7
Sinclair
"See anything you like, baby?" Saint prowls over to her.
"Everything," she says breathily, as she flutters her patently false eyelashes at him.
Jesus, could these girls be any more obvious?
Saint looks her up and down, "You want to be treated like a lady, doll?"
She frowns, "Umm... I don't know."
He blows out a breath. "What belongs to you but other people use it more than you?"
She throws up her hands, "How am I supposed to know?"
He turns to sneer at us over his shoulder. "Goodluck with this one."
He brushespast her and ambles away.
She opens and shuts her mouth, "Umm, what was that?"
"That," Edward laughs, "was Saint." He jerks his chin at us, "And this is where I bow out, folks."
He heads for the door as the three other girls tumble in. The dark-haired girl from outside steps forward, stumbles, giggles, then straightens herself.
Weston prowls over to them, "Can I get you a drink, ladies?"
She titters, "You don’t think we are here to drink do you?"
The blonde shakes her head, glances past him to meet my gaze.
"And here I was, trying to be polite." Weston, widens his stance. "Guess I should simply say—go forth and claim your dates for the evening, people."
The dark-haired girl walks past Weston, heads straight for Damian, who's sprawled out on the couch.
"OMG, OMG, OMG!" Her chest heaves. "It's you. It's really you. You were so incredible out there." She folds her fingers together in front of herself. "You're soooo sexy."
I yawn.
Damian laughs, widens the gap between his legs. As if they'd rehearsed this before, she sinks down onto her knees between his thighs. She reaches down to unzip him, takes his cock out. Then without waiting for his invitation, she lowers her head and takes him in her mouth.
The squelching sounds of wet flesh meeting flesh fill the space and it's as if it’s a signal to the other three girls.
The third girl, the one with the long earrings, heads for Weston.
The fourth girl stares between Baron and Arpad. The twomen exchange glances, then step toward her. She licks her lips, then places her hands—one on each of their chests.
The blonde from before, smiles at me.
I glare back at her and she hunches her shoulders. Of course, she's not going to stand up to me. I've yet to meet a woman who's able to go toe-to-toe with me. It's almost too easy to get them to comply with my demands.
I crook my finger at her.
She swallows, then walks around her friend who has locked lips with Weston, past her other friend who's leaning back and into Arpad, her arms flung around him, while Baron has his hands down her pants.
She reaches me.
