Page 6

Translation: Remy is fucked if Mase ever finds out.
Given the size of Remy and Mase, I’ve always wondered who’d lay out who quicker, but if a sister is involved, my money is on Mase.
“I need another beer,” Callie says, handing me her glass when I stand to go retrieve snacks from the kitchen.
“Are you going to ask me nicely?” I wink at her and reach for the glass, our fingers grazing one another. To Callie, it’s no big deal that our hands touch. To me, I’m instantly thinking of what those hands feel like on my dick. I would know too. I’ve fucked Callie probably more than anyone else.
Her eyes soften and she draws her bottom lip in. “Please.”
“Fuck,” I groan, barely able to control myself around Callie. Everything she does turns me on, even if it’s just drinking beer. She has shamelessly seduced me without even knowing it.
In her defense, she isn’t trying to torture me, but I want more from her. I want her body in ways I can’t even begin to describe with words that won’t do my thoughts justice.
Catelyn watches me pour her beer and the way I twist the cup, creating the right amount of head. “It’s always good…” I lean in, letting my chest touch her shoulder. “To have a little head.”
Callie—who comes out of nowhere—punches my shoulder. “Don’t say that to her. She’s sixteen.”
“She needs to know these things,” I defend, holding up my palms when I turn to face Callie. “Besides, she doesn’t even know what head means.”
Catelyn’s eyes drift to Remy. “I know what it means.”
Oh shit.
Callie stares at me, disgusted, and walks over to Remy, shaking her head and muttering under her breath something about me thinking with the wrong stick. She really has no idea how true that is.
About ten minutes later, Catelyn comes back into the kitchen for round three of the beer festivities. She’s turning into a lush already.
Red-faced and weary-eyed, she walks slowly into the kitchen, under the archway, as I yell, “STOP!”
Catelyn comes to an immediate halt, wondering why the fuck I’m yelling at her. Little does she know she’s standing under the mistletoe.
“Hey, Catelyn,” I bellow. “Did you know the word mistletoe translates to dung on a stick?”
“It does not. Are you drunk already?” Callie asks, shaking her head and trying to cover my mouth with her hand. In the process, I spill a good amount of my beer on her. Serves her right. Lucky for me, I still have a little in my glass, so I keep up with my story.
“Yes, it does!” I defend, staring at Callie as Catelyn walks away. “Based on what I read online, people over the years apparently observed that mistletoe often grows where birds have taken a shit. So the ancient Anglo-Saxons came up with the name mistletoe, which translates to dung and twig.” I take the last drink of my beer, trying not to laugh. “So mistletoe actually means dung on a stick.” Most people know that 90 percent of the shit I spew is bullshit. But sometimes I even impress the hell out of myself.
And get this. Callie fucking punches me in the shoulder. Again. Hard too. “None of what you’re saying is true,Leo. Get your facts together.”
“You can google that shit, woman!” Little does she know I just want to catch her under the mistletoe and take advantage of her.
I smile as she turns to walk away. Only I’m not having it and reach for her hand. “I’m in a very vulnerable state right now,” I tell her, not understanding why she can’t see that. Turning around, I pull her to me again and note her expression has changed. Hmm… is she into me? Does she want more? I ask myself this constantly because I can’t tell with her. I never can. I stick out my bottom lip and rub my head against her shoulder. Really I just want to be closer to her tits. “I don’t have family here. I need comforting.”
And by comforting, I mean for you to suck my dick.
“Fuck off.” She places her palm in my face and pushes me away. But she doesn’t walk away. She stands, watching me, her beer in hand. “You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass right now for spilling that beer on me.”
Have I mentioned Callie is feisty? She’s so mean to me. “Ma-an,” I groan, folding my arms over my chest and sticking out my bottom lip again, hoping she might take pity on me if I look wounded. Doesn’t work.
“Well, maybe you should think before you speak with your dick next time.”
Callie’s easily annoyed by me. Most people are. It’s an art, really.
“Ouch.” I clutch my chest. “That really hurts.” I move toward her again, making her think I’m coming in for a hug. Smiling, I think she knows what I’m up to, so I work quickly, retrieving the beer from her hand and chugging it. I like getting her pissed at me, because then she gets drunk, and she might give me a shot. And by shot, I mean I might get laid.
“Youfuckingjerk!”
Okay, maybe that plan isn’t going to work. I wink. “I’ll get you a new one.”