Ruthless Kings - Laura Lee Page 0,66
that I live in a house like this. I’m not even touching the fact that the front door was left unlocked. I don’t care how safe your neighborhood supposedly is; that shit’s just stupid.
“Bent!” Kingston shouts. “Where’re you at?”
“Game room!” Bentley shouts back.
Kingston inclines his head toward the staircase to our right, so I take the hint and walk in that direction. Once we get to the second level, he directs me down a hallway until we reach an open door. I peek inside and see Bentley and Reed playing some special ops game in front of the largest television I've ever seen.
Bentley smiles when he sees me. “Jazzy Jazz!” He tosses the Xbox controller on the table in front of him, walks toward me, and pulls me into a hug. “You look good in my house, baby girl. You should come over more often, but next time, ditch the caveman.”
I chuckle, trying not to be too obvious that I’m sniffing his yummy cologne. “Hi, Bent.”
“Very funny, asshole,” Kingston mutters as he pulls me out of Bentley’s grasp.
Bentley gives Kingston a whatever look and busies himself at the corner minibar. “What’s your poison, Jazz? I have vodka, whiskey, tequila, beer, ganja—”
I hold my hand up to stop his ramble. “Just water is fine.”
“Bor-ing,” Bentley singsongs as he tosses a bottle of water in my direction. “Davenport?”
“Macallan.” Kingston’s eyes meet mine. “You sure you don’t want something stronger?”
“I’m positive,” I deadpan. Drinking alcohol around these boys always seems to lead to trouble.
Kingston accepts the drink from Bentley and downs it in one go. He holds the glass out for a refill and does it again. Meanwhile, Bentley is gulping down at least three fingers of scotch from his own glass. Yikes, it’s tense in here. It looks like it’s up to me to inject some levity into the situation.
“Whoa there, boys.” I poke Kingston’s shoulder. “Looking to get wasted so you can have your wicked way with each other?”
Bentley laughs. “Princess, if Davenport here wants to suck my cock, no need for the liquor. He just needs to tell me I’m pretty, and I’ll happily whip it out for him.”
Kingston scoffs. “Fuck you, Fitzgerald. If anyone is going to have a dick in their mouth in this situation, it’d be you.”
Bentley blows him a kiss, which earns him a middle finger salute.
I’m laughing as I notice Reed shaking his head, muttering, “Idiots.”
Kingston steps forward and gently grabs my arm. “Let me see it.”
It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s talking about. “It’s all covered up.” I nod to the plastic that’s taped over my new tattoo like some weird band-aid.
“So, take it off.” With the way Kingston is looking at me right now, I’m not so sure he’s talking about plastic wrap.
“I’m supposed to wash it and put some ointment on when I take the plastic off.” Geez, could I sound any lamer? Like he gives a flying fuck about my aftercare instructions.
“We’ll be right back,” Kingston says to the guys as he leads me across the hall to a bathroom.
Rather than embarrass myself again, I busy myself unwrapping the bandage and washing the tattoo with soap and water. Kingston comes up behind me as I'm pulling the sample tube of A&D out of my pocket, and I can see his smirk in the mirror when I shiver from the proximity. God, I hate it that I have no game around him. He turns me into this mindless bitch in heat by merely existing. I can't stop thinking about what happened after Peyton's party and how badly I want to do it again.
Kingston watches over my shoulder as I pat my arm dry and start spreading the ointment over my fresh ink. As soon as I’m done, he takes my hand and lifts my arm to get a closer look. His finger lightly traces around the design, careful not to touch the tattoo.
"That's jasmine, isn't it?"
“It is.” Not gonna lie; I’m impressed he knew that. “They were my mom’s favorite. She used to call me her sweet flower.”
My eyes get watery like they usually do whenever I recall a happy memory involving my mom. I hope one day I can think of her and smile, but right now, all those memories do is remind me I'll never have those experiences again. I'll never again hear my mom say a single word, let alone use her favorite term of endearment. God, I miss her so much, I physically ache.