Page 37 of Trailer Trash

Killian

For one second, I wait for someone to laugh and prove Harlow is joking.

The guys say something I can’t hear, but Keysha talks over them, even louder than Harlow. She is a pretty black girl with a tight body. She is drawing attention as much as Harlow.

“My girl isn’t lying. I’m her best friend. I would know.”

I stare, unblinking and enthralled by the spectacle before me.

Harlow moves onto the steps just long enough to turn around and shakes her ass, teasing them. This is criminal. She’s got a thong shoved up those exceptionally round cheeks.

“Do ya want this?” Harlow says.

The fucker drooling over her nods.

She giggles like a schoolgirl. “Then you need to take me out on a date first.”

I cringe.

A date. That word disgusts me. I hate the idea of her swapping frumpy panties to impress some other man.

Now, I’m pissed.

I need to get rid of this beer, this blonde, and that bastard who’s too close to what’s mine.

Then—

She sees me from across the pool. She gasps. Shocked or happy, I can’t tell which.

I set the beer on the pool deck and straighten, unsure how this will go. She’s already on the move, heading straight for me. The water envelops her body as she swims to the deep end, where I’m still lounging on the ledge. She kneels on it beside me, her small hands on her thighs.

The weird thing is, my stomach fucking jumps. I like her this close. I spot the guys across the pool staring, and I can’t help but grin smugly. The girl came to me, and she doesn’t look back at those losers.

“Killian,” she says, her eyes glassy and concerned. “What are you—”

She stops herself short.

“This is a party.”

I nod.

“But you can’t be around drugs and stuff.”

I nod again, watching her, learning what drunk-Harlow is like.

“Why?” she whines, as if she genuinely cares. Her eyes spot the beer. “Oh, no! Have you been drinking? No! Kill-E-en!”

Her voice is so different. It’s not her usual self-righteous tone. It’s high-pitched and needy.

“Sorry,” I say, but I don’t mean it.

Her arms suddenly encircle my neck, and her chest presses against mine. Is she hugging me?

Oh fuck, she’s straddling me.

Hell yeah.

She rests back, her weight fully on my lap. Her eyes bore into mine as she cups my face.