grabbing onto my waist instead, and swings me around. "I don't think so," he says, grinding on my front.
I arch my brow as he bumps against me to the rhythm of the music. "What are you doing?" I ask.
A grin spreads across his face. "Distracting you for a moment," he whispers almost conspiratorially.
"Wha—"
"Braxton!" The familiar voice of his friend—Dean—stops my next question.
Brax's eyes light up with mischief. I could've liked this guy, I think. Despite the slightly unhinged look on his face that I'm sure no one else can see. It's too fucking bad he's on the wrong side of this fight.
"Time's up," he says, giving me a wink. "Be good. Play the part and we'll lift your lockdown."
I roll my eyes. "Keep it or don't," I huff. "Makes no difference to me."
Brax looks at me and his lips twitch. “Funny,” he says. “I think you mean that.”
“I do,” I reply.
He just smiles at me then turns me around and shoves me into a pair of waiting arms. I grunt as I land against a broad chest. Fighting back, I push against it until I can look up and see who it is. Abel.
He doesn't look down, but instead begins to herd me across the patio space, through the crowds of people until we're at a platform I noticed just as I stepped outside. Where Dean stands like a waiting King.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” I ask as Abel palms my waist in much the same way Brax did. Abel doesn’t answer as he lifts me up. Dean catches me and sets me next to him.
“Don’t say a fucking word,” Dean orders.
“I’ll say whatever the hell I want.” The words are out of my mouth, an automatic response,