Pretty Little Savage (Sick Boys #1) - Lucy Smoke Page 0,43

many boyfriends here," he comments. "Five schools in the last four years. Numerous referrals."

“I thought we went over this already.” I yawn. “It’s only four schools.”

“Not according to this.” He taps his file, tsking. “Someone's been a very naughty girl."

"Only when I feel like it," I reply, batting my lashes as he flicks a quick look up before he returns to the papers in his hand.

I try not to let it show, but the more his eyes rove over the sheets, the more I feel my muscles tighten. He's got a fucking work up on me. A whole spreadsheet on my past. It's fine, I tell myself. I don't give a fuck. It's not like I'm trying to hide anything.

That's not what bothers me. What bothers me is that Dean Carter thinks he knows everything about me, and I still hardly know anything about him. That, I'll have to rectify.

"What else does your little workup," I say, popping the last syllable of the word from my mouth as I do, "tell you about me?"

He looks back up at me. "Enough," he hedges.

"Yeah?" I smile. "Bet it doesn't have all the gory details of everything in my life that you think it does."

"You don't think so?" he asks. An underlying pressure fills up the car and I can sense the other two growing just as tense. Abel's hands grip the steering wheel tight enough to turn the skin over his knuckles white. Brax's eyes fixate on the windshield. Neither one of them says a word.

"No, I don't." I hold his gaze as I reach down and unclip my seatbelt. Brax reaches for it again without taking his eyes off the windshield.

"Let her," Dean orders and Brax jerks, finally tearing his gaze from the front to look at his friend in shock. But his hand falls away and I strip the seatbelt back as I lean forward, placing one foot on the floorboard between the seats and arching my whole upper body through the space between the front seats.

"What the fuck?" Abel snaps, his eyes sliding to the side.

"Keep fucking driving," Dean says as I angle my body so that I'm crawling through the space and land in the front seat with my back to the windshield and my thighs on either side of Dean's legs. He eyes me, and I know he's waiting to see what I'll do.

I grab the envelope and the papers with it and toss them into the backseat, letting them scatter across the floorboards. Dean's hands fist at his sides, refusing to touch me and it makes me smile. Abel's head turns repeatedly as he fights his need to watch the road and see what the fuck is going on. I can feel Brax's eyes on both of us. Putting my hand against the back of Dean's seat, I grip it as I hold myself precariously close to his body. I lean down.

"Doesn't matter how many people you pay, D-man," I whisper. "You'll never know my secrets unless I want you too."

"Everyone can be bought," he volleys back.

I laugh. That might be true for normal people, but I'm anything but normal. The car starts to slow and in my peripheral vision, I recognize the buildings we're passing. "Do you want to buy me?" I ask.

"I don't have to buy whores," he quips.

I tip my head back and tap my bottom lip with my finger. "Now, that's not the right word to use," I say. "That's exactly the kind of language that got your girlfriend in trouble." I grin. "You wouldn't want me to come after you the way I went after her, would you?"

He bares his teeth at me, his arm muscles straining as he grips the edges of his seat. From my position, I can smell the musk of his cologne, something dark and spicy. It fills my nostrils with a woodsy scent.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he says, his voice a deep growl as the Mustang turns down a side road.

"No, I'm not," I say. "Because I don't play games. You do."

One hand leaves the seat and grips my side as the car goes over a speed bump. The entire vehicle lifts and falls. Automatically, my hips lower and suddenly, I'm not hovering anymore—I'm plastered right up against him. And damn if I don't feel exactly what kind of weapon Dean Carter is packing.

He arches a brow and a smirk lifts his lips. "You might think you don't play games, sweetheart," he says, leaning forward