SOUNDTRACK
Songs that I listened to while writing, songs that made me think of the story, and a couple that inspired actual scenes.
● Ariana Grande – Break Free ● Elle King – Ex's & Oh's ● Annie – Chewing Gum ● Rihanna – Love on the Brain ● Justin Bieber – Sorry ● Metro Station – Shake It ● The Killers – Mr. Brightside ● Fall Out Boy ft. Demi Lovato – Irresistable ● Maroon 5 – Misery ● U2 – With or Without You ● Panic! At the Disco – The Death of a Bachelor
BLOCK PARTY
A Twin Estates Novel
excerpt
“Oh, fuuuuuck.”
Liam rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake up. He eventually managed to prop himself up and he squinted his eyes, glancing around. When he remembered where he was, he let out a deep sigh.
“Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me,” he grumbled.
He was in his office. His desk light and the tall lamp in the corner were still on, glaringly bright so early in the morning. At least his overhead lights weren't on, thank god. Every inch of him was sore and tired, including his eyeballs.
He fully sat upright, yawning and scratching his fingers through his hair. He hated when he slept in his office. The room was equipped for it, luckily – he had an en suite, and when he'd first bought the place, he'd spent long hours there. Being so tall and lanky, he loathed sleeping on couches, so he'd had a Murphy bed installed. Once in a while, it still came in handy.
His eyes landed on his desk, where the empty bags and containers from last night's dinner were still laying. The awkward taco dinner he'd had with Wulfric and Katya. He groaned and dropped his head.
Fuuuuuuuck. This is bad. This is so fucking bad. I have a disease, I swear to god.
“It's too early,” a voice next to him mumbled.
He glanced to his right and sighed, then turned so he could fully appreciate the view.
Then again, as far as diseases go, I suppose this one isn't so bad …
A woman was sleeping on her side, her back to him. The sheets had slipped down throughout the night and were just draped over her hips, barely hiding her naked ass from sight. An ass that was absolute perfection. He also knew that hiding from view on the other side of her was a pair of equally amazing breasts that defied gravity to the point one would almost think they were fake. But after handling them multiple times, he was positive they were real. Real, and tan, and soft, and delicious, and …
“If you keep staring at me, I'll leave,” she grumbled.
… aaaaaand I always forget that part. God, what a bitch.
He only knew her as Halsey – her last name. They never seemed to get around to first names. She'd shown up at his club the night before, shocking him a little. He'd only met her once before, at the Toccis' barbecue. After his fist fight with Wulfric, he'd gone to blow off steam by sulking in the Toccis' pantry and she'd already been hiding in there, sneaking a joint.
He had eyeballs, so of course right off the bat, Liam had found her attractive. Then she'd opened her mouth and he'd quickly learned that sarcasm was her middle name. They'd butted heads and had both refused to leave their little sanctuary on account of the other. They then got into a heated argument about Katya and Wulf, which had caused the tension between them to rise, which had bizarrely evolved into a sexual kind of tension, and before he knew what was happening, he had his tongue down her throat and she had her hand down his pants, and suddenly he was fucking a stranger against a sink in the home of people he'd just met.
I'm going to the nastiest parts of hell, I'm sure of it.
“Get up, I have to get out of here,” he snapped back, though he made no move to leave the bed. Instead, he actually laid back down, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.
How did he always find himself in these situations? One moment he was looking into Katya's eyes, and he was so sure he could be perfect for her. The next, he was looking at Wulf's smug little shit eating smirk, and he was so sure he could beat the other man at something.
Then a pair of tits and ass walks into his club, and Liam's thought process goes out the window. He'd told Halsey his name in that pantry, somewhere between a blowjob and her second orgasm. Apparently, she'd remembered it and had decided to run it through the ol' Google. His sex club had come up immediately.
“I'd never been to a sex club,” she'd informed him. “And I was in town, so I thought … why not come say hi.” Then she'd scooped a cherry out of her drink with her incredibly dexterous tongue, and that's right about when his brain had started shutting down.
He hadn't intended on sleeping with her. Despite the “fuck me” vibes rolling off her, she still had her acid tongue firmly in place. As he gave her a tour of the club, she'd turned up her nose at the upstairs bar, criticized the décor in the private rooms downstairs, laughed at the size of the conference room, and made a face at his somewhat unkempt office.
In response, he'd told her he didn't really care what some slutty brat thought about his club or what he did for a living. She'd told him she didn't really care what some slutty club owner thought about her or her attitude. He'd told her he was seeing another woman, and she'd asked if he understood that literally seeing someone and dating them were two very different things.
“You sad, sad man.”
It had hit too close to home – he was sensitive about the whole Katya-Wulf subject. Even if this Halsey chick didn't know anything about it, it still pissed him off that she'd made fun of him about it.
He'd told her to leave, and she'd laughed that she was a paying customer and she would stay till she'd finished her drink. He'd warned her that he would make her leave. She'd dared him to try. He'd grabbed her arm and tried to propel her out of the room. A drink to the face and a couples shoves and swats with a handbag later, and he'd had her pressed against the door, his hand already up her very tight skirt.
He blew out a deep breath and finally let his arms drop to his sides. He could admit it, he was frustrated with the whole Katya thing, and having someone let him be a little mean, let him work out some of those frustrations … it was nice. Clearly, Miss Halsey had her own demons, and if she wanted to work on them by fucking Liam's brains out, he supposed he couldn't really fault her.
“You have to get out?” she chuckled, and he listened as she rolled onto her back, the sheets rustling as she pulled them up her body. “Do you punch in and out? Have a time card? I thought you owned this business, my bad.”
“I do,” he said. “But that doesn't mean I like spending all day and night here.”
“Hmmm, I don't know. Spending all of last night here wasn't so bad.”
Don't look. Do not look. You cannot keep doing this! You have someone else you care about, remember!? And you have to be at that someone's apartment tonight, you're celebrating her best friend's promotion. DO NOT LOOK.