Page 99 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
Bohnes, too. Maybe Widow.
They’re probably all pissed-off by now.
I turn back to Aspen.
“Next time you see me,” he starts, his eyes heavy and half-lidded. “Act like you don’t know me. Hate me, Scarlett Force. Hate Aspen Kelly with your whole heart and soul. Stay the fuck away from me.”
I just stare at him. I can’t help that his chivalry is turning me on. I don’t understand it either. I’m confused by it.
“You know, if you hadn’t come in here shoving Lemon around, asking for my body like a trophy, I might’ve …” I trail off and then shrug. There’s no harm in being honest. It’s clear by the look on Aspen’s face that he has no intention of ever coming back here again. Hate him when I see him? I already hate him. But I’m also grateful for the intel. Now that I know it was his brother, I can make plans—likely involving Bohnes.
And fuck me, if he’s asking for a date to bury a body. What will he ask for in exchange for assassinating the mayor’s son? A wedding?
I’ll need his help … and maybe somebody else’s, too.
I don’t want my girls embroiled in this shit. The mayor’s son is a big target. I won’t drag them into a mess like this, precisely because of what happened to Evelyn. As the leader of my crew, this is my problem to solve.
“If I told you that I’d never stick my dick in a girl as pathetic as Lucy Hall, would you believe me?”
I pause there. Do I believe that, after the way I saw Lemon simpering on his arm? No, I don’t. But … maybe he’s got a personality disorder or something? Because I swear to fuck that while some days, I quite legitimately considered killing him, others … he’s like this.
Likable. Sexy. Broken.
His eyes tell a thousand stories in a single stare.
My nipples are so hard that when I move forward, they brush against his chest while no other part of me save for the toes of my shoes touch him. My hand finds the back of his neck as I lick rainwater away from my lips.
“I am not dating Lucy Hall; I promise you that.”
Such pretty words, such silver-tongued lies. What does it say about me that I want to believe him? That I’d love to unlock the forbidden person that is Aspen Kelly, the human hiding behind the mask. It says I like dangerous men, that’s what it says.
It says I like to take risks, to feel adrenaline pumping through my body like a drug.
That kiss last week was … it was fire.
I can’t stop thinking about it.
I’ve tried. It’s a fruitless exercise.
“If you’d never slept with Lemon,” I start, thinking of the first day we met, how absolutely disgusted I was by him. “Then maybe we’d have hooked up.”
“Just once,” he clarifies. “We could hook up once.”
“I’d be okay with that,” I say, and then my eyes are on his mouth. My fingers tease the wet strands of hair stuck to his neck, and then he’s bending down and putting his hands on my hips, and I’m lifting up slightly to meet him.
Our mouths come together in a vibrant burst of heat, like the sun is rising right now, even in the rain. I’m not prepared for it. Although I lost my cherry to Bohnes last month, I’ve kissed plenty of guys, enough to be able to parcel out a good kiss from a mediocre one from a bad one.
Aspen is a phenomenal kisser. The way he uses that full mouth makes me wonder how practiced he really is, how much of a whore he must be. He fakes genuine emotion in a way few guys can manage. I mean, they try. So many of them try because they think that’s what a girl wants to see and feel and hear: love and affection.
Those are dangerous things to want. I will not allow myself to crave them or think about them. So … Bohnes is just a fuckboy. And it’s probably a good thing that Widow and I aren’t allowed to bang it out.
It’s a blessing that I can only hook up with Aspen once.
But his mouth, it makes me think about and want strange things. He kisses me like he’s memorizing every tooth, every ridge on the roof of my mouth, the shape of my tongue. He kisses me like he needs the taste of me to survive.
This isn’t normal for a hookup.
It’s weird.
I should be scared.
Either he’s just that good of a liar or else … he’s insane. Because we don’t know each other at all, and I don’t feel anything for him other than a burning curiosity and an aching want that pools between my thighs in the form of arousal.
If he feels anything else for me, he’s as crazy as Kellin.
