Page 74 of Tell Me Pucking Lies

I smile. Can’t help it. “Doesn’t matter. I need him wrapped around my finger to save my brother. I just need Axel to stay clean. That’s all this is.”

Thea shrugs. “You getting laid in the process is a bonus.”

I shake my head quickly. “I’m not getting laid.”

“Right.” She drags out the word, teasing. But she doesn’t push.

My stomach squeezes at the thought of sleeping with Koa. I haven’t even seen him with his shirt off, but I know his body is ripped. The way he moves, all controlled power. Broad shoulders. So tall. He’s stupidly hot.

I shake my head, clearing the thought.

Not happening. This is business. Control. Nothing more.

That night, I dress strategically.

Baggy jeans that keep my body a mystery. A large t-shirt that hides my curves. If mystery is going to drive him nuts, I will wear the baggiest, loosest clothes I can find.

When I walk out of my dorm building, he’s already there. Leaning against the Charger, arms crossed, looking like every bad decision I’ve ever wanted to make.

“Couldn’t wear something else?” he asks, eyeing me up and down with obvious disapproval.

I smile, proud of myself. “Not when I get a reaction like that.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t argue. Just opens the passenger door for me.

We pull out of the parking lot, and he races off campus. Fast. Too fast.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask, glancing over at him.

He’s dressed in all black—black jeans, black hoodie, black boots. I glance around the car, suddenly nervous. Shit. Is this another forest activity where I have to run for my life and get spanked?

“You’ll see.”

Shortly after, we roll up to a bar. There are motorcycles lined up outside, leather-clad bikers smoking by the entrance. My stomach drops.

“Is this a strip club?” I ask.

He doesn’t look amused. “No.”

“Are you stripping for me?”

“The only one stripping tonight is you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, is that right?”

“Yeah.” He grabs a black backpack from the back seat. “I’m going to drum your panties off.”

“Drum my...what?”

He smirks now, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “You’ll see.”

I watch him with the backpack, heart racing. My mind immediately goes to the worst place. Is this a pit stop? Are we making a drug run? Is he going to make me watch him do business?

“You coming?” he asks, already halfway to the door.

I scramble out of the car. “They’re not going to let me in there. I’m eighteen.”

He looks back at me, amused. “Do you know who you’re talking to? Come on.”