Strung Out (Needles and Pins #1) Read Online Free Page A

hoarse from the crack she’d smoked earlier and surely from all the screaming she’d done.
    He shuddered in revulsion. Some men he knew were flattered, but he labeled the screamers ‘attention whores.’
    Swiveling around, he glared at the long tan limbs and mass of platinum hair against the cappuccino color of the sheets. “What’re you still doing here?”
    His question had the desired effect. He turned from the insulted fury in her eyes and the perfect D’s that remained stationary on her naked torso despite the angry way her chest heaved as she rose to her elbows.
    He felt bad for two seconds—that was better than dealing with her after daylight.
    The afternoon and evening was coming back to him. He wouldn’t be finding his clothing among hers. His things were still strewn around the pool. The only reason she’d had to be undressed is she’d bailed from pool long enough to run up the road for more party favors.
    Discovering a pair of board shorts in the closet, he stepped into them and looked hopefully for a shirt. When he didn’t find one, he padded barefoot down the tiles of the hallway as the doorbell rang a fourth time. This time, the woman on his doorstep followed with a knock on the door.
Persistent little bitch
.
    This scenario might have been common a few years ago―several women or a whole crowd of acquaintances arriving at all hours and partying all night. But gradually his late nights had dwindled to partying alone or with a hookup or two or few. The dope went farther that way. Less drain on his bank account—and less people to throw out of his house when he’d had enough.
    The mystery woman was bedraggled but beautiful. His defenses shot up. He wanted to be irritated. After all, a late night booty call who was only vaguely familiar had shown up, with no text first.
    Then again, she might be just what the doctor ordered tonight.
    Despite him pissing her off, Trish, or Tanya, or whatever the gal’s name in the bedroom was, would surely be up for staying now that a little extra fun had arrived. And if she didn’t, her loss.
    “Hey, you!” He shooed his dog aside and pulled the door open wide. “Step inside mi casa!”
    Ignoring his easygoing flirty manner, the young woman brushed around him with a rude scoff. It was then he noticed the suitcase. It clinked on the tile as she rolled it along, and then she released the handle, allowing it to rest upright.
    Suitcase?
Never had a woman arrived with luggage. In fact, if they had, he would have ejected them from the premises immediately. Afterward, he would have made sure women from then on knew it was a hard and fast rule: no bags larger than a purse allowed.
    “So?” Folding her arms across her chest, she seemed to wait.
    He was distracted for a moment by the way her stretchy vee-necked tee hugged her tits. They weren’t huge like the ones he’d had at his sexual disposal a few hours ago. But they definitely moved when she moved—unlike those of Tinni/Tabbi.
    As if summoned by his brief thought of her twins, Tabbi/Tania entered stage left. She carried her heels in one hand, purse in the other, and she’d done nothing while dressing to smooth out her wild, face-fucked hairdo.
    Her entry set off Rascal. A series of fresh barks echoed the entryway until Gage signaled to the dog who promptly dropped to his haunches. The animal hated a few people on sight—Tania/Tracy being one—and always made his aversion known.
    From behind the veil of her long lashes, the mysterious newcomer seemed to size up the other disheveled woman. And then she laughed. A sarcastic, sexy tinkle that sent a stab of remorse through his heart for some reason.
    “Never mind.” She tugged at her long, auburn ponytail. “I understand. It’s exactly what I thought.” Her arms fell to her sides, and she shifted her weight from one skinny, jean-clad leg to the other as she swung her eyes his way.
    Obviously, she was wanting—
expecting
—more from him than his almost naked