Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
Corinne bursts out laughing—zero amusement, a hundred percent sarcasm. It’s so loud that some of the guests nearby turn their heads at the sound. She and Heather may look alike, but observe them for three seconds, and it’s fairly easy to know who’s who.
Heather’s features are softer and brighter. She likes to wear her hair long, and she never covers up her freckles. Corinne sports a shorter hairstyle, and she’s obsessed with looking impeccable—perfect winged eyeliner, perfect makeup, perfect lipstick.
And on a deeper level, they’re two sides of a coin.
Heather minds her own business, stays in her lane, and only fights when provoked. Corinne, on the other hand, likes to pick fights with anyone who threatens her Queen Bee status. Unfortunately for her, it’s always Heather—Heather who doesn’t give a damn about popularity. And that rankles her more than anything.
“Hi, Heather. Nice seeing you. Didn’t expect to bump into you here,” Alex says.
“It’s Mimi’s birthday, Alex. My presence is expected. If there’s someone who shouldn’t be here, it’s you.”
“Whoa, Heath. You still mad about the yacht party? I feel bad, not gonna lie, but it’s not like we’d work out.”
Corinne doesn’t let Heather respond, cutting her off as soon as Heather opens her mouth. Yeah, Corinne hates it when the spotlight’s not on her.
“Hi, Baron. Fancy meeting you here. You got lost or something? Or maybe you decided to do some charity work and be my sister’s date for tonight?” She turns to Heather and smiles. “Does it bother you that Alex and I are dating? That he likes me more than you? Desperation doesn’t look good on you.”
I let out a laugh, startling all of them. “Damn, Cor. You talk about desperation like you didn’t pretend to be Heather and tried to kiss me after the football game in senior year.”
“Fuck you,” she snaps.
“Get in line.”
Corinne blinks rapidly, like she’s trying to process what I just said. Alex darts his eyes between me and Cor, and Heather grips my arm tighter.
I don’t really like getting in between women’s fights, but no one—and I mean no one—insults my Heather. I will not stand for it.
With my hand around her waist, I pull Heather closer to me and kiss her temple. When I speak, however, it’s loud enough that the other couple can hear. “Sorry, I didn’t tell you, baby. She cornered me, wearing your favorite shirt—you know, the faded gray Beavis and Butthead shirt—and said I needed to stop bullying her.”
My smile disappears as I face Corinne again. “It’s pretty sad that you go out of your way to try and make Heather miserable, yet here she is, thriving, glowing, and just living her best life.” I turn to Alex, not bothering to hide my disgust. “I’m glad you broke up with her. She’s way too good for a loser like you.”
“Well, that’s it for exchanging pleasantries.” I beam at them, and to anyone who’s watching, we’re just people casually greeting each other. “Pardon us if we prefer a different company. The air smells weird with you two here. Must be the toxicity.”
We step away, only for Corinne to grab Heather. Heather jerks her arm back, and Corinne gets in her face. “You’re not his type, Heather. You’re just his new shiny toy. He’s playing with you.”
Heather turns her gaze to me and throws me a genuine smile. “What if I want to be played with?”
I don’t get a chance to reply because she grabs my lapel and crushes her lips to mine. Every other thought disintegrates to dust. All that matters is her and me and our tongues dancing to each other’s rhythm.
When she begins rubbing against me, I steer us out to the balcony, completely forgetting the other couple. I mean, as much as I don’t give a flying fuck about what others think of me, I want this moment to belong to us and only us.
The curtains close behind us, the music just white noise for our heavy breathing and Heather’s little moans. Her gown, which I loved only moments ago, now becomes too much of a hindrance. There’s about five inches between our lower bodies, and I fucking hate it.
I deepen the kiss, coaxing her mouth to part, and when they do, I plunge my tongue into her warmth over and over—an imitation of what I will do to her pussy once we get the chance.
Heather breaks the kiss, her breath warm on my face. “I’m so hot for you right now. Let’s find somewhere more private.”
Ah, the magic words.
The entire party becomes a blur as I semi-drag Heather outside, my head whipping left to right, looking for someplace where I can taste her and claim her as mine.
Heather registers my confusion because she takes the lead, pulling me to one of the three dozen or so bedrooms.