Zane was off the couch and grabbing Mara, holding her tight against him. “I’m sorry, babe. I wasn’t ignoring you. I just…couldn’t answer right then.”
“And why is that, Zane, pray tell?” Dru asked, her voice heavily inflected with sarcasm.
I eyed my brother. “This may not be the best moment for this discussion.”
Zane shook his head incrementally. “It’s…not like that. Not like you’re thinking.”
We certainly didn’t need the trouble, so just for that reason I hoped I was reading him right. “It’s not?”
“Nope.”
“You two macho fucksticks need to quit talking in riddles and start coming out with explanations,” Dru snapped. “Now.”
Zane sighed, and sat back down, pulling Mara onto his lap. “Okay, here’s the truth. Those four assholes who tried to rape that girl in the fancy clothes—what was her name? Eve? Eva? Something like that. Well…I felt like they needed to be taught more of a lesson than Bax put on them. I didn’t personally do anything to them, though. All I did was make a phone call to a buddy who happens to be in the area on…ah…vacation, let’s say. This buddy of mine specializes in teaching what you might call unforgettable lessons, and in such a way as to make sure none of it ever comes back to any of us.” He waved a hand. “And that’s all any of you need to know, or everwillknow.” He said this last part with a finality none of us dared to challenge, even Mara.
“That girl in the fancy clothes is named Evangeline,” I put in. “And she’s here, in the shower.”
A fact I’ve been trying like hell not to think about. Unsuccessfully. I mean, that body? Goddamn. I’d sell a kidney for a single glimpse at that body of hers naked and dripping wet. Her long black hair, soaked and sticking to her tan skin? Those tits and that ass, with water sliding over her lush curves? Those eyes, wide and green and staring up at me as I—
Fuck. No, no, no, nope. Can’t go there.
Down boy, Baxter.
I don’t think Zane missed the way my eyes glazed over, just then.
“Isshe, now?” he drawled, smirking. “Interesting.”
“Shut the fuck up, Zane,” I snarled.
“Testy much, Bax?” He chuckled. “Sorry to say, kid, but I think she’s out of your league.”
“There’s no league. It’s not like that,” I insisted. “She needed help, and I helped her. That’s it. Quit riding my dick about it.”
The bathroom door opened, and Evangeline wandered out. Her hair was damp, and blacker than ever, reflecting the light. She had a brush in one hand, and was running it through her hair. I clenched my jaw and curled my hands into fists, because I was about to moan out loud from raw, unbridled lust.
The sweatpants were faded gray, tight around her hips and butt, loose through the legs, and tight around her calves, tugged up to just beneath her knees. The T-shirt was a green, white, and blue Seahawks raglan shirt, and it was cut to fit snug, but it was too small for her, and she wasn’t wearing a bra and this apartment was a little chilly at the moment, and she had tits for fuckin’ days, and I couldn’t breathe because all the blood was flowing to my cock.
Because…
Jesus tits.
Girl had Jesus Tits. Capital letters. Wait, that’s not good enough. All caps: JESUS TITS.
I mean…damn. The Hermes shirt and whatever bullshit bra she’d been wearing before did NOT do her rack justice. I could see them perfectly behind the cotton, their beautiful teardrop shape, heavy and natural and jiggling tantalizingly with each step she took, and her nipples were so hard and sharp they could just about poke straight through the thin cotton. It was an old shirt, well worn, and the cotton was so thin I could almost see the color of her skin, and the pink of her nips…
I was staring like a hormonal teenager at a titty club for the first time. I wrenched my eyes away, but not before meeting hers, and I realized she’d caught me staring. She shifted uncomfortably, pivoting away, her shoulders curling in, as if she was self-conscious, and then she straightened in defiance, her chin lifting, and she turned back to face the room, and me. It took a supreme effort of will to keep my eyes firmly fixed on her eyes as I addressed her.
“Hey, Evangeline. Feeling any better?” I asked.
She nodded, leaning against the wall in the entry of the hallway. “A shower does work wonders.” She eyed the crowd in the living room, which had grown substantially since she got in the shower, now that Mara and Zane had joined Claire, Dru, and me. “What’s…what’s going on?”
“This is an intervention,” I joked. “We’re all here because we’re concerned about you, Evangeline. This is a circle of trust, okay? You can talk to us without judgment.”
She smirked. “I wish I could laugh, but I’ve been on the receiving end of an intervention that started almost verbatim like that.”
I guffawed. “You? Hell, nah. What could you have been into that you needed an intervention?”
She shrugged, keeping a straight face. “You’d be surprised. What if I’m not as straight-laced and fancy as you assume?”
