Bar Down (Grand Marquee Manticores #2)

Chapter 9

NINE

Seven Months Ago

Ash

“Wait .”

I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, running after Eli like this. Has my last brain cell completely abandoned me? I didn’t even have that much to drink tonight.

“Mind if I get a ride with you?” I hear myself ask in a daze.

“Hey kid, this ain’t a taxi. Beat it,” the ride-share driver yells at me, but I don’t budge. My eyes stay fixed on Eli and his frozen state, like he can’t believe I chased after him either. But how could I not? Especially after seeing that wounded look on his face when he saw Max kissing me.

Fucking Max. Why did I let him get so handsy with me?

I don’t know what this hot-and-cold back and forth with Eli is doing to me, but I need some kind of explanation.

Or closure.

Or something .

He can’t just keep rejecting me, reaching out, only to ignore me later and then get mad when someone else is making a move.

“It’s fine, we’re going to the same place,” Eli says to the driver, eyes still glued to mine. I hop in the backseat, only now realizing how freaking tiny this car is. Both of us are big and take up the majority of the backseat, and when I spread my legs to get more comfortable, my knee bumps into Eli’s.

I pull it back like I’ve been burned, knowing he doesn’t care for physical touch, especially not in public. His body goes still and my knee starts bouncing. After about a minute of awkward silence, I feel Eli’s hand stilling my knee. His touch is soft and warm, and fuck , I want nothing more than for him to grip harder, and higher. But he doesn’t.

I fully expect him to yank his hand away as soon as he stops my bouncing leg, but his hand lingers. His long, gentle fingers run circles over my bare knee and I want to melt right here in the backseat of the world’s tiniest car. My eyelids flutter and I turn my head to face him.

Eli is already looking at me, so much hurt and longing showing in his pale blue gaze. His fingers stop circling on top of my knee, and he just lets his hand rest there, with a light grip. Not breaking eye contact, I move my own hand to slowly cover his. His gaze drops down to our hands and moves back to my face, and more specifically, my lips. My tongue peeks out to lick them and I see him track the movement.

He still wants me.

Eli

Ash keeps his hand on top of mine the whole ride back to the hotel. I can’t stop stealing glances at him. I don’t know if I want to stop. Seeing Max all over him made me so irrationally angry.

I didn’t think I was the type to get jealous, but just thinking about the way Max’s hands were roaming all over Ash’s body is making me grind my teeth. That should have been me.

I still don’t know what exactly it is that we’re doing, and I’m in no way ready for a relationship. But maybe we need to get this out of our systems. Maybe all this tension can just go away and we can go back to how things were.

The car drops us off and our hands no longer hold as we walk inside the hotel. We’re both quiet on the elevator ride up. Quiet is not usually Ash’s strong suit, but I don’t say anything for fear of ruining this. Whatever this is.

As soon as we get to our door, my mind is made up.

One night.

This needs to happen. We need to get this out of our systems so we can move on.

I unlock the door and gesture for Ash to walk in first, which he does. As soon as I get inside as well, I kick the door shut, reach for the collar of his polo with both hands and push him up against the wall.

For a second we’re both stunned, just looking at one another, but then our bodies move of their own accord—heads tilting, lips parting.

As soon as his lips are on mine, I let my desire take over. He tastes like the fruity cocktail he was drinking at the club and I chase that, touching my tongue to his seam, begging to be let in, and it feels all consuming. I’m starving and the only thing I want is him .

Ash’s hands grip the back of my shirt so hard I think he might rip it off me, but as soon as my hand grabs a fistful of his hair and I tug, his grip loosens. He gasps and that’s all I need to deepen the kiss, angling him right where I want him.

And fuck, do I want him .

I’m hard already and I let him know it as I bring our hips flush together and I grind once, twice. I do it again until we reluctantly break for air, panting hard. Ash’s dark blue eyes are blown wide with desire and his lips—they’re pink and swollen. Fuckable.

“Is this really happening?” Ash asks, one hand moving to my chest and trailing down, down, down. It lingers at the waistband of my pants and he looks up through his lashes for permission.

My cock twitches at the touch and it takes everything in my power to remain in control. I swallow hard and say, “Just once. I need to know what you taste like.”

“We’ve kissed before,” he says with a small smirk on his face.

I grin back at him, pulling him into me. As I leave a trail of kisses from his lips to his jaw to his ear, I hear myself say, “That’s not the kind of taste I’m talking about, rakas .”

Ash sways on the spot and I can see a glimpse of his eyes rolling back in pleasure. I bite down on his earlobe, getting an immediate reaction from him. But right as he’s about to shove his hand down my pants, I step back and muster all the confidence I can to say, “Take off your clothes.”

Ash

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Eli use such a commanding voice before, but it’s hot as fuck. I swallow and very enthusiastically pull off my blue polo shirt, my hands moving so fast I almost get tangled up in it. It ends up somewhere on the floor. My hand hovers over the zipper of my shorts when Eli suddenly grabs it.

“Slower.” His raspy voice does things to me and I can’t help but oblige. He lets go of my wrist and I can tell by the tightness of his muscles and the way he clenches his fists that he’s fighting hard to stay in control. Good.

I reach down to take my shoes off instead of my pants. I perch on the edge of the bed and slide off my boat shoes and no-show socks, my gaze staying fixed on Eli the whole time. Then I sit up straight and do a slow shimmy dance. If he wants a show, he’ll get a fucking show.

I try to keep my smirk off of my face so he doesn’t think I’m laughing at this interaction. It’s fucking hot, and I need him to keep going. He’s right, this needs to happen between us, even if it’s just once. I reach down and palm myself through the pants, knowing I’m already fully hard.

With painful slowness, I pull the zipper down and lean back on the bed, lifting my hips just enough so my pants and underwear can come off. Once they drop to my ankles, I kick them off, getting fully situated on the bed as I lean back on my elbows.

As if he’s in a trance, Eli takes a few steps toward me, eyes not once leaving my body. He categorizes every muscle, every scar, every tattoo. He’s seen most of me—in locker rooms and joint hotels, and in my apartment—but he’s never seen me like this. Thoroughly and completely naked for him. My cock twitches just from his proximity.

“Is that one new?” he asks, voice deep and dripping with desire. I look down at where he’s pointing—the honeysuckle tattoo that’s inked right above my heart. I falter for a second, thinking about why I got this tattoo in the first place. Like all my other tattoos, this one has a special meaning.

“Yeah,” I rasp out and keep my gaze averted. Please don’t ask. Please.

I feel the mattress dip on my left side and lift my head to see Eli hovering above. I feel his knee sliding between my legs and pushing against my thigh. One of his hands rests on the bed above my shoulder, his other reaching up and leaving feather light touches over my tattoo.

“Beautiful,” he says, laying his palm down flat over my heart. The traitorous bitch is beating a mile a minute and totally giving away how nervous I am. Eli’s lips hover over mine and my breath catches, because holy shit, is this really happening? I’ve been imagining this moment for so long.

This time, when he kisses me, Eli doesn’t hold back.

Eli

Ash is intoxicating. I might be addicted to kissing him because I can’t seem to stop. I press my full weight into him, pinning him to the mattress under me and take my time exploring his mouth and gliding my hands all over his body. He’s perfectly sculpted, all smooth skin and hard muscles—muscles that clench when I run my hand over them.

“Are you going to take off your clothes?” he asks with a heavy sigh. My mouth moves down his neck, nipping and licking at his collarbones. Ash’s breath stutters and I feel his hips pushing up, searching for friction.

“Not yet,” I say, giving him an intense look before moving my mouth lower, kissing his tattoos. His body is a piece of art, and every single tattoo is a part of him. A part of his story.

I start with his newest one, right above his heart. I’m curious to know what it represents and why he got it, but I don’t want to push right now. He seems nervous about telling me about it, so I decide to ask him later. After.

I kiss the tree that is tattooed under his ribs on the left side. The one he got in September during training camp, because it meant he could keep himself grounded. The tree is blooming on top, but underneath, its mirror image is distorted and looks a lot more like roots. I’ve always loved tattoos and learning about their meanings, but I don’t have one myself.

There is a flock of birds taking flight on the right side of his torso, starting near his pelvis and going up, up, all the way to his shoulder blade. I remember when I first saw it, two years ago, when we all went out swimming. When I asked him about it, he said he got it when he was sixteen to piss off his dad and that it represented his desire to be free and happy. I’ve been slowly categorizing little bits and pieces of Ash, taking them with me everywhere I go.

His left thigh tattoo is of a beautiful butterfly, with its wings spread. This one means transformation and personal growth, something I know he struggles with sometimes. I kiss every inch of every tattoo, moving to his right arm, where he has a vine creeping up his forearm, this one also signifying growth.

By the time I’m done putting my mouth all over him, Ash is panting and writhing underneath me. When I touch him where he most needs me, he’s impossibly hard and slick with precum. He lets out the most beautiful moan as I twist and stroke him. His head is thrown back in pleasure and I think I might have made a huge mistake. Because how am I supposed to walk away after tonight?

Swallowing the tight knot in my throat, I move lower until I can put my mouth on him. I lick him once, twice, before taking him in my mouth and as soon as I do, Ash’s hands fly to my hair, fingers threading through it roughly.

“Fuck, that feels too good,” he says, trying to make me slow down. But I’m done taking this slow. I need him like I’ve never needed anyone else before. This isn’t just some hookup. I knew it was going to be like this from the first moment he suggested it.

It feels like coming home after a long day of work.

It feels like rain after a summer drought.

It feels like falling, and Ash and I— we’re inevitable .

I pull back for a second, taking his hands out of my hair and pinning them underneath his body, before saying, “Keep them there.” Ash blinks at me through heavy lids but nods along, opening his mouth to say something. Whatever it is, it dies on his lips the moment I take him back in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his head before taking him as deep as I can.

“Fuck, fuck. ” Ash’s movements stutter and he tentatively thrusts once, twice. I swallow around him, digging my fingers into his hips. It only takes a few more thrusts and me reaching down to cup his balls for Ash to let go. I swallow it all down, licking him clean before letting go with an audible pop. When I look up, his chest is heaving, his eyes are screwed shut and his hands are out from under his body, fisting the sheets.

I grin at how out of sorts he looks and make my way back up his body. His eyes fly open and he grins back, all but tackling me sideways. He kisses me hard, his hand fisting my shirt, undoing my buttons.

“My turn,” he says, nipping at my jaw and moving down, trailing kisses on my chest. His movements are rushed as he pulls me up to take my shirt off, then immediately pushes me back down and palms me through my shorts. I groan and drop my head back, letting him take over and do with me as he pleases.

“No, I think you mean it’s my turn,” I say, closing my eyes in contentment. My fingers twitch when he pulls down my layers and I expect him to go for it, but nothing happens for a long moment. I lift my head to look down at him and he’s just frozen. Staring.

“What?” I ask, concerned.

“Why the fuck are you so big?” Ash blurts out. I choke on a laugh and he looks at me wearily, some amusement in his blue eyes. “Seriously, that’s not gonna fit anywhere. ”

“You’re such an idiot,” I chide and he smirks. I take it a step further and say, “You can take it, rakas. ”

“Death by giant cock. Make sure you put that on my headstone after this.” I don’t have time to laugh or call him an idiot again because the next second his lips are on me, one of his hands covering the rest, moving up and down in time with his mouth.

“ Perkele! ”

“Talk Finnish to me, baby,” Ash says, licking up my shaft and biting the inside of my thigh.

“Fuck, no more talking,” I say, and guide my cock back in his mouth before taking a firm grip of his head and showing him exactly how I like it. It doesn’t take long before my body starts shuddering in pleasure. Ash’s mouth pulls away and he replaces it with his hand, twisting with just the right amount of pressure as he climbs back up my body. I come all over my stomach and his hand as he kisses me fervently and bites my lower lip.

I grip the back of his head with one hand and squeeze his ass with the other as we lay there, our kisses soon turning languid and soft.

Fuck .

I wanted this so much. I thought that getting it out of our systems would help, that it would be like scratching an itch, there and gone. But this was so much more. How are we supposed to go back to being just friends after this?