Julian: A Dark Angel Series Companion Novella (Dark Angel #3) by Kat T. Masen

desperate pleas begging me to enter her.
    But I don’t.
    Instead I tell her to lie the fuck down, because this time, it’s her turn to be the prey.             
                 
     
                 
     
     
     

Chapter 8
    “I have two words for you. Beach. Party,” Eric announces.
    Here we go.
    It was way too early for this shit. I had a sex hangover, the best kind that left you fucking sore in parts you never knew existed. Perhaps I was missing the whole point of being single. Who needed relationships when I could have two girls suck my dick at one time?
    Two girls that eat each other out like it was a marathon.
    Two girls that had no objections to me fucking them in their pussys and their asses.
    One girl that had no issue with me fucking her tits till I came all over her face, only to watch Tori clean it all up.
    That was un-fucking believable .
    “Ahem. I feel like I am the giant gay in the room being ignored,” Eric pouts.
    Tristan scratches his head. “Eric, I think you mean elephant.”
    “Are you calling me fat?!”
    A yawn escapes my mouth. “Can both of you just shut up, please, for just a second? Actually, make it an hour.”
    So, this is the thing, the PlayStation isn’t that bad. In fact, it was a welcome distraction.
    I had been on a high, a clean high, since last night. I blew my load…twice, the much needed relief I was after. On top of that, I was making positive progress on my manuscript. Tristan even commented that I was in better spirits, and after a few beers, it led to him showing me how to play this game. Sure, I sucked. Tristan said we made a great team, and so five hours later we were deep in the middle of a mission when Eric came over.
    Concentrating on the screen, Tristan yells at me to watch out on my left. My palms are sweating, my ammunition low, until the screen goes black. Huh?
    My head spins quickly to look at Eric. “Eric! It took us hours to unlock that path!”
    Eric’s face falls. “Look at yourself, Batman. You should be outside with the rest of the world parading what you got, not holed up in here playing games. Think about the amount of women lying in their lonely beds right now wishing a hot man like yourself would save them from their rabbit and personal hell.”
    “Hey! What about me?” Tristan sulks.
    “I’ve still got beef with you after you dodged our last gym session and I walked past you at the Dairy Queen stuffing your face.”
    “Yeah, well, I was hungry.”
    “A minute on the lips, forever on the hips. Anyway, get your asses changed. There is a happening beach party in Malibu tonight, and I for one need some wiggity wang.”
    This is a battle not worth fighting, so I stand up and head to my room as Tristan pulls me aside. “What the hell is wiggity wang?”
    I shrug. “I don’t know. Eric has his own language.”
    Eric shouts out, “It’s called wanguage, get it?”
    …
    The drive up to Malibu could possibly have been the longest drive that ever existed, only because Eric and Tristan kept arguing over the song choice.
    “What do you mean you don’t listen to One Direction?” Eric asks in horror.
    “Eric, as if I would listen to boy bands. I’m more of a Metallica, Guns N’ Roses kind of guy.”
    “ Who the hell is a Metallica?”
    “Did you just ask me who Metallica was?” Tristan raises his voice in shock.
    I grip the steering wheel in frustration. “Oh my god, both your tastes in music are piss poor. Well maybe not you, Tristan, so let me rephrase that. Eric, your taste in music is piss poor. I will not play that in my car and…”
    I place my hand in the air as I anticipate his rebuttal. “I do not want statistics on how many records they have sold, who is still in the closet or who you would take to bed. Now, I’ll put on Maroon 5 and let’s all not talk to each other for the rest of the drive, okay?”
    Like a brooding teenage boy, he mumbled to himself before pulling out his cell and placing his