Rich Prick

Page 22

But the effect didn’t go away.

He sighed. “You’re not saying, but I can only imagine what the others said to you, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry you went through that.” He cupped the side of my face and leaned forward, his forehead resting against mine. “I can’t speak for what happened to you in the past, but I can speak for now. I will be a dick. Okay? Like, full disclosure here. I know I will be a dick, because I just am. I will try not to be. I never want to hurt you, but it’s my default setting. So far I’m not that guy with you, and I will always try to be better. I’m sure I’ll slip and the D will come out. Having said that, I’m an honest dick, so if I skate on you or leave you and you’re feeling your stuff about me, ask me. Okay? I will be honest. You never have to worry or wonder where I am. I’m brutally honest, though maybe that’s a good thing with you and me, huh?”

I grasped his wrist. My heart pounding harder, more sure. “Do you promise? You’ll always be honest?”

“I will, even if it hurts you. I’ll be honest.”

He wasn’t telling me pretty, fake words. He wasn’t saying he’d always be there for me. He wasn’t saying he’d never leave, but honesty was big. I could work with honesty. I could handle the truth, no matter how much his answer might hurt.

I breathed out a shaky breath. “You can’t ghost me.”

“I won’t do that. I promise. Call, text, and if I’m able, I will respond. I can promise you that much.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

His thumb traced my bottom lip. His other hand had remained between our bodies, resting just inside my jeans, and now he began tracing under my thong. He had me squirming within a beat, and he grinned, leaning forward to nip at my lips.

He groaned. “I think I’m obsessed with your body.”

I let out an abrupt laugh. He’d said he’d be honest. But I could handle that, and I stopped thinking, closing the distance until my mouth was over his. He maneuvered himself to lie on top of me, and I liked it.

Oh yes. I liked this a whole lot.



This was ridiculous. I was a horny guy in heat, like, twenty-four-seven.

I couldn’t even take my girl—and I couldn’t believe I was already calling her that—to dinner at a restaurant.

I wanted to touch her all the time.

I wanted to kiss her all the time.

I wanted in her pants super bad, but I was also enjoying just giving her lots of orgasms.

We did actually make it to her camping store later, and I loved that she was looking for a security system, because that meant she was thinking of my concern. But I was also distracted every time she made a sound.

She was cute.

Every new item she saw, she fell in love with, and my dick tried to grow into its own zip code. Every time she smiled, even when she was confused by something, she was adorable. She looked amazing walking around in those tight jeans, her simple tank, and I knew how those nipples tasted and felt. I could see they were hard for me, and every time I saw another guy checking her out, I gave him the look I reserved for people I wanted to murder. She couldn’t figure out why no store attendants came over to help her. They were all dudes, and they weren’t stupid. They saw how I wanted to rip their heads off.

Smart little fuckers, they were.

I was trying to be a good guy. I could’ve pulled her back to my Wagon, driven her somewhere, and had her moaning for me, but nope—a full date. That’s what I wanted to give her. So after the store, we went to dinner.

And I was in agony.

She was currently rubbing my lap under the table, and this time, she knew the torture she was putting me through. She soaked it up, and I wanted to soak her up, but that would be later. When I leaned over and whispered that promise to her, she blushed, and I kept hearing this weird thunking sound in my chest, like something twisted up in me was falling into place.

It scared the shit out of me, but not enough to end this date. Never enough for that.

After dinner, Aspen wanted to go to a bookstore, so we hit one up. We held hands. And she showed me the romance book aisle. Her favorite.

I noticed she tended to go for the pretty covers.

I picked one of those up and read the back. It was about a school shooting. Serious shit, but she kept going back to it and then putting it on the shelf again.

I bought it when she went to the bathroom.

She squealed when I gave it to her, and I wanted to eat her all the way up, but now we were stopping for ice cream. We found ourselves a table, which was good because I didn’t think I could walk. She licked her cone and seemed oblivious that I was mesmerized. I had to scoot down when some guys from our school walked by, because my hard-on was trying to lift the fucking table.

“Babe.” I leaned forward, trying to think of my grandma. “You gotta stop torturing me. My balls aren’t blue anymore. They’re fucking black.”

Her eyes got big, and I swear, that made her even hotter. I needed to find new words for lickable, tasteable, fuckable, hot, cute, and adorable because those weren’t enough to describe her.

A date.

We were dating.

I’d asked her to be my girl, and she’d climaxed her response.

I was dating someone, and I wasn’t letting her go.

This shit was getting serious.

A girlfriend. That was next.

Or were we already there?


Did I have a girlfriend? Was I her boyfriend?

The panic I thought I’d be feeling wasn’t there. What did that say about me?




I jerked out of my thoughts, finding Aspen giving me a weird look. “What?”

She pointed to the side, and I looked.

Aw, crap.

Zeke stood there, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. My first thought was to punch him and wipe that smirk off, but the second was shit, shit, shit because Zeke wasn’t alone.

Our entire group of friends had decided they wanted ice cream.



Zeke Allen leered at me. I hated it.

“Hey, buddy.” His leer turned even smarmier, and he shoved in beside Blaise and leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. “You and me have not officially met. I’m Zeke.”

I opened my mouth, but no surprise, nothing came out. I’d tried getting Blaise’s attention, but he’d taken that moment to get lost in his thoughts. Otherwise I could’ve warned him when I saw Zeke’s truck turn in to the parking lot. He’d parked next to Blaise’s Wagon and gave it a long look before heading inside, a confused frown on his face.

And Zeke’s truck had been just the first.

Four more vehicles pulled in after it, and now the entire front section of the ice cream shop was overrun with Blaise’s friends: Penny, Ria, Deja, Kit. The guys that came with them. They’d all entered, the girls giving me nasty looks. I saw Mara for a moment, but when she saw me, she turned and left.

Hurt had flashed on her face, and a part of me felt bad. But the other part was terrified because this group was the nightmare of every book nerd out there.

Blaise let out an aggrieved sigh, raking his hand through his hair. “No,” he growled, and it seemed to shock everyone. Even Penny cast him a cursory look. Zeke looked mildly amused. He lifted an eyebrow, waiting.

Blaise shoved him out of the booth.

“Come on, man.” Zeke’s arms fell open. “We gotta meet her at some point.”

Blaise gave him a dark look, taking my hand and pulling me out. “Not today, bruh.”

He led me through the group, back to the front of the restaurant.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Zeke called.

Blaise stopped, his hand gripping mine. His body stiffened as he turned back slowly. “Excuse me?”

“You keep starting shit and then leaving. That’s not how it works with me.” Zeke sounded almost charming, but there was an edge in his eyes.

It sent shivers down my back.

Blaise laughed an ugly laugh. He did not look like he was having the same shivers. He was looking like the one who gave those shivers to others. “That’s not how things work with you? Who the fuck do you think you are? You ain’t Ghandi.”

Someone snorted beside us.

A dark cloud came over Zeke’s face before he caught himself. Then that eerily charming smile returned, and he shrugged. “I’m just letting you know how it is. That’s all. We miss hanging out with you.”

“I’m really sick and tired of the cloak-and-dagger warnings, Zeke. You want to throw down? Let’s throw down.”

Just as I thought Blaise was going to break my hand, he loosened his hold. He pulled my hand into both of his and began rubbing.

Zeke watched the movement, and there was a flash in his eyes. Sadness.

I frowned, biting the inside of my cheek. Why?

He shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. We’re good. I was just pissed about earlier.”

What happened earlier?

Blaise relaxed and tucked my hand back in his, moving forward. He and Zeke did a man hug, thumping each other on the shoulder. Blaise said something to him no one else could hear, and Zeke nodded, holding up his fist.

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