Page 32 of Ravage

I wasn’t. Not even close.

“What about Vicious?” Chrissy said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Look at him… My God, he’s fine as hell. Just think about all the sexy stuff he could teach you.”

Vicious glanced over at me with a cocked brow. “Did I just hear that right?”

“Don’t say a fucking word.”

“Ah, fuck me.” A slow grin crossed his face as he glanced over at Emery. “I did hear right.”

“Don’t.”

“I wasn’t.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t.”

I glanced back over at the pool table, and they were still going at it. Emery had her back to me, but I could see her shaking her head. “No way.”

“Why?”

“Because!”

“That’s not an answer.”

Chrissy leaned in closer and said something I couldn’t quite make out. Emery paused, then replied, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

My blood ran cold.

Maybe? Maybe what? Maybe who?

I gripped the dart in my hand, and Vicious looked at me with concern. “Ravage?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t give a fuck about the damn game. All I had on my mind was Emery, drunker than she should’ve been, and her crazy friend who was trying to convince her to hook up with one of the brothers. And from the sound of it, she was actually considering the idea. What the fuck?

6

EMERY

“You should just go over and ask someone.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just go for it.” Chrissy motioned her hand at me. “You’re smoking hot. There’s not a man on the planet who wouldn’t want to hit that.”

“Okay.” I looked around the room as I said, “But who?”

There was only one man I was truly interested in sleeping with, but there was no way in hell he would ever agree to it, especially after the other night. Knowing he wasn’t an option, I turned and scanned the room, looking for someone who might work as a plan B when I heard Ravage growl, “Don’t even think about it.”

I glanced to my right and found him standing just a few feet away with a fierce expression on his face. He was clearly pissed, and I wasn’t sure why that anger was directed at me. “What are you talking about?”

“You,” he hissed. “And this half-cocked plan of yours…. Let… it… go.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk,” I lied.

“You’re drunk enough to think this is a good idea.”

“Maybe it is.”