“Fucking A, I am.” Spencer and I answer at the same time, and our different personalities echo in those few words that separate us.
Then my attention is on the asshole Brit.
“Are you seriously not coming with us?”
Sledge stands, takes a shot, and joins us at the end of the bar.
“Yeah, I’m coming. After all, she’s my blood and I ain’t having you putting your horny fucker hands on her.”
Ah, there it is. There’s the protective instinct I was looking for.
“Challenge accepted, sir.”
Chapter Eight
Spencer
This is a bad idea. Worse…it wasmyidea.
Clearly, I didn’t think this through because why would I ever put myself in the position of being alone in a car with Grinder?
Grinder.
Even when he’s not trying, his pheromones do the work for him. The way he sits with his legs wide, giving his crotch all the breathing room it needs, or the way his tongue is constantly licking his bottom lip. Everything about him is sexual and it’s driving me crazy. It’s also driving me to silence. If I speak, I’m afraid of what ridiculous confessions may spew out of my mouth.
Bend me over and show me what you’ve got.
Make me choke on your cock.
How talented is your tongue?
I wanna have your babies.
Wait, no. What? That last thought isn’t even a biological possibility, yet here we are. So, yes, I’m opting to be like the monks and make a vow of silence for the duration of this car ride. Or rescue mission. I’m not really sure what we’re doingbecause Parker is a grown up and if she wants to leave the compound, she’s perfectly free to do so.
Then again, normal societal rules don’t apply with these neanderthals. Psycho is the best example of them all. The guy stalked the whole of Rockford Beach looking for Mac after having sex with her the sum total of…once.
At first, I thought her vagina had to be the portal to Narnia but quickly realized that Psycho is…well…a freaking psychopath and his predominant trait is obsession.Macis his obsession, and where normal people living normal lives would see that as a bright, neon red flag, in this compound, he’s par for the course.
I scoff at my thoughts. Everything about this is insane. Especially the part where I have the clever—stupid—idea of driving Grinder around looking for the girl he’s consumed by.
“Care to share? It looks like you’re having a whole conversation all by your lonesome.”
Ugh, his voice is like honey coating my tongue and sliding down my throat.
Stop it.Red flag, red flag, red flag.
“Just trying to guess where she would go.” Rockford isn’t a metropolis but it’s not Mayberry either, so this whole expedition is a waste of time. I don’t want to break his heart, though, so I’ll play along, be the concerned party in search of the adult who decided to get her own damn hotel instead of sleeping in what is essentially a bachelor’s frat house with an annexed sorority.
I’m not bitter. Not at all.
“You’re doing it again.” The amusement in Grinder’s voice is not sexy. It’s the opposite of that and I’m absolutely not affected by it.
“And what, pray tell, am I doing?” I may not have rolled my eyes but my tone did it for me.
“Getting all worked up about something in your head.” I keep my eyes on the road, especially in these outskirts with small wildanimals wandering around scavenging for food, but I still see him move out of the corner of my vision. His hands run up his short hair, rubbing at the scalp then shaking his head like he’s trying to sober up or stay awake.
“No one’s getting worked up, you’re imagining things.” This whole club is hyperdramatic on all levels. If we had this much testosterone running rampant at the fire station, we’d never get any work done. Although, I’m pretty sure there are at least three couples using the supply room for reasons other than getting cleaning products.