Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
“What the hell are you doing here?” he croaked. With one eye open, he peered up at me as I stood over him. We’d found him passed out inside a rundown motel room that I was sure someone had died in. The floor was littered with empty bottles, condom wrappers, and discarded clothes. After bribing the desk clerk for a copy of the room key, Houston had chased off the chicks we found cuddling with drunk-ass Loren.
“What the—” Loren barked. As if he were a vampire, the drama queen used the floral comforter to shield himself from the sun Houston let in after he ripped open the curtains. “Close the fucking curtains. What the hell is your problem?”
“You,” Houston answered coldly. “Now get the hell up.”
“Bite me.”
It sounded like we’d time-traveled to our teenage years when our hormones made us hate each other for a time as well as ourselves. Now we were men and back to hating each other but with only our egos to blame.
“Braxton’s one chick. One. You just found three to fuck you in the middle of nowhere,” Houston pointed out. “Not to mention we’re all better off anyway.”
Loren flew from the bed, naked and as shameless as the day he was born. I’d seen his dick so many times that I could probably draw it from memory…
I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that.
“Really? Your solution after screwing me is to insult my fucking intelligence? You didn’t screw Braxton for the band. You wanted her for yourself.” Shoving Houston, he yelled, “Admit it!” Loren was loud enough, I’m sure, to be heard from the next room.
It was only a matter of time before someone freaked and called the cops. I could read the outlandish headline now.
Bound Spotted: Sources report the purchase of stolen organs at shady Colorado motel.
I shook my head.
“If you understand my motives, why do I need to explain them?” Houston shot back. He really was a dick. “Admitting what you already know is not what you want to hear anyway. You want me to tell you that everything you imagined is true. You want to know that her pussy is fucking crippling. I can’t get the feel of her out of my head even while I’m standing here listening to you bitch about it. She let me use her, Lo. She begged me for it. She made me not care if you turned the corner and caught me balls deep. She’s fucking insatiable. I may never get enough, but what I do know is that Braxton is mine as of yesterday. It should be easy now for you to keep your hands off and your mind on the music.” Houston’s chest expanded as he inhaled deeply and exhaled. “Are we done now? Can we go?”
“That’s mighty fucking convenient,” Loren replied in the flattest tone ever.
“Come back to the bus.”
“Why? Do you need me, Houston?” he taunted. “A monkey could play the bass. That’s what you told me once, remember? Find someone else.”
Calvin had been a magician at guitar. We never thought replacing him would be possible, but it helped that we hadn’t given two shits about that cunt. Loren was different. For Bound, there was no one else. For Houston and me, there was no one else.
Houston had already drawn the same conclusion. The only problem was that he’d never admit it. I watched him silently make a decision and knew what angle he’d play before he even spoke.
“While you might have lost your appetite for money, I know the last thing you want is to hand it all over to Carl fucking Cole when he sues you for breach of contract, so get dressed, and let’s go. We’ve been in this shit-hole too long.”
It took another thirty minutes of Houston and Loren bickering like an old married couple before we made it back to the buses. All at once, we stopped in our tracks.
Braxton was leaning against the door of our rig.
She wore a white muscle tee with a black graphic design I couldn’t make out from where we stood. What I assumed was supposed to be a dress only extended to the middle of her thighs. If her attempt was to tone down the sexy, she failed miserably. Not when she wore those black, lace stockings that only reached an inch below the hem of her dress. On her feet were distressed brown leather boots that had seen better days. She had the oddest style, but it worked for her. Before yesterday, I would have fucked her just as hard in her weird clothes as I would out of them.
Braxton couldn’t seem to decide which of us to focus on since we were all watching her. Glancing at the ground, she pushed away from the bus.
We didn’t move to meet her halfway as she approached. Instead, we stood together like an impenetrable wall, giving no parts of our thoughts away. By the time she stood in front of us, her indecision was gone, and my jealousy was at an all-time high.