Might as Well

Savannah

“Pay up and stop whining.”

I tap my hand on Daxon so he can put the poker chips in my hand and stop huffing about losing yet again.

We are on game five and he has been the worst about admitting defeat.

Darrion is giving him a run for his money but damn—I thought Dane was the baby.

Darrion works around me, pulling out the chess board and setting it up for him to try and beat me at a “game of intellectual beings and not one of luck.”

~Cry baby bitches, I swear.~

The male ego in the Henley clan is as fragile as an orchid.

Not one of these boys has any big dick energy and I’m counting my Angel.

He may be a sweetheart right now, but I know how pissed he can get about being called ~little D~.

Or last time we had a poker night.

“Let’s see you best me in this, Savannah.”

I just tsk my tongue and nod along, with Damon caressing my back in long strokes of his gentle touch.

We will see, since I won a championship for the chess team when I was in the eighth grade in the speed round.

“When will you boys learn I’m the best?”

I shake my head at their refusal and clear my chips away to give Damon.

I’ll give Daxxy back his money eventually.

Giving Darrion my full attention, I become aware of Grave staring from the bar like I’m the most interesting thing in the world.

I’ve felt eyes on me the whole time but I guess he just came out of hiding.

For most of the games he has been at the back booth with Lucien and Lawrence.

“Would you like to play too?” I ask him, not like chess is a three person game but he could come over instead of staring like a weirdo.

I harbor no ill feelings.

If he talks shit about my mom or dad again then I bust his stitches wide open.

But, until then, I will clean the slate.

Darrion makes his first move as Grave takes a seat at my side.

Damon whispering in my ear how I have an hour left before Darrion will check my knee and see if I can put weight on it.

I give a soft but meaningful, “Thank God.”

Damon has been cradling me like I’m a broken egg and I do not want to pee in front of him again.

Never ever again.

Daxon stomps around like a baby looking for a different game to try out and best me at even though he won’t.

He tells one of the hang-around guys to go buy every game on the shelf.

Daxon tells him he doesn’t care what it is.

I can’t believe these boys.

Dane hasn’t come out of his room yet and it’s way late in the afternoon.

I don’t remember seeing a fridge in there, maybe he left before us and hasn’t come back yet. I don’t know.

I fire back a quick move that makes Darrion stare at the board like I just managed to let the Kraken out.

“Savannah, is it?” Grave sparks conversation, probably in hopes to distract me and let Darrion win.

~Not in this lifetime, buddy.~

“Yes sir, it is.” I make my next move and take his knight with a cheeky grin.

“And, your mom…she never talked to you about the club?”

A flick of my eyes to the busted up man is the only time I leave the game in front of me.

“Uh, no. She didn’t.”

Damon slips under my shirt to rub my back.

It doesn’t even hurt, but who am I to complain? I don’t mind getting a rub down from an Angel.

Not at all.

“Where did they end up?”

Grave goes on with the questioning.

I make a move right after Darrion, who cusses when I take his bishop and snicker at how red he is getting.

“You mean what town? Grand Oaks. Born and raised. Well for the most part. You knew them both?”

Darrion takes his time and starts analyzing the active pieces on the board. He doesn’t stand a shot in hell but he is far too stubborn to just accept I am the best.

I can respect his perseverance and commitment.

An older man walks through the doors of the bar in a pair of oil-stained overalls. His fat dirty fingers snap, and a whistle is what makes Damon groan.

“I’ll be right back, Shortcake.”

A kiss to the top of my head and a look to Daxon is what he leaves me with before following the man out.

“Don’t worry, Van, he’s going across the street to the garage. I got your back.”

Daxon trying to take the same spot Damon did even with his hand slipping under my tank top to rub my back.

“Ducky, get the fuck off me. I’m still not over the first trial.”

I swat his hand and checkmate Darrion in one fell swoop.

“No! No you didn’t,” Darrion says in disbelief.

“Yes. Yes I did,” I tease back.

Darrion flips the board and walks off.

“You’re not over the first trial? You ripped my nipples off! My nuts still haven’t gone back to normal. I cry a little bit every time I cum now. The girls are thinking I’m getting emotional but it just hurts still.”

I laugh and shake my head.

“If I would have thought about it, I would have known it was fake.”

Going straight to the bar, he pulls a bottle from the top shelf and four glasses before coming back and breaking the seal.

“How? Why?” Daxon asks.

“I should have known when I saw the extra-large condoms. Dead giveaway it was fake.”

Darrion takes a large swing before he resets the board and pours all of us a drink.

“Hey dickhead, getting me drunk isn’t going to help you win. I’ll just do a victory lap with old English instead of American.”

Darrion scoffs.

“And what the hell does that have to do with it? I got a twelve-inch cock, darling. I need extra large,” Daxon lies.

“Bull-fucking-shit, Daxon! You do NOT have a twelve-inch cock. No way.”

***

After four and a half bottles of whiskey bourbon and nine games of chess, three games of poker, and two crazy eight matches, we find ourselves playing an angry game of go fish that has Daxon cursing his existence and Darrion not making any words—only sounds that resembled a T. rex at this point—and Grave asking me more questions about my mom and dad.

“Dost thou have any twos?”

Darrion screeches before slinging his card across the table.

“I will pull my dick out on this goddamn table, Savannah. Hey! You there with the shirt, get me a tape measure. I got something to prove.” Daxon has not let up on him having a twelve-inch dick.

“You don’t look like Ellis or Jeremiah.”

Grave swirls his amber-colored liquor as I toss mine back and look at Darrion’s ready face.

“Naigh, I don’t. ’Tis be of sea eyes and honeysuckle hair. I be of caramel hair and hazel eyes. Dost thou hast any kings?”

The man Daxon barked at runs off into the next room to find a tape measure.

Darrion shakes his head to keep his eyes open and pops his lips when he reads his cards. Cursing out a threat he couldn’t go through with even if he wasn’t drunk as a skunk, he gives me the card.

“’Tis be a false prophet. If ye male hood hang at das length ya would be shaking hands dick first. ’Tis be me Christmas card. Me britches be only leg holes so I could show off the golden dick. Like that of Goldmember from Austin Powers.”

Daxon chugs the remaining finger of whiskey in his tumbler with a nod.

“And no one in the family has that, do they?”

Grave takes the bottle away and my cup that I was draining the very last drop out of alongside the lying Henley.

“Nigh. I be the one and the only. Dost thou hast any fives?”

Grave rolls his lips in and shakes his head, now giving Darrion a look to show it’s his turn.

“Where be the one of Sunshine and of Moonpie?”

Holy shit, I haven’t seen them in forever.

“At their mom’s,” Grave replies.

“But I miss them.” My bottom lip pokes out in a pout that makes Grave facepalm.

“Hey, where be my Angel. I miss him too. ANGELLLLL!” I call through the bar.

This guy comes back with a tape measure as another sets up Candyland and helps Darrion stay in his seat.

Boy is about to fall out.

“Let’s see it. The Prince Daxon does not have a twelve-inch cock, I know it.”

I brush my hair with my fingers and let the couple of strands that break free fall to the ground.

Grave gets up, taking the cups and picking up the cards Darrion has knocked off.

I won again.

Daxon stands, unbuckling his pants in his sway of drunkenness.

I take the tape measure from the table and click the button for it to stay at the twelve-inch mark and wait for him to release the beast.

Dropping his jeans to his ankles and going full ass-out in the middle of the bar, the front door swings open with a greasy, stained-up dark Angel.

“What the fuck is going on?” he stalls my movements from scooting down the line of chairs and taking the measuring.

“Van doesn’t believe I got a twelve-inch dick. I’ll show her! Ha! Feast your eyes!”

Daxon swings his dick in a helicopter motion.

“Hold still!” I laugh and throw my poker chips at the Chippendales-like performance Daxon has started up.

“Put your goddamn dick up and stay the fuck away from my girl!”

Damon rams Daxon, shoving him back with a shot to the mouth from his heavily laced fist and making him fall out.

“Damon!” I gawk.

He says nothing to me.

His pale face red and steam shooting out of his ears, he scoops me up aggressively and practically runs me out of the bar and back down into his room.

Kicking his door shut, he puts me on the bed, but I could tell he wanted to drop me.

“What the fuck was that, Savannah? I leave you alone for an hour and come back to you eye-level with my brother’s dick?”

“’Tis be not a way the elder Henley has a twelve-inch cock!”

Damon’s brows scrunch together.

“Are you drunk?” The question seems to only make him angrier.

“Nigh, I tis not be, my Angel.”

Damon cusses. A strong list of profanities I’m actually impressed with.

“Goddamn it, Savannah, you are fucking wasted.”

I shake my head ~no~ but lose my balance and fall flat on my back with the room spinning in a circle.

“I called for you, to the heavens. I received but no answer, my Angel.”

I close my eyes to stop the spinning.

“I was working outside, baby. You shouldn’t have been drinking.”

“But I missed youuuuuuu.”

Real-life tears leak out the corners of my eyes and my chest heaves.

“Baby, don’t cry. I’m here. I was only outside for an hour.” His tone lightens up as he crawls into bed with me.

“I said ANGELLLLL and you weren’t there.”

I don’t know what’s happening, but I really cry and cling to him like he just got back from war.

“Shush, Van baby. I’m here.”

He does the scalp thing and holds me tight.

I breathe in his scent and my tears start to slow before fading away.

“I don’t want you around anyone else’s dick. For no reason, Savannah. You hear me?”

He says it calmly. Nudging my face with his as he plants a storm of kisses over my teary eyes.

I nod like a guilty child.

“There’s just no way Daxon has a twelve-inch dick, Angel. None.”

Damon sighs and agrees with me, holding me in his arms and letting me hold him back.

“I missed you too, baby.” He kisses me again, this time on my lips as he works his way into more and licks the inside of my mouth.

“I upset my prince,” I pout, sticking my bottom lip out and looking at his dark desolate eyes.

“You did,” he adds.

“My Angel ’tis be stressed and upset with me, isn’t he?”

My voice is lighter than it naturally is.

“What am I going to do with you?”

His lips flinch into a smile.

“Use me.”

Damon’s eyes, I don’t know how, but his eyes grow even darker and the rumble in his chest as he presses our bodies closer.

“Use me, Angel. Take me however you please. Use me and be on your way.”

I throw a hand over my eyes and turn my head to show him my neck.

“Use me however you please. But please”—I look back at him, faking a scared tremble with my hand raised to his cheek—“do be gentle at first. I be an honorable maiden.”

Damon shoots his head back with a laugh that booms from his chest in hearty laughter.

“Well, I will need to take care of that right away then.”

He climbs on top of me, hovering right above the pulse on my neck.

“I want to hear you say it, Savannah,” he growls.

This predatory demand makes me gasp.

“Tell me you are mine.”

His perfect white teeth graze my skin.

“I’m yours, Damon.”

My back lifts to feel him closer to me.

“My body is yours. Do with it as you please, Prince Damon.”

I spread my good leg and let him steer closer to my core.

A throbbing siren flashes from my swelling clit, the bulging cock trapped under my Angel’s pants strokes my slit through my dampening panties.

Damon nips at my pulse, scraping his teeth up the dip in my neck and over the curve of my jawline.

“My pussy is yours, my Angel prince,” I purr.

“That’s right, baby.”