Page 11 of Made for Cyn
“Sit your pretty little ass down, or you won’t like where I put you,” he says firmly.
“Put me? What—”
He sighs, cutting off my tirade, or what would have been, before nodding to Jig, who smiles ghoulishly, pushes back from his chair, and picks me up before I can do much more than squeal in protest.
“Hey,” I say, as he sits back down in his chair and wraps me up in his embrace.
What the hell?
Rigidly, I sit in his lap, refusing to touch his body, but he’s far stronger than I, so I don’t bother to fight as Iris sits, now opposite me, with wide eyes.
She darts a glance at Cyn before her brows furrow, and I search her gaze because maybe Iris isn’t as innocent as I thought. And if so, what does that mean for me?
“Now then,” Cyn says, ignoring the icy glare I shoot in his direction as Jig wraps me tighter and pulls me against his chest playfully.
“Relax, Little Bit. I don’t bite . . . hard,” he chuckles in my ear.
Squirming uncomfortably, I freeze when he groans, muttering, “That’s it, a little harder and to the right.”
“Jig,” Cyn growls, and we both pause.
Meeting Cyn’s icy stare, I grab the edge of the table, confused to see his eyes hardened orbs of granite, but since I’m here under duress, I merely raise my chin while Jig chuckles again and lets me loose.
After a protracted silence in which Cyn glares at Jig, he says, “It would seem that our little beauty here gave her cherry to none other than Rand over the weekend.”
“You didn’t!” Iris says and I gasp.
Cyn’s lips curve in a cruel smile as he looks between us, and giving Iris a rotten glare, I huff out a frustrated breath.
She essentially confirmed my status as a virgin to a group of virtual strangers, to my humiliation, and I wonder at her vehemence when she stands and leans across the table.
“Tell me you didn’t!”
Shrinking away from her feral stare, I slowly shake my head as she searches my eyes with an intensity that makes my stomach lurch.
Is she jealous? What about Bastion?
Slowly she comes back to herself and laughs uncomfortably because all eyes are on her, and with a silly grin and shrug of her shoulders, she sits back down in her chair.
The guys are stiff and silent around her, and Bastion has a rather frightening scowl on his face. There’s an underlying message here I’m not privy to, but Iris is because her face is pale as she stares at anything but Bastion beside her.
“You still hung up on Rand?” Bastion asks quietly, and Iris turns to him with a strained smile.
“No, of course not.” She reaches for his arm, but he shrugs her off, and she shrinks away with an strained smile.
Before this can get any further out of control and sensing this wasn’t about me at all, I pull from Jig’s loosened grip and place my hands on the table.
When all eyes turn to me, I say succinctly, looking into Cyn’s eyes, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t sleep with Rand.”
His mouth quirks in amusement. “Oh, it’s my business.”
“Really?” I cross my arms over my chest to keep myself from launching across the table and scratching his damn twinkling eyes out.
“Yes,” he says, leaning forward. “I’ve made it my business. Stay away from Rand if you know what’s good for you.”
Bastion’s head swings around as Iris gasps, and Jig says behind me, “What?”
“Screw you,” I sneer, before jumping from Jig’s arms, and dropping off the stage to stagger away.
