Page 157 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
More than that, I can’t let Lemon marry him. I just can’t. If she does, she’s going to die.
Maybe in body, maybe just in spirit, I’m not sure. Either way, I can’t abandon one of my oldest friends, no matter how stupid she’s being right now.
“Rich bitch over here can’t accept that he lost,” Widow growls out, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Sweet baby Jesus, the man is hot. He reminds me of like, a werewolf or something. Untamed, bestial, alpha. I want him so bad in that moment that, when our eyes clash in a surge of heat, I know that I’m going to encourage him to challenge Bohnes … or ask Bohnes for his permission.
He phrased it the way he did for a reason, didn’t he?
“You won’t fuck Scarlett Force without my permission.”
Shit, and do I ever want his permission to be with Widow.
I want to fuck this man—desperately so.
I turn to Aspen.
Him? Not so much.
“All I said was that I don’t give a shit what the rules are here; I make my own rules.” Aspen saunters close to me, and my nostrils flare at the copper scent of blood mixed with the sharp burn of his spicy cologne. The sleeve of his suit jacket is torn at the shoulder, hanging loose off his muscular body, but his shiny diamond cufflinks are still firmly in place at the ends of both sleeves. He leans in, putting his mouth near my ear, and giving me the chills—and not in a good way. In a spider crawling down my spine sort of a way. “I told him that if you wanted to fuck me on the hood of my Mustang again, I’d be down for it.”
I glance away from him, toward the Mustang Fastback parked nearby, and my lips purse into a thin flat line.
“You, me, in the car now.” I point at the Chevelle, so beyond pissed off that I can barely form a coherent sentence. “I’ll deal with him,” I say, pitching my voice loudly enough for Nisha and Bastian to hear. Part of me wonders if getting in a car with this man right now is a good idea, but then, he’s clearly gotten the shit kicked out of him, and what can he do, with all of these people as witnesses? “Come find me in fifteen minutes if I don’t call you or come back.”
Nisha nods, but she doesn’t look any happier about my leaving with Aspen this time than she did the last.
Aspen smirks again, swiping at his face with his jacket sleeve, and then he follows me over to the Bohnes’ car and climbs in.
“Why are you here?” I demand as soon as his door is shut. I drive us slowly back down the road, intending on hitting up the same campground spot as last time. Only, for a very different reason. This isn’t about sex in the rain; this is about cutting ties.
Permanently.
“To see you, of course,” he replies smoothly, his voice crisp and cultured but missing that hint of a British accent that he has sometimes.
“You told me not to talk to you anymore,” I continue, glancing briefly in his direction. He’s frowning and staring at the dash with his eyes narrowed to thin slits. “So why show up here? Especially after last night. Threatening to kill my family, by the way. That was genius. You’ve really gone and done it, Aspen: I’m not into you anymore. It’s over. Leave me the fuck alone. Even if Widow hadn’t kicked your ass on the track, I would never sleep with you again.”
“Are you so sure about that?” he offers up, reaching out and putting a hand on my thigh. I slap it away, and he scowls at me so viciously that I actually almost turn the car around and head back to the track. “How dare you refuse me.”
“How dare I, huh?” I ask with a sharp laugh, pulling up next to the picnic table. I get out of the car immediately, unable to stand sitting in there with Aspen Kelly for another second. Actually, once I’m finished talking to the prick, I’m going to leave him here. He can either call someone to pick him up and give him the two-mile ride back to the track or else he can walk for all I give a shit.
I turn to face him, my knife strapped to my thigh, my phone in the pencil skirt’s tight front pocket. Aspen climbs out, but slowly, as if he has all the time in the world.
“Explain, now. Why did you come here tonight?” Part of me wonders if that obsession I tasted on his lips wasn’t more toxic than I originally thought. He might’ve told me to leave him alone, but what if he isn’t ready to give me up? “You’re engaged to my best friend, Aspen. What we did was wrong on so many levels.”
