I release him with a shove, and he stumbles forward.
The grin never leaves his face. “For the record, blow jobs do improve your mood. It’s science.”
I drop my ass onto the end of the bed, an ache throbbing between my shoulder blades. “You know what else is science? That my dick is bigger than yours.”
Motherfucker only chuckles. “You need a good fuck or fight, Viking. Let go of that bottled-up rage.”
Aurora stands in front of me, her hands on her hips. “Are you hurting?”
I roll my shoulders to ease the pain. My spine snaps, crackles, and pops like a Rice Krispies cereal commercial. “Maybe,” I grumble.
“Relax.” She gestures to the head of the bed. “We’re having a movie night.”
Ethan comes up behind her, clad in boxer briefs and an undershirt, and unzips the dress. It pools at her feet. She’s wearing a black lace bra and panty set, and my cock takes notice. He gives her his shirt, and she slides it on.
Gawking at them is creepy, so I stand, strip to my boxers, and settle against the headboard. Jackson follows suit, and now all of us are in bed, watching a romantic comedy with the lights off.
No big deal—this isn’t awkward as fuck, four grown adults having a sleepover.
Maybe I’m stressed, my mind too heavy, my body too tense. Maybe the asshole is right and I need to relieve some aggression—preferably on him. Maybe that’s what he was trying to do by taunting me.
Jax leans forward and tosses me a package of black licorice. “What about Coach?”
I toss it back harder than necessary because—gross. “What about him? I don’t look at his dick,” I reply, referring to my last statement about my dick being bigger.
He whips a Slim Jim at my face, narrowly missing Aurora, who’s between us, snacking on chocolate-covered peanuts. “But you look at my dick?”
I keep the Slim Jim, rip it open, and bite a piece off the top. “No. How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not interested in your dick. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m kidding, Viking. Relax. I love it when you blush.” He turns his attention to the movie. “I meant, were you listening to Ethan too?”
“Nope.” Lucas might have been, but he reviews so much surveillance footage that sex is nothing but background noise. “No need. We didn’t think he had anything on Kyle.” I take another bite of processed, spicy meat.
Jax peers around Aurora. “Then how’d you know about his family? When we were arguing in Laguna?”
The temperature in the room spikes, and sweat prickles my hairline. “Ah…” I set the Slim Jim on the nightstand to give me time to fabricate something believable that’s not a complete lie.
Three pairs of eyes drill into me, Aurora’s most of all, and my brain short-circuits. I’ve got nothing.
When they were discussing Ethan’s family, they were too far from the house for the microphones to pick up anything, especially with the wind off the ocean. It was one person who clued us in, and when I peer down at her, she reads the answer in my expression.
Her brows knit together. “Me? How?”
Might as well confess and get it over with. “You searched ‘Iron Eyes’ on your phone.”
“Oh, shit!” Jackson’s eyes widen with delight. “You accessed her phone? You may be the biggest stalker of us all.”
He’s amused, but Aurora clearly isn’t, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack a molar.
“Can you shut up for once?” I snap at Jax. “I don’t need your running commentary.”
Aurora stares at me, her gaze filled with betrayal. “You saw my Google searches? Everything?”
I take back my earlier awkwardness. I’d rather be having an orgy than have her look at me with disappointment and distrust.
There goes any chance of finishing that blow job. I’m going to need a damn wheelbarrow to carry around my blue balls.
I nod. “Yes.”
