Page 44 of Striking Range

“Junior year of high school, to Sally Crossworth.”

He gasps. “The varsity cheerleader?!”

I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face, chuckling lightly. “Yep.”

“Jesus. Where?”

I tsk. “You’re only allowed one question at a time, puppy.”

“Ugh.” His cheeks are flushed, whether from the conversation or the liquor, I’m unsure.

But we’re several shots deep and our lightweight asses—him more than me—are definitely feeling it now.

“My house,” I answer, despite the rules. “Ash and Felicita were out of town.”

He gasps again. “You whore!”

I laugh, taking another shot with Skylar not far behind. “So you’ve said.”

His smile falls away, suddenly serious as he says, “I don’t mean it, though. Not really.”

“I know.”

This soft change in the direction of our conversation makes the air feel thick and heavy. He’s staring at me, and I’m just now realizing how close we’re sitting.

It’s bright in the room with the curtains pulled open, and it’s still midday, but it might as well be midnight in a crowded club with the vibe that’s settling in here.

“Did you go home with him?” I guess I’ve drunk enough, gathered enough courage, for the question to slip out.

Skylar’s eyes are searching mine, and I’m not sure what they’re portraying, but he isn’t satisfied with the results. He doesn’t seem to be shocked that I’m asking.

“No,” he finally replies.

“Did he come here?”

“One question at a time, Evie.” He smirks, and I groan in annoyance. So close! “How does it feel to get your dick sucked?”

I have no time to dwell on the fact that his answer could mean that Jacob was in this apartment, because I’m now registering his follow-up questions and—what?!

My mouth falls open in shock. It takes me an embarrassingly long amount of time to close it, to answer. I can’t believe Skylar just asked me that. If he did sleep with Jacob last night, that guy fucking blows in bed.

He had Skylar naked and didn’t put his dick in his mouth?

“Uh.” I scratch the back of my neck, shifting my eyes to settle on the now half-empty bottle of Crown. He’s staring too intently, and it’s making me feel hot. “I guess it’s like…Man, I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like… warm?”

Skylar chuckles, shoving a shot in my direction. “Shitty answer. Drink.”

I take the shot and try again anyway. If anyone is going to explain to Skylar what it’s like to feel your dick shoved into something so hot and wet, it’s me.

I can imagine it happening now; I can imagine it’s him, and he loves it almost as much as I do.

“It’s like a concentrated pulse, almost. Hot and intense, and it makes your whole body tingle.” I’m not too sure if he’s understanding, or if I’m doing well enough at explaining, but Skylar is focused. Drawn in and hanging onto my every word.

I keep going, my mind’s eye giving me visions of my dirtiest fantasies. “And if it’s with someone you really like, you can barely even look at them.”

He leans forward, eyes wide. “Why?”

There’s something sexy about telling him—about teaching him—that’s sucking all of the awkwardness out of the conversation.