“A lady of the court never pays for her own gowns,” he purrs, looking down at me with just a hint of a wicked smile. “I’ve got it, Your Majesty.”
“Stop calling me that,” I say with a laugh, pulling away from him. The three of us step out into the sunshine, pausing at a bookstore down the street before rejoining the others at the café.
I try to be surreptitious when I slip over to the manga section, looking for more yaoi. There’s one wrapped in plastic that says Explicit: Eighteen Plus Only! on the back. One corner’s already torn, and it looks like someone peeked inside already. I mean, since the deed is already done … I peek myself and feel my cheeks flush when I see the explicitness of the art.
Whoa.
Definitely getting this one.
“What’s this? More of your gauche manga?” Creed asks, surprising me by drawing the manga out of my hand and over my head. I spin around to find him standing behind me, dressed in a loose, slightly wrinkled blue button-down and jeans. He doesn’t even try to hide his actions from the bookshop employees when he peels the plastic off and flips right to a dirty scene. His pale blond brows go up. “My, my, Marnye. What have we got here?”
“Give that back,” I whisper, trying to snag it from him, but he’s quick, lifting it out of reach so he can stare at the two dudes, um, well, to put it nicely … fucking? Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.
“Whoooooa there,” Zayd says, slumping his inked body over Creed’s shoulders and peeking at the pages as Creed frowns at him, and scowls. “What the fuck is this? Sensitive Pornograph? Is that the title, really, Charity? The Queen of the Elite really is a perv.” Zayd grabs the manga and tucks it under his arm, reaching up to twist some of his sea green hair into little spikes. “I’ll buy this for you; maybe it’ll give you ideas for our next fuck.”
Creed sneers, and leans his shoulder against one of the bookcases, like it’s simply too much effort for him to stand up straight. Like any of the super-rich, he doesn’t seem to care that he’s in a public space. No, the whole world just belongs to him; that’s the way things should be. Really, they’re all like that at times.
“Gee, thanks,” I say, but my cheeks are flushed anyway. Between schoolwork, cheerleading, harp, and hanging out with everyone … there’s not a lot of time for sex. Or maybe I’m just not making time for it because I don’t know how to balance all these guys? In reality, I sort of went from zero to a hundred pretty quick. Virgin to … having been with three different dudes.
I exhale as Creed narrows his blue eyes on Zayd.
“From what I hear, you really were a two-pump chump. Maybe that should be the name of your next album? How to Come Quick and Leave Disappointment in My Wake. It’s as long and stupid as your nickname.”
“Hah,” Zayd says, rolling his green eyes and then reaching over my head to grab another manga off the shelf. This one’s about a haunted hot springs hotel haunted by a sexy ghost. I see a lot of boobage as Zayd flips through the novel. This, too, he tucks under his arm. He snaps his fingers in Creed’s direction. “You’re hilarious, bro. Really, bravo.” He faux claps his inked hands, and then flashes me a wicked grin, the two silver piercings in his lip sharp and pointed like arrows. I’ve already tried running my tongue over them, and all they do is make it tingle. I thought they’d hurt at first, but they don’t. I really like them actually.
“What are you two doing here anyway? I thought you were waiting at the café.”
“Eh, Lizzie and Tristan got into this super deep conversation,” Zayd says with a shrug as Creed watches him with a sharpness that belies the nonchalant slump of his beautiful body. Carefully, he tucks his pale fingers into his pockets. “Talk about boring as fuck. We bailed on that quick.”
“You are such an impossible idiot,” Creed drawls, turning his attention over to me. “I’m sorry, Marnye. He doesn’t mean to be crass, rude, and oblivious. He can’t help it. He has no mom, his dad’s a crack-addicted groupie-obsessed rockstar, and his grandma is so enamored with the family business, she once forgot him at a summer camp, and the police had to drive him home. Remember that, Zayd?”
“Why don’t you get fucked?” Zayd purrs, but he stalks off with a scowl, and I can tell Creed’s hit a nerve.
“You’re being a bully,” I tell him, crossing my arms and giving him my sternest stare. He turns back to me and then shrugs his shoulders so loosely and lazily that it almost looks like an accident.
