I shoved my hands back into my pockets to keep from reaching for Hailey. As I was about to say goodbye, the slight tilt of her head and the subtly raised brows made me realize I couldn’t just walk out of the room.
With slow, deliberate movements, I slipped a hand under her chin, tilted her head up, and leaned down so our lips could meet.
I had no idea where this sudden confidence came from, but when it came to physical contact with Hailey, something in my brain short-circuited and my instincts took over. I was no longer an awkward, fumbling idiot but someone who knew what he wanted and went for it.
Her tongue tangled with mine in a power struggle. My free hand moved of its own accord and splayed across her hip, gently squeezing the supple flesh. When she briefly sucked on my tongue, my knees nearly buckled, making my cock throb in sync with my racing pulse.
My balls pulled up for a second, like they had back at thecar, and pre-cum dripped down my shaft. Jesus Christ, this girl would be the death of me. When she bit my lower lip, I had to stifle a growl, then she pulled away from me.
I cleared my throat, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Ella had a shit-eating grin on her face, and put some distance between us.
“Well, I guess I’ll be off, then,” I said, walking backward before tripping over my own feet like an idiot, my cheeks burning red with embarrassment. “Ella, nice to meet you. Hailey, have fun, I’ll see you soon.” I saluted, and in the next moment wanted to punch myself for acting so awkward. The girls laughed a little and waved as I disappeared into the hallway.
As I walked to the truck, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick message to the group chat.
Me: Stop fucking harassing Hunter.
Asher Harris: Oh my God, he’s alive *celebrating emoji*
Ty McAllister: You want to fill us in so we don’t have to ask him again?
Knox Bradshaw: Dude, I told you, I literally saw them.
Me: Can everybody just shut the fuck up?
Jax Henderson: Oh, touchy *winking sticking out tongue emoji*
Elijah Steed: Bro, just tell us if Bradshaw is full of shit
I let out a groan. Why were they all so damn nosy?
Me: No
Asher Harris: No, as in, he’s telling the truth?
Jax Henderson: Yeah Michaels, please be very specific
Me: Fucking hell. Bradshaw ain’t talking shit. I have a girlfriend.
Done with this conversation, I shoved my phone back in my pocket and climbed into my truck. I usually avoided the weight room at this time of night, it was too busy, but I desperately needed an outlet for my sexual frustration and the frustration my team had caused with their bullshit.
Fortunately, none of the gossipy refrigerator-sizedblabbermouths were in the weight room at that time, and I made it through my session undisturbed.
Once I was home, standing under the warm spray of the shower, I fisted my dick, which had been at half-mast ever since I left Hailey’s dorm, and jerked off to the memory of her lips and tongue.
God, the little sounds she had made. I pressed my forehead against the cold tiles, and it only took a few strokes before I felt the telltale twinge in my lower back and my balls tighten as my cum spurted against the shower wall in powerful jets.
Not that it did much good. By the time I was in bed, I was half hardagain. My thoughts were consumed by her, even more than before. She’d probably run screaming the other way if she knew about all the things I was doing to her in my head.Or maybe not?
What the hell did I know, given everything that’d happened over the last twelve hours? I thought I’d never touch her again after what happened last year, maybe never evenseeher again, yet here she was, offering herself to me on a fucking silver platter. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe I could convince her, trick her, into letting me keep her. Maybe, if I played my cards just right, I could turn this fake arrangement into somethingreal.
The next morning, after fucking my fist twice more — my dick just wouldn’t go down — I ran into Hunter again in the kitchen while searching for food. We shared this more than spacious house, thanks to my parents, who loved Hunter like the brother I never had. As I tried to put off the inevitable conversation by sticking my head in the fridge, I felt his heavy gaze on me.
“What?”I finally asked, still not meeting his eyes as I placeda carton of eggs on the counter.
He said nothing as I made an omelet. Hunter loathed talking, and he knew me well enough to know that I wouldn’t last long in this situation.
Apparently, I was predictable. After I’d maneuvered my eggs onto a plate, I finally peered in his direction. He stood at the kitchen island, arms crossed, simply watching me.
