Page 9

Jesse

“What the hell smells like day-old cum in here?” I ask, wrinkling my nose as we sit down to breakfast the next morning.

Calla suggested we try one of the resort restaurants, and I was quick to agree. It’s close, it can be charged to the room, and I don’t feel like dealing with sunlight until I’ve had a chance to fully wake up yet.

Doc smirks as he whips out his cloth napkin with a flourish, then smooths it on his lap, and I blow out an impatient breath.

Nothing against him, because he’s definitely one of my best friends, but the smug, bullshit-eating grin on his face gives him away instantly.

“Back of the line,” I state curtly.

The look on his face drops instantly as he slumps down in his chair a little, and Calla gives us both a curious look.

His very favorite thing is to tell us when we’ve lost our “spot” with Calla, so I take great pleasure right now in returning the favor.

“Fuck off, Jesse,” he grumbles as he swats his napkin. I chuckle as I exchange a triumphant look with Clyde, who, for a moment, is actually relishing that I managed to get a one-up on the prick.

Not that Doc is too bad or anything—it’s just his gloating can get to be too much sometimes.

“What line?” Calla asks curiously as she unfurls her napkin and places it on her lap.

“What line?” we all echo her in unison. She shakes her head ruefully as we burst into laughter— even Doc.

“Behave, you three,” she remarks with a chuckle as she rests an elbow on the table.

I inhale a contented breath as I glance around the restaurant.

It’s honestly the fanciest place I’ve ever been to, and I’m glad that I get to share this experience with her.

Having other guys attached to what I would consider a date isn’t the best way to make an impression, but it’s not the worst either.

“So, what looks good?” Calla asks after a tense moment of silence shared by everyone at the table.

You.

I don’t say it out loud, though. She doesn’t take compliments too well when all of us are around. Her face turns red, so do the tips of her ears. I think it’s adorable, and she thinks it’ s embarrassing.

“ Anything ,” I state enthusiastically as I pick up a fancy, leather-bound menu and open it up. It’s true—I could eat whatever they threw at me on a plate, so long as it was cooked.

I’m not as picky as Clyde.

I’m not as haughty as Doc.

I’m not as hard-pressed in my ways as Billy.

Which is probably how I ended up agreeing to this group-fuck, anyway, I muse with a chuckle as I glance down the options on the breakfast menu.

As everyone else at the table begins chatting about what they’ll be ordering, I lose myself deep in thought. With all of the snow outside, I wonder if Calla would be up to play a game?

A smile starts to curve my lips. I’ve never been partial to being out in the snow, but I have a feeling there’s more than one way to build a snowman.

I feel the gentle nudge of an elbow in my ribs and blink rapidly a couple of times before I glance at Billy. “What’ s up? ”

He cuts his eyes across the table, and I look up, then grin.

I couldn’t have been thinking my childish thoughts for more than a few moments, but enough time had apparently lapsed for a pretty, wild-looking server girl to appear.

My eyes instantly go to the number of silver studs climbing up the side of her ear, then slowly wander toward the soft, purple streaks hidden not so methodically by her natural, black hair.

Her eyes are narrow and mischievous, a gentle shade of sky blue, and as I let myself take in the rest of her shapely form hidden underneath a pair of black slacks and a white, crisp dress shirt, I can feel Calla staring daggers at me.

“Surprise me,” I tell the girl, my grin widening as I hold out the menu toward her. She rolls her eyes and chuckles as she takes it, then turns and quickly wanders away. I wonder if she wants to build a snowman, too.

I lean back in my chair with a sigh as I let my head fall back slightly and stare up at the ceiling. Even something as mundane as this is still one of the fanciest things I’ve ever seen.

Calla is still staring at me, but she doesn’t have anything to worry about when it comes to my commitment to her. Sure, my eye may wander every now and then, and I may think things that I shouldn’t about other pretty women, but she should know that my dick belongs to her.

Always has, always will, I think as I run a hand back through my hair and tip my chair backwards slightly. The two front legs come off the ground a little, and I just sit there, eyes trained on the ceiling, doing my best not to give in to looking at Calla Hunt and her accusing eyes.

I guess in a way it’s nice to know that even though she’s almost always surrounded by dick, she still craves us individually.

Dropping the chair legs back down to the floor with a dull thud, I reach over and nudge Billy’ s arm.