30. The Overthinker
CHAPTER THIRTY
THE OVERTHINKER
Malakai
I get to my office thirty minutes before the meeting is supposed to start, and despite planning on using that thirty minutes for prepping my argument, there’s a heavy knock on the door.
“Come in,” I say, taking a seat behind my desk.
Julian’s face comes into view as he slowly pushes the door open, closing it quietly behind him. “I’m here to see the headmaster?” he asks, his eyes sparking with mischief.
And damn it to hell, because I can’t help but laugh, even as my gut twists.
“What do you want, Julian?” I ask. My tone is teasing, but there’s a slight bite to it.
I’m not in the mood for his games today, especially since I can’t help but feel like a brooding asshole right now.
He locks the door and steps inside my office fully, hands in his pockets as his eyes roam the room. His eyes linger on the rosary sitting on a shelf, and I stiffen as he reaches out, brushing a finger against the beads.
“Please tell me you have plans to use those rosary nipple clamps with Sophie again,” he says, his voice light. Casual. Wiggling his eyebrows at me, I almost want to laugh at how ridiculous he can be.
But I don’t. Instead, I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “Only if you’re nice.”
That earns me a grin, sharp and wolfish. I feel that tug of something all the way down to my cock. Crossing the room, he comes to stand in front of my desk, placing both hands on the wood and leaning forward. The air shifts completely. My office is supposed to be a safe space, but with Julian standing before me, towering and commanding, it suddenly feels much smaller.
This space is where I’m the one in charge. The one in control. The replica office at Inferno sees all the action, sure, but I based it on this space. Now that Julian is here, perched on my desk like he owns the room, I can already feel the cracks forming in the facade.
“Kai,” he says, his voice too steady, as always. As if he’s completely unflappable. “What’s going on?”
My eyes don’t leave his. How the hell can he tell something’s bothering me? Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. He used to call me out on my moody shit all the time when we were teenagers.
“It’s nothing. I’m tired, and I have a meeting soon?—”
“For Christ’s sake.” He sighs, rounding the desk before I can stop him. He perches on the end, close enough that I could reach out and run my hand up his thigh. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, do you know that?”
I swallow. The words are in my throat, ready to spill out. His presence is suffocating—all-consuming—in the best and worst ways. Sophie’s words from earlier play through my mind in a loop. Julian’s phases. His hyperfixations. And me, the one thing he hasn’t fully committed to, but also won’t let go of.
Pottery. Cycling. Japanese. Hip-hop dancing. And now… me. A phase to be worn until it no longer fits.
“You’re overthinking something again,” he says, his tone softer now. Almost coaxing. “Talk to me.”
I think of telling him everything. What the hell, right? It would save me the torture of getting more invested only to get my heart stomped on.
But I don’t. I can’t. For some reason, I feel the need to keep these feelings to myself. Not forever, but for now. I mean, what does he expect me to say? Does he expect me to hypothesize about the way he and Sophie have completely upended my life? Or the way they’ve carved a space in my heart that I didn’t even know was there? Or perhaps about the way I’m terrified that I’ll never really belong to them—not the way they belong to each other?
When I don’t answer, he sighs again, his frustration clear. “Kai, this relationship will only work if we’re open and communicating. Do you understand?”
The word “relationship” hooks me like a fish. It’s not the first time I’ve wondered if that’s what this is, but hearing him say it out loud throws me off-balance.
Looking at him now, so self-assured, so at ease, I suddenly feel hot all over. “Is that what this is? A relationship?”
Julian arches a brow, his expression bemused. “I suppose so. What else would it be?” I open my mouth to respond, but he continues before I can get the chance. “We’re having fun, right? It doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.”
And… there it is. That easy, casual tone he always defers to. The one that somehow feels like sandpaper against my raw nerves. I remember how he’d brush over any vulnerable feelings as teenagers. How he’d change the subject, or make a joke to diffuse the situation.
We’re having fun, right? It doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.
He says it like it’s obvious, like it’s the only way to approach this, and for the first time, it hits me just how different our perspectives might be.
“Right. Fun,” I echo, my voice flat.
“Isn’t it?” he presses, a hint of concern creeping into his expression. I force myself to nod, even though my stomach churns. “Kai?” His voice is firm now, pulling me out of my thoughts. He cups my chin, forcing me to look at him. “What do you need?”
The question lingers between us, and something inside me clenches.
I don’t know the answer. Maybe I don’t want to know.
But I know how to stop thinking.
Before I can stop myself, before I can unravel whatever this ache in my chest is, I slide off the chair, sinking to my knees in front of him.
I need to stop thinking. The only way to quiet the storm is to let him anchor me.
My heart hammers so loudly, I swear he can hear it. But I don’t look away.
Julian’s eyes darken as surprise flashes across his face, but it’s fleeting. His hand slips from my chin, trailing down to brush through my hair, gentle but deliberate. The touch is grounding, but it still feels like I’m grasping at smoke.
He’s right here, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s inaccessible.
“Is this what you need?” he asks softly, his voice smooth, calm. Like he knows. Like he’s letting me have this even if neither of us fully understands why.
“Yes.”
The word escapes before I can think too hard about it, before I can drag myself back to whatever emotion I’m trying to outrun.
And as his fingers tighten ever so slightly in my hair, grounding me, I let the tension ease. Even if just for a moment.
His answering smile is slow, predatory—and it makes my stomach tighten. “Good.”
The door to my office is locked. I’m usually more cautious—it’s why I don’t play here—but it’s late, nearly five or six p.m., and the building is quiet, everyone else long gone for the day.
The meeting is across campus, anyway.
Lighten up, I tell myself. You’ve been grumpy all fucking day.
Julian slides his hands through my hair, gripping it just firmly enough to make me gasp in surprise. My heart is fucking galloping. I’ve never done this before, and until recently, never thought about doing this before. But I don’t hesitate as he unbuttons his pants. The sound of his belt and the rustling of fabric echoes loudly in the quiet room.
This all feels sacrilegious.
And that thought only spurs me on.
I shouldn’t want him this much. I can feel the heat simmering beneath my skin, and it’s too much, too fast, like I’m chasing something I know will disappear.
“Kai—”
I pull his boxer briefs down and stare at his cock. It’s pretty. Thick, veiny, with a pink head—a pink head that’s leaking precum. The thought of turning him on so much that he’s already leaking precum only makes my cock harder.
Looking up at Julian, I let my hand slide over his length. It’s smooth and hard all at once, and it feels both familiar and foreign to me. His lashes flutter for just a second before his eyes bore into mine, steely and hard.
“Suck,” Julian orders, his tone commanding.
It sends a jolt of arousal straight through me, and I don’t hesitate to take him fully into my mouth.
The act of sucking, of letting my tongue explore the texture and soft feel of his shaft, feels strange. Everything is different from what I expected it to be—the salty taste, the heavy weight, the rhythm of my mouth as I move to take him into the back of my throat. It feels overwhelming, but not in the way I thought it would be.
And the sounds he makes—low, guttural—vibrate through me and send a tingling sensation down my spine.
“Fuck, Kai,” he murmurs, his voice frayed. His hand fists my hair tighter, guiding me deeper. I let him do it. I want him to. “Fuck, that’s it,” he adds.
My cock throbs with need at the noises he’s making. He sounds completely indecent, with the small whimpers that escape his throat and the low, deep growls that I can feel before I hear. Rocking his hips into my mouth, I let my tongue swirl around his length. And, because I know how amazing it feels, I use one hand to grab onto his ass, holding him deep inside my mouth, and the other to cup his balls.
The way his body shudders, the way his cock hardens just slightly, makes me cant my hips forward against nothing.
I need a release, because this is so much hotter than I thought it would be.
“I’m going to come soon,” Julian warns, squeezing my hair and trying to pull me away. “Kai, fuck, I’m so close?—”
I suction my cheeks, and he groans too loud for comfort before his cock spills into the back of my throat. I heave and gag, but I attempt to take it all, swallowing quickly. The salty, bitter cum coats the back of my throat, and when he finishes, he pulls out with a ‘pop’ and a mouth that’s hanging open.
I wish I could capture his face right now, because I’m pretty sure I could get Julian Ashford to do anything at this moment.
Pulling me to my feet, his hands keep me steady as I sway. My knees feel weak, and I adjust myself. The way he’s looking at me, a mix of awe and perhaps something he didn’t expect, sates me.
“You okay?” he asks, brushing a thumb over my scruff.
I nod, but what just happened settles over me, heavy and suffocating. I thought this would help—I thought it might clear my mind if I just submitted to him.
Like perhaps I’d find the answers between dropping to my knees and tasting all of him.
But now I feel like I’m caught somewhere between belonging and breaking.
As his hand cups my jaw, I let my stoic expression slide off, giving way to something I’m sure resembles vulnerability. The truth is impossible to ignore now. Especially when I close my eyes and lean into his touch.
I need them.
But not like this—not like a passing visitor. I need more.
I need to be their everything, too, or I don’t think I can do this at all.
“You’re overthinking again,” Julian says, his voice pulling me back to the present.
I want to tell him he’s wrong, that I’m fine, that I can handle this. But I can’t. Because the truth is, I don’t know how to balance what I feel for them with the life I’ve built. The life I’m supposed to live.
The rosary on the shelf catches my eye, and I can’t help but laugh softly—bitterly. The pastor. The Dominant. The brother. I’ve spent years keeping those parts of myself separate, hidden behind walls of control and self-preservation. But Julian and Sophie have undone all of that.
“Something funny?” he asks.
“Not really,” I say, my voice hollow.
He studies me for a moment, his amusement fading into something softer. “We’re not going anywhere, you know,” he says quietly. “Whatever’s going on in that head of yours, you don’t have to deal with it alone.”
The words are meant to be comforting, but they only make the ache worse. Because I know the truth: I want them. Both of them. But I don’t know if I can ever really have them.
That’s becoming clear with each passing day.
When Julian leans down to kiss me briefly, his lips warm and sure, I let him. Because for now, it’s enough.
But I don’t know how long it will be enough.