Reaper's Fire
Page 25

“What a fucking cunt,” Cooper said, shaking his head. “Who does that?”
“Apparently Heather Brinks,” I told him, my face on fire. “She’s hated me for years. Heather’s high school boyfriend dumped her and then asked me to the prom. I thought Carrie was going to kill her that night in Olympia. Even now she practically hisses and spits at her every time they run into each other. My dad was shocked, although I have to give him credit—he never judged me. We decided to ride it out, but now half of Hallies Falls thinks I’m the Whore of Satan. Can you see why I might not want to live here anymore?”
“Yeah, I can see it,” Cooper admitted. “But Tinker, if you think about it, you didn’t actually do anything wrong. I mean, you probably should’ve locked the door, but other than that, the kid’s a legal adult, right?”
“Of course,” I said. “And it wasn’t like I hired him to sleep with me. Things just happened . . .”
“And you were drunk,” he added. “Was the guy drunk, too?”
“Maybe a little buzzed,” I admitted. “But nowhere near as drunk as me.”
“So he saw his chance and went for it,” he continued, still smiling. “Can’t blame him—you’ve got a bangin’ body, Tinker. He knew what he wanted and took it. Not his fault his mom’s a bitch. You know, if a guy fucks a stripper for free, everyone thinks he’s a stud—why should this be any different? And why do you care what a bunch of small-minded cunts think anyway? Not like you lost any friendships that matter. You can’t tell me that Carrie and Darren give a flying fuck about any of this.”
It took me a minute to answer, because I was still hung up on the “bangin’ body” comment. Then I processed the rest of his words.
“Carrie said she was jealous,” I admitted. “Said she’d have done him in a heartbeat if it wasn’t for Darren. And I think Darren just enjoyed how pissed off Maisy was. She’s been a bitch to all of us for years.”
Cooper smiled.
“So there you have it. If it makes you feel better, I’ve fucked all kinds of strippers. Managed a club for a couple years, actually, and if they play the game right, they make damned good money. And they’re real people, just like the rest of us—it’s not like you went down on a donkey. Hell, the kid got lucky. Gotta admire that kind of initiative on his part.”
I stared at him, trying to wrap my head around what he’d said.
“It really doesn’t bother you, does it?” I asked. Cooper shook his head.
“Nope, it really doesn’t bother me,” he replied, his eyes growing darker. “I’d have done the same damned thing in his place.”
Wait. Did I hear that right? Holy shit!
“Are you hitting on me?” I asked, unnerved. “Because I know you have a girlfriend. Just because I slept with a stripper doesn’t mean I’m a slut.”
He caught and held my gaze, dark eyes intense.
“I’m telling the truth,” he replied, his words slow and deliberate. “You’re smart and sexy and hot as hell, and if I was free I’d be all over that. But you’re right, I’ve got a girlfriend and I’m not looking to break up with her. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a beautiful woman when I see her. Now, you want to eat that cupcake or not?”
 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN
 

GAGE “Can you share some of the blanket with me?”
I reached for it as Tinker nodded, eyes glued to the TV. I’d convinced her to stay and watch a movie after dinner, which hadn’t been easy. Not sure I’d ever seen anyone turn as red as she did while she was telling her sex tape story.
Have to admit, it caught me off guard.
I’d heard rumors around town about her. Not that I’d paid much attention—backstabbing bitches flapping their mouths had never interested me. Hearing what she’d done, though . . . I was sort of impressed she’d gone for it, and more than a little jealous of the little fuckweasel, because he knew what that tight cunt of hers felt like and I could only imagine.
Damn.
As for judging her, those bitches could eat shit and die. Wasn’t like she’d done anything that bad. I’d fucked more strippers than I could count, and considering the crimes I’d pulled in the last few weeks alone, Tinker was a goddamned angel. Even so, I’d known she’d start avoiding me if I let her leave while she felt uncomfortable, so the movie was serving a purpose.
But now I was starting to second-guess my plan.
For one thing, there was a very sexy woman sitting less than six inches from me. I didn’t want the blanket because I was cold—I needed cover for my massive boner. I couldn’t even focus on the show, because I was too busy watching another movie in my head.
Tinker’s sex tape.
She’d been on top. I kept picturing it, only instead of some dumbass kid, she was riding me. Did she sit straight up, or lean over, letting her boobs dangle right over his mouth? That’s what I’d want—tits flying just within reach, and my hands on her ass to guide her. I shifted on the couch, hating the fact that I couldn’t do jack shit about this growing, aching need.
How long would it take to finish up business with the Nighthawks? Too fucking long.
“I can’t believe how late it is,” Tinker said, yawning, and I realized the movie had ended. Now she stretched upward, the blanket falling to her waist as her boobs pushed forward.
God, how much should a man be expected to take?
I should’ve stayed away from her completely—that’d been the plan—but something had snapped when I’d seen her out in the courtyard. Couldn’t remember the last time I’d met a woman like Tinker. She was smart and sexy and funny, and she worked damned hard to take care of her family and business. Sure, I wanted to fuck her—you’d have to be gay not to—but I respected her, too.
“I should probably get going,” she said, offering me a smile so sweet I wanted to bite her lips. “I like to check on Dad before going to sleep, and I’ve got to be up early in the morning. I’ve got to package orders for the courier tomorrow—if they aren’t ready by two p.m., I’m screwed.”
I considered rolling over on top of her. Pushing her down into the couch cushions, shoving my leg between hers, and showing her what a real man feels like.