Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Tori was smiling and playing the part, leaning close and making it seem like they were really together, or at least really feeling each other.
My sister was blinking up at Tori, looking baffled but also looking like she was wanting to buy everything Legs was selling.
I wasn’t surprised. Quinn shared my taste in women. And I definitely had a taste for Legs.
“Whoa, are you two … damn. Is this your girl?” one of the shitheads asked from behind Tori, pointing at the back of her.
“Jesus,” another one chimed in, looking his fill. “What are the chances of me watchin’ you two go at it? This is fuckin’ hot.”
I stepped up then, not liking the tone of this guy and the shit coming out of his mouth, and wanting to make my presence known.
He saw me approach and shot me a hard look, asking, “You gotta problem?”
“Jamie.”
Teeth clenched and fists forming, I looked to Quinn, not taking the bait he was throwing out.
She was watching me, eyes serious and mouth tight, subtly shaking her head in warning ’cause she knew I couldn’t be fighting or doing anything that could draw negative attention. Then she turned her attention onto Tori when she twisted and slid into Quinn’s lap.
“Fishing in the wrong pond, boys,” Tori informed them, sweeping her gaze over the three while putting her arm around Quinn’s shoulders and pressing close. “Get lost. We’re not interested.” Then she turned all of her attention onto my sister and amped up her game, giggling as she kept her face close to hers and running her fingers through her hair, smiling, whispering, really flirting and looking into it, all while blocking the view of the shitheads so they couldn’t watch.
And everything Legs was doing, my sister was eating up.
Wrapping her arms around Tori and holding on to her, smiling back, laughing, looking like she was falling in love and thinking this was real and something sustainable.
I was starting to regret incorporating Tori into this plan. She was a little too good at her game. Straight up. Maybe the best at it.
I was also starting to get mildly jealous watching my sister getting attention from the one woman who was hell-bent on ignoring my ass.
“Man, whatever,” the one guy said, grabbing his beer and looking to his friends. “Come on. I’m not wastin’ my time on lesbian pussy.”
His friends murmured their agreement, mentioned something about hitting up Roy’s, a bar down the street, then grabbed their beers and stepped away.
When they were out of earshot, I shifted my eyes to Legs, telling her, “Think you sold it. You can get off my sister now.”
Tori smiled proudly, lifting her shoulders with a little dance. Then she looked to Quinn, keeping the smile, and said, “Hey, I’m Tori. Your brother dragged me here, so I figured I’d offer my assistance instead of letting him handle it, since he can’t fight and all.”
“Can fight, just shouldn’t,” I corrected her. I jerked my chin. “Hop off.”
Quinn moved her hands up Tori’s back and licked her lips. “Wicked plan,” my sister told her. “I was totally into that.”
“I think it got the point across,” Tori replied. “I really like your hair, by the way.” She ran her fingers through it again. “The color looks great on you.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. It really makes your eyes pop.”
“I was thinking about going purple …”
“Have you tried bleaching the roots and just painting the color on the ends? I think that would look amazing with purple.”
Jesus.
“Legs,” I barked.
Both of their heads whipped around and faced my direction.
“You feelin’ like gettin’ up so we can get the fuck outta here?” I asked, thinking only about the food back at her place I was wanting to eat and not about how comfortable my sister’s hands looked gripping on to Tori’s body.
“She’s fine,” Quinn offered, keeping her hands locked around Legs. “Really. She doesn’t have to move.”
I shot a glare at Quinn, communicating how I felt about that suggestion, then shifted that glare to Tori.
“I was getting up. Relax. We were just talking,” she huffed, moving off Quinn’s lap and coming to stand beside me. “You’re welcome, by the way,” she murmured.
I ignored her mouth, for now, and watched Quinn come to her feet.
She was seven years younger than me, putting her at twenty-one, tall and thin, with the muscles of a track runner filling out her legs and giving her some meat, kept her hair short and her eyes green thanks to contacts, and ever since she was a kid, refused to wear anything besides all black.
Right now, she was wearing tight black jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a black tank. Solid. No design.
Quinn kept the color to her hair.
“Hey, big brother,” she said with a smile, while fixing the pieces of hair around her face and making them spike out again. Dimples caved in her cheeks. “Thanks for coming to get me. I totally owe you one.”