I look back to Maddoc finding him now studying me.
“We’re hungover as fuck, it’s a three-day weekend, and we have no plans ‘til tonight.” He stares. “Come back to bed.”
I take a deep breath and figure ‘fuck it.’ I shut and lock the door and drop onto the bed.
He doesn’t scoot closer like he did last night – if he even remembers doing so. This time he simply closes his eyes and falls fast asleep.
I lay there wishing away the confusion he’s planted inside me.
“Raven, let’s go.”
With a groan, I move back into my bathroom and stand on the toilet to look myself over.
The suit fits perfectly. Too perfectly.
It’s tight on my ass and forms to my every curve, showing off the curl of my hips in the openings. I’m a little too skinny for my liking, but I never have been able to hold any weight. All the walking around and mere lack of food didn’t help either.
Either way, not much is left to the imagination in this thing.
I turn to look over the back again and slip, falling against the wall.
I laugh, finding my footing as a loud bang hits the door.
“The fuck was that?” Royce shouts. “You good in there?”
“Yeah.” I chuckle then frown at the mirror. I left my hair down, hoping to cover myself some – and keep me warm since it’s fucking cold out – but now that I’m looking again, it almost makes me look more ... like her. Desperate. Willing.
I move to the bed and drop down, facing the ceiling.
It’s not the suit or the way it looks or how much it shows. It’s how every day when I look in the mirror, my mother stares back, mocking me with her nasty smirk. She’s like the dirty devil glued to my shoulder, constantly hissing in my ear reminding me who we are and what we’ll never be.
Some kids get pep talks of honesty and integrity, I get a prime hooker’s playbook on how to seduce a married man for blackmail money.
And while I imagine a lot of daughters are told how much their beauty matches their mother’s, I’m reminded how I’ll never measure up to mine.
I can admit she’s the far prettier version of me on any day. She’s got the sleek hair and big blue eyes, heavy makeup and heavier tits. For a woman who has used drugs for as long as I can remember, she somehow keeps herself up.
I told her once that she’d look like a troll eventually and she simply laughed and disagreed. She claims cocaine is nicer on the appearance than other drugs, which is why she ‘chose’ that over meth. Idiot. She calls it the soccer mom drug, swearing half the women in the suburbs – the wives of her clients – are all on a line or two a day.
When I asked why, if that were true, she couldn’t function the way they did, she gave me a black eye.
I had laughed and left for school.
I already knew the answer, I just wanted to piss her off.
A single line or two would never be enough for Ravina Carver. She needs an eight ball to keep her satisfied, and even then ... enough is never enough.
Sometimes though, say after a four-day binge with no sleep, she looks the part of the scavenger she is.
Those are usually the days she has heavy hands.
“Open the door,” Captain calls.
With a sigh, I pull myself from the comforter and do as he asks.
His attention immediately drops to my body and damn if mine doesn’t do the same.
I step back to have a better look at him standing there in nothing but a pair of grey and blue swim trunks.
Captain is ripped. Like ... ripped. Where Maddoc’s got that hard-earned tall and tapered effect of the three, Captain is broader, so his muscles are fuller, but he doesn’t have that hardened look. His body seems soft but strong, like he’d wrap you up tight and you’d involuntarily melt right there in his arms, beg him not to let go. He’ll keep a girl real warm tonight.
“Raven.”
I lift my eyes and he winks.
“You look good, too.”
I roll my eyes and when Royce steps beside him, I look him over just the same.
He’s the leaner of the three, but still has the definition of an athlete. He’s tight in the right areas, with biceps that flex with each movement. It’s the tattoos though that reel you in at the start. He screams bad bad bad and he knows it.
I laugh when I see his trunks of choice.
They’re white – bad move number one – and have a hot dog image with wings printed right over his groin.
He sees me looking and thrusts his hips, making his dick bounces against the fabric.
“Oh my God!” I laugh covering my eyes. “Quit your shit!”
Clearly no boxers under there.
He laughs. “Don’t act like you don’t wanna look, we both know you’re dying to feel me up again.”
“Let’s fucking go,” the big man’s voice booms over us.
With grins, the other two shuffle away and finally, big man is in sight.
Maddoc, the god he is, is wearing solid black trunks, and I’d expect no different. He doesn’t need to be flashy to be seen. He’s got the aesthetic that forces your fixation - you simply can’t miss the man. Especially not right now with the way those trunks ride low on his hips. His happy trail is practically screaming to be played with.
I look to him, finding his stare stuck on my thighs.
Those fiery eyes lift to mine.
Yeah ... this is gonna happen eventually.
He takes a step toward me, but Royce clamps a hand on his shoulder.
“Lights out, brother.”
Maddoc licks his lips and looks off, making me grin.
Captain collects all their phones, and turns to me. “Putting these in the safe for the night, so stick close by us or Leo, ‘cause you won’t be able to call us if you need to.”
“One, I don’t have your numbers. Two, I don’t have a phone,” I laugh and shut my light off, meeting them at the end of the hall. “And three, I’m a big girl. I—”
“Just do what you’re told, Raven.”
I slink up next to Maddoc, slowly planting my hand on his bare chest, ignoring the way it gets my pulse kicking. His skin’s as hot as he is. “Yes, boss.”
He frowns, knowing I’ll do whatever I please, just like I know he’ll be waiting to step in should he not approve. I’m learning the ways of the bossy bastard.
“Aight, let’s have some fun!” Royce shouts as Maddoc pulls the door open.
A burst of cold air hits us and I shiver.
Royce pulls me in, brushing his fingers along my arm playfully. He drops his lips to my ear. “Told you, warm body’ll work best for this.”
I laugh and shove him off.
With a lungful of air, I step outside first and the boys follow.
They weren’t playing.
Nothing but half-naked bodies everywhere.
Seems they’ve used the walking path to start lining up sleeping bags and I heard they’ve already got three people assigned to some - a couple who got caught fucking on the countertops in one cabin and a chick who forgot her lipstick got screwed as well. She tried to argue it, but apparently needing that perfect pout isn’t reason enough for a free pass inside.
What the hell will happen when the girls start having to pee, who knows.