Knot So Lucky (Destination Love, #1)(27)

Mills: And his mouth.





“Oh my god.” I inhale sharply before waving off his curious face.

Me: If any part of his body sexually touches my body, I lose.





Samantha: Mills…friends too?





Mills: Yep…his friends count.





Me: Not the Tweedles. How could you? You fucking hate me.





Me: Then you know what…I hate you dirty cockblockers too and I hope you both get syphilis.





I can hear their scream-laughs in my mind. Because that’s exactly what they did the minute they read that. And it’s making me smile until I look up directly into Crew’s face, who narrows his eyes.

“What’s so funny?”

Nothing you ever get to know. My head draws back, my eyes looking him up and down, searching for my words carefully.

“None of your business.”

It’s not inventive, but it gets to the point.

“You were talking about me, weren’t you?”

He looks amused as he reaches for my phone. But I snatch it away.

“Are you crazy? Don’t try to take my phone. Also, no. You weren’t even mentioned.”

Crew bites his lip, tilting his head as he stares at me. So, I shrug, really trying to sell my bullshit, but I can feel it the minute he decides to call my bluff.

I squeal, jumping in my seat as my phone is snatched from my hands.

“Give it back,” I yell, but Crew laughs, nabbing my chin and holding my face in place.

“Dickkkk move,” I grind out, making a hundred weird crazy expressions, trying to fuck up the facial recognition.

But it works faster than legs spread for tattooed guys.

“You’re so rude,” I rush out, trying to unlock my seat belt. But I can’t see what I’m doing because he’s holding me away with his palm outstretched on my face.

“Who’s Patty with the Fatty?” he levels. “And New Year’s Chris… Thick Fingers Steve… Why do you have so many guys in your phone?”

I smack his arm with one hand, trying to undo the belt with my other as I yell.

“You really are a walking red flag. This is an invasion of my privacy, you asshat.”

“Whatever,” he snaps back, keeping my face covered with his big-ass mitt of a hand as he adds, “Wives shouldn’t keep secrets from their husbands.”

“I’ll make sure to tell the next guy everything.”

The chuckle he lets out makes me ravenous for murder, coupled with the horror that he’s going to see the damn bet. I’ll die. I’ll fucking jump straight out of this car onto the freeway, tuck-and-roll style, and wish for the best.

He cannot see that I was talking about his “giant cock” and that “I had self-control.” He doesn’t get to know I think he’s hot still. Shit.

“Crew,” I growl, wrestling with his arm. “If you don’t give my phone back right now, I will hold a pillow over your head tonight. You’ll sleep with the damn angels.”

He whistles, finally letting me go and tossing my phone back onto my lap.

“You’re so violent. You should work on that.”

In answer, I smack his arm once more for good measure, but it only serves to make him laugh louder.

Damn that laugh. It’s disarming and sexy as hell. It’s like hot fudge on vanilla ice cream. All melty and decadent, and it makes me want to lick him. But I won’t because he’s an asshole, and those aren’t keto-friendly… Also, I love my mom and my boots.

God, why did Millie have to be right. I have the worst taste in men. Because I can’t deny that there’s a tiny piece of me that is turned on right now.

I string my words together, brushing my hair out of my face.

“I’m convinced that whatever I saw in you last night only exists with tequila goggles.”

His face slowly lowers to mine as he leans over, suddenly invading my space. I hold my breath, swallowing as his minty warmth brushes over my skin.

“Maybe you just need a reminder. Dirty things happen in the light of day too…but that means we’d have to break your little ‘is she or isn’t she a brotherfucker’ rule.”

Nooo… I can feel myself turning into weak Superman. It’s the mix of sexy and shitty. It’s doing me under.

“Shut up,” I whisper, pressing my hand directly over his mouth, and quote my favorite movie. “You shut your mouth when you’re talking to me.”

But Crew presses his face closer into my hand, turning his head and growling like an animal as he takes a bite of the side of my palm.

The way in which my thighs squeeze together gives away just how much that turned me on. And if it didn’t, I fucking shiver.

“Ow.”

“Liar,” he mumbles before pressing a lingering kiss to the spot. “You know what I love about Vegas, Wild Card?”

That’s the third time he’s called me that. But that’s not the only thing throwing me off. I can’t foresee where he’s going with what he just asked, not that I actually care because Crew’s mouth on me has me all hot and flustered.

God, give me strength, or just let me break my legs so I’m not running straight for his dick.