The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (50 page)

Not wanting to interrupt my best friend’s dance number, I wait ‘til after the song is over to demand a break. I grab his arm, motioning to Juls, and give them the universal hand gesture for ‘let’s go get a drink’. They both nod, Joey reaching up and wiping the sweat off his forehead and Juls resituating her dress, which shifted on her body.

We all walk up to the bar, and Joey motions for one of the four bartenders. “Helloooooo. Seriously? How can you ignore this?” Juls and I chuckle as he frantically waves his hand out, desperately trying to get someone’s attention. Just then, Brooke comes stumbling up to the group, rubbing her left eye.

“Does anyone have any Visine?” she asks, dropping her hand down and blinking rapidly.

“Where have you been?” Juls asks. “And why the hell do you need Visine?”

She rolls her one eye that isn’t being rubbed. “I got semen in my eye.”

I don’t know what the hell I was expecting her to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. And given Juls’ and Joey’s reaction, they weren’t expecting it either. I slap my hand over my mouth to contain my hysteria while Juls throws her head back, unashamedly laughing her ass off. Joey covers his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking with his laughter.

Brooke’s face turns bright red as she rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “Oh, like none of you have ever had a face shot go wrong. This really fucking burns. I’ve been flushing it out for the past hour.”

“Oh, my God, Brooke,” I barely get out through my chuckles. “Why did you let him shoot it on your face?”

She stares at me like I’ve just asked her the most ridiculous question. “I’m not swallowing a stranger’s load. It was either that or on my dress, and this shit was expensive.” She takes note of the laughter around her and huffs loudly. “It was an executive decision I’m seriously regretting. Someone Google whether or not it’s possible to get permanent damage from this.” The three of us are too busy roaring with laughter to be able to Google anything. Brooke surveys us with annoyance. “Asses. Next time you get cum in your eye, you’re on your own.”

“Finally,” Joey says through a giggle as one of the bartenders walk up to where we’re standing. He’s holding a bright pink cocktail and places it on the table in front of us. “Uh, I didn’t order yet. Although, that looks delicious.”

“It’s for her.” The bartender motions at me with his head. “From the guy at the end of the bar.”

The four of us all turn toward where he has directed, the laughter fading out as we all seemingly focus on the same individual.

Fucking motherfucker
.

Bryce is staring at me with that same smug smirk, which is apparently a permanent fixture on his face. He’s as eerie looking as I remember, with those yellow eyes that seem to glow in the bar, like a stalking reptile.

“What is that fucker doing here?” Joey asks, moving closer to me. I register his question but can’t seem to find the words. I’m too busy coming up with ways to lay this asshole out.

“Damn. He’s hot. Who is that guy?”

The three of us all turn to see a very horny-looking, one-eyed Brooke.

“Really, Brooke? You just gave some stranger head and you’re patrolling for more ass? Maybe you should pace yourself,” Joey says before returning his gaze back to Bryce. Brooke simply shrugs her response as he continues. “He must have a death wish to be in the same building as you. Reese is going to freak out.”

“Is that Bryce?” Juls asks. I nod and see her eyes widen. “Shit. You were right, sweets; he is creepy looking.”

Creepy seems to downplay it. The man makes my skin crawl, and this is only the third time I’m seeing him. I step up to the bar and grab the drink off the counter. There’s a possibility that what I’m about to do will get me kicked out of this pristine club, but right now, I don’t care. I’ve had an amazing time with my friends and if it ends now, I’m fine with that.

“Dylan! Hold up!”

I hear Joey’s voice behind me as I move between the patrons. Bryce keeps his chilling smile on me as I inch closer, either not knowing or not caring how his gesture is being received. In fact, if anything, his stupid face seems to break into an even-bigger grin as I step next to him.

“Dylan, it’s been too damn long since I laid my eyes on that tight body of yours. Remind me to thank your fiancé for bringing you along on this little trip,” he spews through his venomous grin. His eyes slowly rake over my body, giving extra attention to my breasts. “Damn, girl, that dress belongs on my bedroom floor. Wanna get out of here and make that happen?”

I waste no time in drenching his face in my bright-pink cocktail, placing my now-empty glass down on the bar and gaining the attention of everyone around us. “Go fuck yourself, Bryce. Even if I wasn’t with Reese, I would never go anywhere with you. The dickhead vibe you got going on doesn’t really do anything for me. Nor do your lame-as-shit pick-up lines.” I feel movement at my back as Juls, Joey, and a stunned-looking Brooke flank my side.

Bryce wipes the drink from his eyes, not dropping his smile even the slightest. “I heard you had a bit of a temper. Does Reese like that? Do you fuck him angry?”

“Oh, no, you did not just say that,” Joey spits, stepping closer to Bryce.

I hold my arm out and stop him from getting in Bryce’s face. “Don’t, Joey. He isn’t worth getting arrested over.” Because that’s exactly what would happen. Bryce is such a punk, he’d press charges instead of manning up and actually fighting back.

Joey looks down at me, nostrils flaring. “He’s not going to talk to you like that. Let me handle this.”

“Oh, but I’d much rather Dylan handle me, Joey.” Bryce leans against the bar, his white polo shirt now stained light pink. “You want that, don’t you, baby? You want to handle me?”

“Fuck you, asshole. I really hope we’re all around to see you get your ass beat,” Juls says, grabbing mine and Joey’s elbows and tugging us back. Bryce’s smile touches his eyes, making them practically twinkle at the sentiment. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Just for the record: up close, you’re not hot,” Brooke adds behind us. I turn and see her flip him off over her shoulder.

I place my hand on Joey’s back, making sure he’s moving with me as we both follow Juls away from the bar and toward the entrance. “Goddamn it,” I utter to myself. Nothing would’ve pleased me more than to slap the snot out of that jerk. Well, except for maybe throwing my first punch. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do anything.

We all pile into the limo and as soon as we get situated, Brooke opens the liquor cabinet. “I don’t know about you three, but I need to get trashed.”

A collective “yeah” fills the inside of the limo.
Alcohol after that encounter? Yes. Absolutely.
I find the button that lowers the window dividing us and the driver, dropping it down. I meet the man’s eyes in the rear view mirror.

“Would you mind driving around for a while before you take us back to the house?” I ask him.

“Not at all, Miss.”

“I cannot wait until Reese finds out about this. That prick is going to get the ass-beating of the century,” Joey says, taking a champagne bottle from Brooke. She hands Juls and me ours after opening them.

“Reese isn’t finding out about his,” I inform him after taking a swig. I glance between the three pairs of eyes on me, all filled with concern. “I mean it. This account he and Ian have with Bryce is important enough for Reese to put aside his hate for that asshole and actually work with him. If we say anything, he’ll drop the account for sure, and most likely go to prison for murder. He doesn’t need to know. Nothing happened.”

Juls taps her free hand nervously on her knee. “Shit. That account is huge. Ian said it’s the biggest one their company has taken on. They’re going to make an insane amount of money off it.”

“Who gives a shit about the money?” Joey asks with a clipped tone. “That prick seriously crossed the line, and Reese needs to know about it.”

“Joey, please, let it go.” My voice is firm and final. I can’t have Reese finding out about this; he will surely go homicidal on Bryce’s ass. And it really wasn’t that big a deal, so there’s no reason to involve him. Nothing happened.

“Fine. Whatever.” Joey tips his bottle back, taking several loud chugs. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when he finishes. “How many bottles are in there, Brooke?”

Brooke opens the cabinet and ducks her head inside. “A lot. It’s fully stocked.”

“Good,” he says.

“Good,” Juls echoes.

“Fucking great,” Brooke adds.

I take a massive drink, letting the alcohol burn away the memory of those sinister, yellow eyes.

Each and every bottle that the limo came stocked with is emptied, and the mood inside the vehicle elevates with each sip taken. There’s dancing, laughing, and Brooke, who cracks us up with her recount of the face shot heard round the world. When we’re all fully tipsy, giggling loudly in the back and falling all over each other, the limo comes to a stop.

“Oh, my God. This was so much fun,” I choke out, wiping underneath my eyes. I am way past the point of tipsy, as is everyone else in the vehicle.

“Brooke, you are fabulous. Any time you want to come out with us, feel free,” Joey slurs out. “That cum-shot story won me over.”

She smiles up at him, pushing her curly brown hair out of her face. “Even though my eye is still slightly blurry, that guy can come at me any time. He was smoking hot.” Slapping her hand over her mouth, she spits out a laugh. “Psst! Get it?
Come
at me!”

Hysterical laughter fills the limo as the door opens, prompting Brooke and Juls to climb off the floor they had slid onto sometime during our joy ride.

“If you still want a bed, Brooke, you can share ours,” Joey says as he crawls along the seat to the open door. “But I’m sleeping in the middle. Nobody touches my baby.”

Brooke’s mouth drops open. “Really? We get to snuggle?”

Juls and I both gawk at each other in complete shock. Joey must be out-of-his-mind drunk to have offered that. I smile at Juls and motion for her to let this one play out. The morning after should be quite interesting to say the least.

We all file out, everyone’s laughter fading into the air as they step out of the car. I steady myself on my feet, grabbing Joey’s arm for stability, and lift my head toward the front door of our house. Ian and Billy are both sitting on the stairs, grinning amusingly in the direction of the four of us. But I don’t linger on them. I can’t, because Reese’s frame is filling the doorway; his very tense frame. As my eyes focus on his face, the hard lines, the tight jaw, and those eyes of his that are heavy with disapproval, I’m quickly reminded of my wardrobe selection for the evening and the reaction I knew I’d get. What were my thoughts earlier?
This is my bachelorette party. I’m supposed to look sinful.

Dylan Sparks. You asked for it.

“Uh oh,” I whisper, hearing Juls’ and Joey’s muffled laughs next to me. My eyes widen as Reese makes his way down the stairs, walking between Ian and Billy who both stand. I step to my left and slide behind my very tall assistant, concealing my inappropriate outfit. Like that will do me any good. One, he’s already seen it, and two, it’s Reese; nothing stands in his way of me.

Joey steps aside and looks over at me with raised eyebrows. “Are you nuts? He’ll chuck me across the street to get to you.”

I open my mouth to argue but close it when I realize he’s probably right.

“You four look like you’ve had a nice time. I think Brooke wins for most drunk,” Ian says with a teasing tone, crooking his finger and motioning for Juls to come to him. Juls immediately begins walking as Brooke moves past her and practically trips up the stairs, laughing in the process.

Joey leans over and kisses the top of my head. “Good luck, cupcake.” He moves away from me and grabs Billy’s hand. Billy winks at me over his shoulder before leaning in and kissing Joey.

“Oh, thanks a lot. Way to stick with your fellow woman,” I yell out, seeing everyone turn and laugh at me as Reese stops inches away. I can practically feel the irritation boiling off him, radiating in waves directly onto me. I customarily tug the hem of my dress down, knowing full well it won’t do me any good now, and then I look at him, all 6 foot 3 inches of him. He’s so hot when he’s angry that I momentarily consider wearing dresses like this daily, consequences be damned. This look is worth it. I’m certain there is no other man who can command attention the way Reese does, especially when he’s pissed. I glance up at him from underneath my lashes, connecting briefly with his eyes before dropping my gaze and letting it take in his casual-yet-ridiculously-sexy polo shirt and khakis. “Hi. You look nice.”

Understatement of the century.
Reese has probably never looked
nice
a day in his life.

He steps into me, flattening my body against the limo and letting me know that even though he’s about to freak the hell out on me for my dress selection, because that’s what he does, he can’t deny the way I affect him. I let out a soft gasp as he presses his lips to my temple. “What the fuck are you wearing, Dylan?”

“Uh, a dress. You never labeled this one.”

“That’s because I never fucking saw it,” he growls. “Did you really think I’d be okay with you wearing this out tonight? This shit barely covers you.”