Total D*ck(17)

“I don’t cave to peer pressure.” I lifted my chin, trying to keep the air of superiority I’d learned at my mother’s knee and wielded like a weapon ever since. Problem was, I could feel the giggles rising in my chest again.

“You drink, I drink. Come on.” Carey lifted his glass, his boyish grin resurfacing.

“God, you two are the worst.” I sighed, already defeated. But I had no problem losing this battle if it meant I’d win the war. One more glass, and Carey would be eating out of my hand—unless I was passed out on the floor. “This is the last one. Come on, bottoms up.” I grabbed my glass and drank it down as Carey matched me.

We plopped our glasses back on the table and I wiped my mouth with my napkin.

“Now it’s a party.” Kennedy poured another round with a steady hand.

I ripped a piece of bread from the baguette and slowly ate it, hoping it would soak up some of the liquor in my stomach.

“Let’s get to know each other better.” Kennedy grinned. “Scarlett, tell us about your first time.”

I spat the bread out on a particularly unladylike guffaw. Putting my hand to my mouth, I closed my eyes. Somehow, my vision still swam even in the dark. Kennedy and Carey laughed. When I opened my eyes, Carey was leaning over toward me.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to share.” He shook his head in a conciliatory way, his eyes half closed.

A bright flash of lightning hit nearby and the ensuing rumble of thunder shook the silverware and had the chandeliers tinkling. The rain pelted down outside, the street dark and gloomy while we were warm and safe inside the posh restaurant.

“In that case, let’s start with something easier then. Carey, tell me your hacker name.” Kennedy didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the alcohol or the storm, his eyes bright.

“Oh, come on. I know you know.” Carey glanced from me to Kennedy.

Kennedy widened his eyes, giving a look of innocence. “No, I don’t.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Carey asked me.

“No. It’s your secret to tell, not mine.” I sipped my Malbec, the thought of not drinking any more alcohol suddenly a preposterous one.

Kennedy rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. “This is going to be good. I can feel it.”

“Drumroll, please,” Carey directed, sloshing his wine over the edge of his glass as he gestured at Kennedy, who dutifully began drumming on the table with his long index fingers.

“My name was . . . Gorepheus.” Carey tipped backed his glass as Kennedy stopped the drumroll.

“Are you shitting me? You’re the Gorepheus? The hacker who shut down the U.S. government for three entire days with a never-ending Rickroll?”

Carey grinned, his cheeks red from wine or embarrassment, and pulled up his shirt sleeve. There, in wavy ink, was Gorepheus’s online signature—a red pill with blood leaking from it. “That was me. That’s why the U.S. government keeps a close tab on my activities and calls me in to work for them all the time. And, sometimes, I get to freelance for beautiful attorneys with the nicest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.” He patted my knee under the table and rested his hand there.

I snorted and tried to frown at him as I pushed his hand away.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Carey grinned and drank some more.

“Trying wha—?”

“Nothing.” I kicked Kennedy’s foot to shut him up. He must have seen my tiny act of violence as an invitation, because he reached under the table and gripped my knee, squeezing lightly. I knew I wouldn’t be able to dislodge him as easily as I had Carey, so I just let him play his game while I played mine.

“I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.” I placed my hand on Carey’s forearm, and he leaned toward me a little. “I’d never be able to get through all the computer mumbo jumbo if it weren’t for you.” I rubbed his arm back and forth.

Carey shifted in his seat and Kennedy moved his fingertips under the hem of my skirt. I ignored the tingles rocketing up my leg and focused on Carey.

“It’s not that complicated. Not for me, anyway. Here, hand me your phone.” He smiled and scooted his chair closer to mine as I grabbed my phone from my purse and slid it to him.

Kennedy’s fingers crept higher, his index finger teasing along my inner thigh to the point where I had to clench my eyes shut and open them again to focus. He only smirked at me as Carey cozied up at my side.

Carey took my phone and tapped through menus and screens so fast that I was lost. I was lost anyway, because Kennedy’s fingers were making me stupid. I clamped my knees shut, trapping his hand between my legs and not letting him go any farther.