Page 52 of Trick Shot

“Right. Busy reading articles about me.”

“I wasn’t reading about you,” she says, breathless. “I was reading about the parrot.”

“You rub your ass on every guy you’re not reading about?” I ask, holding her gaze.

Her eyes narrow and her mouth parts like she wants to snap something back. But that’s as far as she gets. Because she knows what she did.

I press in closer, our bodies almost touching now.

“You think I won’t do something about this?” I whisper, fingers flexing on her hip.

Her hand lifts to press against my chest, but it’s not pushing. It’s clinging. Her fingers curl into my skin.

“I think,” she starts slowly, “that you have no idea what to do with me.”

My head drops to her ear, the scent of her getting stronger.

“I know exactly what to do with you,” I murmur, drawing out each word.

She sucks in a breath just as I lower my mouth to her neck.

“Do you know what to do with me?” I whisper.

She doesn’t speak, but her other hand joins the one on my chest. She’s still clutching onto the apple.

“Tell me to stop,” I murmur, lips grazing the edge of her ear now.

Still nothing. Her chest rises and falls fast, her lips are parted, her eyes on my shoulder.

I bring my left arm down and tighten it around her waist. Then I reach between us and wrap my fingers around her wrist. Her hand is still clutching that shiny red apple, and her eyes widen as I bring it to my mouth.

Our gazes stay locked the whole time as I open my mouth and use her hand to guide the apple to it.

I take a clean bite, slow and deep, lips brushing the edge of her knuckles as I sink my teeth in. Juice runs down the curve of the apple, and I watch her swallow like she’s the one who bit into it.

“Mm.” I hum, licking a drop off my bottom lip.

She exhales sharp, eyes wide, stunned silent. Her pulse is erratic under my fingertips, her hand’s still frozen mid-air, and her mouth’s parted like she wants to say something but forgot every word she’s ever known.

We’re so deep in it that we don’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late.

The ice machine hums to life beside us.

Melody gasps and stiffens in my arms. My entire body goes rigid as I whip my head around, heart slamming against my ribs like I just got fucking caught breaking into a vault. But the reality is worse—I’ve got my hands all over my best friend’s sister.

My eyes immediately snap to the sound of the source. Zed stands at the bar, calm, silent, and shirtless. Ice cubes clink in his glass like punctuation marks to my destruction.

His pale eyes flick between the two of us before his stare lands on me, knowing and steady.

There’s a long, heavy pause before he finally speaks.

“He’s coming,” he says in that deep, quiet voice that always sounds like a goddamn omen.

My blood turns to static. I drop my hand from Melody’s waist and step back fast—two steps, maybe three. My body’s buzzing, adrenaline snapping through every nerve as I whip my head toward the hallway.

And just as I do—

“Has anyone seen my sunglasses?” Dom’s voice calls out from the back room, getting closer.