Sucker Punch by Sucker Punch Authors

Author:Sucker Punch Authors
Language: eng
Format: epub

The bar is loud, too loud. I can barely hear my friend Piper over the grating music being played by whatever local band is trying for fame as I take another swig of my lukewarm beer. The only reason we come to this dive bar is the dollar drinks and the absolute leniency with IDs. More like a total blind eye. They let all the hot girls in from Madison. It makes sense—nobody wants to fuck a run-down townie girl, and what’s a bar without hot chicks.

“So what? She told you she’s getting married. How bad can it be? She looked really happy this afternoon during graduation. You’re being a brat.”

“No, I’m not. You don’t get it. Today is a prime example of how the rest of my life will play out. I graduated—today was my day. And she brought her future husband—to announce their wedding to me. Everything became all about that.” Maybe I do sound like a brat.

Piper turns toward the bar, putting her elbows on the top as she leans back, contemplating what I’ve said. When she doesn’t agree with me fast enough, I add, “She always keeps this fantasy in her head about having the perfect family. Peter could be a monster.”

Her head swings to me as she rolls her eyes, gulping down the rest of her Corona and setting it down behind her. I raise my hand to order another, but I’m jarred when she smacks my arms, causing me to scowl, before jutting her chin toward the door.

“Holy fuck me please.”

“God, you’re such a slut.” I laugh, looking over my shoulder.

Holy fuck is right.

“You said there’s no such thing as a slut,” she challenges, eyes fixed in the same direction mine are.

I shush her as I swivel to stare at my goal. I may be young, but my age isn’t an indication of my sexual maturity. Crazy shit happens at an all-girls school—inside and outside the walls. And older guys are my thing. I love being handled. Daddy issues, I guess.

Ducking his head to walk inside, he removes his navy peacoat and folds it over his arm. Fuck he’s tall. Jesus, his black Henley clings to him the way I wish my body could. The guy’s built like one of those Instagram male models that Piper and I stalk. The kind with veins that lead down to heaven and with arms that could hold you up for hours while he fucks you senseless.

But it’s the look in his eyes that holds my interest. It’s predatory. He looks like the kind of guy that would fuck you, then flip you over and start again.

Mr. Perfect runs his hand through his chocolate-brown, effortlessly sexy bed head and licks his perfect lips before his blue eyes search the room. They pause on Piper and me for a millisecond before he disregards us and looks around more. Asshole.

“Dibs,” Piper whispers while digging inside her bag for her favorite gloss.

“Fuck off. You can’t call dibs. We aren’t children.”

But also, I want to rectify that brush-off.

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