Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I let out a growl before stopping myself from jumping onto the table and slamming his face into it over and over again until it knocks all of his pretty teeth out of his fucking mouth. He already sports a bruise on his chin where I punched him in the shower. His eyes need to match.
“Okay, I’ll look into that,” Nate tells him before kissing my cheek.
I don’t dare move.
“I’ll call you later.” He taps my ass and then turns to leave.
The moment I hear the front door shut, I take in a deep breath. “You … son of a bitch,” I manage to spit out through gritted teeth. I reach over, grabbing a cake that someone brought for the party last night, and throw it across the room, hitting him in the chest.
“Hey, I was going to eat that.” Finn frowns, watching the chocolate chunks fall off Colt to the marble floor.
“What?” He cocks his head; his dark hair is standing in different directions, letting me know he hasn’t fixed it yet. The thought of Amy’s hands in it this morning while his head was between her legs doesn’t help my already sour mood. “Don’t you want him to see how good you are at sucking dick?” he asks innocently.
Oh, this motherfucker. “He’s well aware of that already,” I counter.
There’s a tick in his sharp jaw, and he stands, flicking the pieces of cake off his shirt as he walks toward me slowly. My eyes drop to his fisted hands, and I think he’s planning on choking me out. I’m prepared to break my already sore hand on his motherfucking face. “Watch it, princess—”
“Raylee?”
I turn to see Nate standing under the white archway to the entrance of the kitchen with his cell in one hand and his eyes on mine.
“It’s not what you think,” I say defensively, knowing the moment he unlocked his phone, he watched it. I’m sure that everyone he knows has watched it by now. Who knows how many texts and calls he’s had from friends informing him that his girlfriend is fucking her stepbrother?
“Oh … so you’re not on your knees in the formal dining room with Colt’s dick down your throat,” he says slowly. His eyes remain on mine. “Because that’s exactly what was happening in the video I just saw.”
“It was—” I was about to say that was six weeks ago, before we got together, but I just cheated on the man this morning in the shower.
He gives a rough laugh, pocketing his cell. “Now it makes sense.” Nodding to himself, he adds, “Why you set his car on fire.”
I fist my hands, choosing not to respond to that. It wasn’t a question.
“And you.” He looks at Colt. “Why the fuck would you allow this to be seen?”
“For a day like this,” Colt answers, smirking, not affected by the situation at all.
I hang my head, realizing exactly why Colt did what he did. If I was single, that video would still be sitting on his phone. It’s because I started seeing someone. He wanted to sabotage it. This is why we can’t have nice things comes to mind. Every relationship I’ve ever tried to have since my mother married his father has gone to shit. Granted, I was sixteen when they married, but none of them ever worked out. Now I wonder if it’s because of Colt. Has he done something to ruin them for me? Well, it takes two, I guess.
Swallowing, I lift my eyes to meet his. “Nate—”
“You know, my friends told me that you were a whore.” He interrupts me. “A cheap whore at that.” His light brown eyes look me up and down, disgusted with himself. Like he lowered his standards by dating me.
“I’m sorry,” I say wholeheartedly. I never meant to embarrass him.
However, he’s not lying about me being a whore, but why is that a bad thing? Why can’t I just like sex and that be okay? I first met him a couple of years ago. We went to college together, and it’s not like he was a virgin. I know at least ten girls he fucked before me. How many were before that?
Nate throws his head back, laughing. “Sorry? You’re a shitty liar, Ray. Just like you were a shitty fuck.”
“Maybe you’re the problem in that department,” Colt tells him.
My eyes widen, looking over at him. He’s now leaning casually against the kitchen island with his arms crossed over his cake-covered T-shirt.
“Excuse me?” Nate arches a brow and takes a step farther into the kitchen.
“You heard me.” Colt uncrosses his arms and pushes off the island. “Sounds like to me that if you knew how to fuck a woman, she wouldn’t fuck other men.”
The fact that Colt is trying to stick up for me is irritating. I don’t need him to defend me. “Stop—” I stand between them, but Colt grabs my arm and yanks me back, shoving me over into Finn who wraps an arm around my chest, keeping my back pinned to his front in an iron grip.