Whines and objections fill the room as people stagger to the door.
“Buzzkill,” someone sneers as they pass me.
One of the blow-job twins tries to kiss Phoenix goodbye, but he turns his head. “Get out.”
“Bitch,” one of them mutters under her breath as she gets dressed.
“Guess he’s a chubby chaser,” the more offended of the two spits as she stomps toward the door.
Years ago, those insults would have gotten under my skin, but I know she’s only saying that because deep down she’s miserable and feeling rejected.
I also know it’s not true.
She’s just a bitter bitch who’s trying to pick out something she thinks I must be insecure about because I’m not a size two like she is.
Screw her. I have half a mind to mention that Phoenix has kissed me lots of times before the door closes behind her, but the asshole in question starts swaying again.
“You’re hot,” he mumbles as I grab his bicep.
When he stops tottering, I pick a pair of boxers up off the floor.
Sadly, that dick of his is still massive. Too bad the specimen is attached to a giant douchebag.
“Lift your leg,” I instruct.
“I don’t fuck without a condom,” he babbles, despite me placing clothes on him.
At least he still remembers that small precaution. Needless to say, it won’t be necessary.
“There’s one by the bed.” I tug on his arm. “Let’s go.”
“Have I fucked you before?” he questions as I haul his stupid, staggering ass to the other room. “You seem familiar.”
Not familiar enough apparently.
I push him onto the mattress. “You only half fucked me.”
With his cock. Because God knows he fully fucked me overall. Bastard.
That dopey expression is back again. “What?”
“Nothing.”
He seizes the cuffs from me. “Get on the bed.”
A laugh flies out of my mouth as I snatch them back. “I’m not the one getting restrained. You are.”
My laughter dies when I realize the only way to secure him without having him suspect something is amiss is to straddle him first.
Fuck my life. Hard.
“Oh, you’re a bad girl, huh?” he slurs as I climb on top of him and grab one of his wrists.
I lock the cuff around it. “You have no idea.”
I’m about to be his worst nightmare.
He bites his lip as I fasten the other end to the headboard. “Now we’re talking.”
“No, actually. We’re not.” I quickly climb off him. “Go to sleep, asshole.”
CHAPTER 26
PHOENIX
My head feels like Storm decided to use my brain as his new drum set.
Motherfucker.
With a groan, I roll over, attempting to shield my face from the sunlight streaming through the curtain so I can go back to sleep…only I can’t.
Because I’m handcuffed to the bed.
“What the fu—”
“Good afternoon, douchebag. Did you sleep well?”
Holy hell. That voice.
Nah. There’s no way that’s possible. I’m still fucking high.
Only, when I cock my head toward the door…I realize I’m not imagining shit.
It’s her.
At least, I think it is because she looks…different.
“Lennon?”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Aside from the voice I still hear in my dreams and those big brown eyes I could pick out of a lineup, this isn’t the same girl from Hillcrest.
Her hair is darker and longer. The shiny jet-black tresses now end at her waist.
She’s also wearing makeup. Not a lot, just enough to accentuate her eyes and those high cheekbones which are even more prominent now.
And then there’s the obvious. She’s thinner.
But not in a skeletal way. I roam my gaze over her hourglass figure, taking in every soft feminine curve.
Fucking hell.
And yet, that’s still not the biggest change.
While I never thought Lennon was ugly and her weight wasn’t a big deal to me, my attraction to her developed and grew because of who she was on the inside.
An attraction she had a hard time believing, because despite trying her best to put up a good front, deep down, her insecurities were eating her alive.
The girl standing before me doesn’t have that problem anymore.
She’s secure and confident. There’s even a tiny smirk on her lips, as if she’s thinking—eat it up, asshole, and then choke on it, because you’ll never get this again.
Don’t I know it.