Sleet Sugar (Sleet, #2)

by S.J. Tilly

What. Just. Happened. Is that how it normally feels to get eaten out? Because if it is, then I should’ve been doing that this past six years. And I need to find my old boyfriends so I can punch them in the dicks for never doing that to me. Seriously, Zach needs an award for those skills.

“Perfect, let’s go.” Then Dad looks past me, down the hallway. “Zachary - you free for lunch? Want to join Isabelle and myself?” Please say no. Please say no. Please say no. “I’d love to.” Forking hell.

“Jesus flipping Christ, what’s wrong with you!” I whisper-shout at Zach, as I frantically look for my dad.

“No shit?” My hand flies up to cover my mouth. I didn’t mean to say that. “Delicate flower she is not," Dad says dryly.

“Delicate isn’t fun anyways,” Zach says, looking at my dad. “Who has time for that?” “Ha! Spoken like a true Enforcer!” Dad replies. “Enforcer?” I look at Zach.

Me: I’m requesting an emergency meeting tonight. I need to get drunk. Meghan: Well smack my ass and call me Skippy. I’m down. Katelyn: Me too! Steph: FuckBalls, I can’t. Stupid work function tonight. I don’t need to learn how to fucking bond with my coworkers. I see these twatwaffles every day. Meghan: Boo! Coworkers suck! Katelyn: Meg, you don’t even have any coworkers. You run your own business. Meghan: Boo! Katelyn sucks!

“Well, shit. They look good on you.” Of course, that’s the moment Zach gets within hearing distance. “Izzy looks great in everything.” My cheeks instantly heat.

“Speaking of getting lucky… ” Zach pulls something out of his pocket. “I didn’t want you getting in trouble for snooping. So, I brought you your own goodie bag.” Zach hands me a small cloth bag, the top cinched shut with a string. Pulling it open, I find a Blow-Pop, a handful of little taffys, and a stick of pink rock candy.

“Yo! Get your sexy asses in here! We have a schedule to keep.” Emma shouts at us from the doorway.

His grip on me tightens before he pushes me ahead of him, bending to whisper in my ear. “She scares me.”

I nudge him in the side with my elbow. “Smart man.”

But I don’t. “Okay.” “Okay," he repeats. When I feel him kiss the top of my head, my heart nearly turns inside out.

Emma and I both stand there, watching him leave. Once Zach is back in his truck, Emma hums. “You’ve got it bad for that man.” I groan. “I know.” “And that man has it bad for you.” To that, I have no response.

“Remind me again why the fuck I’m here? And where in the hell we’re going?” Meghan asks from beside me in the backseat. I roll my eyes. “You’re here because you love me, and you want to support me. And you know damn well that I have no idea where we’re going. Ask Jackson.” Jackson turns up the music to drown out our voices, and I watch Katelyn’s shoulders shake on a laugh. “Don’t play all innocent!” Meghan shouts over the radio. “Kitten, you traitor, I know Jackson told you.” Katelyn puts her fingers in her ears, pointedly ignoring Meghan.

The alcohol has settled in my core. My turtledove is drunk, and she wants to cuddle with Zach.

I step forward until we’re nearly touching, and Izzy has to tilt her head back to look up into my eyes. “That little fucking man-boy is not putting his tiny hands on you. Ever. Again.”

Then Sugar giggles. Just a little at first, but it quickly turns into a full-fledged fit of laughter. I’m sure it’s at my expense, but it’s still the best sound in the world.

“What’s so funny?” I ask. “Little fucking man-boy with tiny hands.” She chuckles a few more times. “That’s playing pretty petty with your insults, don’t ya think?” “Hey, if the child-sized shoe fits.”

I swallow down my emotion and try to convey an amused expression. He wiggles his eyebrows and tilts his head towards his painting causing me to look again. And just like that my attempted amusement turns very real. The girl with her leg in the air. The guy right in front of her… “Oh for fuck’s sake.” I say out loud, before slapping a hand over my mouth. Zach grins. “Exactly.”

“Hey, Sugar. You bring me to the most interesting places...” his voice drags across my skin. “Funny you should say that, since I vividly remember not inviting you.” “And I’m doing my best to not take offense.” Zach grins before looking down at my chest. “Looks like you got a little paint on you.” I glance down. “Oh, that’s wine. The giant, uh, flower paintings, took me off guard.” “Hmm,” is all he says before he licks his finger and drags it across the top of my breast, removing the dried drip of wine.

Too stunned to speak, I watch as he brings his finger back to his mouth, placing it between his lips, to suck off the tiny smear. “Sweet Mary, Jesus, and Joseph.” French accent gone. We both look over to find Monsieur watching us, watching Zach, and fanning himself.

“You went younger last time. I see you’re trying your hand at older tonight. But you’re wrong to keep trying. You don’t need to keep searching for your perfect man.” There’s no hint of teasing in his voice or his eyes. I keep my tone just as serious. “I know.”

When I hear Meghan’s laugh, I step through the opening into the room. And freeze. The room is small. There are large colorful couches along each wall, under large paintings of naked women dancing, and a big square coffee table in the middle of the little room. It’s not the décor that takes me aback. It’s not the group of women that halts me. It’s the table full of dildos.

“Zach?” Izzy's voice breaks me out of the staring contest that I’m having with a hot pink penis that seems to be suction cupped to the table. “Uh, hi Sugar - ” I stumble through my greeting. That’s the best I got at the moment.

“I’m sure you have. But you’re mine now, and I’ll worry as much as I want to.” He kisses me on the nose before swatting my ass. “Now get inside.”

“Yeah, I know enough about them," he says. “Isabelle didn’t tell me anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I do my research. And all I can say is Fuck Them. We’re your family now. What happens

between you and Isabelle is between you and Isabelle. But you’ll always be a part of the Sleet family, son. Nothing will change that.”

I move to step back, but Isabelle grips the front of my shirt, halting me. “Stop talking," is all she says before she’s pulling me down and crashing her lips against mine.

I pull back. “Isabelle?” “I swear to god, if you call me Isabelle one more fucking time…” She pulls me back down.