21. Twenty-One
Twenty-One
brAX
I was at war with myself.
Blasting Slaughter to Prevail in my headphones, I readjusted my boxing gloves, before unloading my frustration into the punching bag as hard as I could.
Jab-hook-hook.
I pictured Greg and Steven’s faces.
Jab-jab-hook.
Fuck them. They don’t know shit.
I pictured my face.
I drove my knee into the bag.
There was no way around it. I needed to tell Dylan the whole truth about Ally. I couldn’t risk Greg telling her. I didn't think he would betray my trust, but it had sounded like he was throwing out warning shots.
Hook-hook-hook.
I continued to punch, knee and kick the shit out of the boxing bag in the hotel gym, like this physical punishment would somehow alleviate all of my problems.
Maybe if I hit the bag hard enough, I’d knock some sense into myself. I hated keeping secrets.
Especially from Dylan.
Jab-jab-jab.
I’ll end things with Ally and then tell Dylan everything . Dylan will understand why I kept certain things from her. Right?
Jab-jab-knee.
My inner critic wasn't letting me off the hook that easily though. The harsh self-talk continued.
You’re still lying to both of them. You’re a liar and a cheat.
Hook-hook-knee.
Punish. Punish. Punish.
The sweat was pouring off my body as I gripped the top of the boxing bag. Resting my head on the hardened bag, I sucked in a few deep breaths.
God, what am I doing?
My thoughts drifted to Ally.
At the beginning of our relationship, it felt like it could have been something special—like we could be the kind of couple people looked at and thought, yeah, that works.
But we never had that spark. Or the chemistry. We didn't have that can't-keep-your-hands-to-yourself kind of attraction that existed with Dylan.
What Ally and I had was convenience. We tried to force feelings that were never there to begin with. I knew it, and tried to end it.
But, stupidly, I listened to people who convinced me to shift my perspective. I hated that fucking small town mindset. Everyone thought they were entitled to voice their opinion, even if you never asked for it.
Ally will make someone happy.
Just not me.
It was never meant to be me.
And that's what made this affair with Dylan so easy to justify. It was real. The heat was there. But so was that deep, emotional connection.
I was so fucking stuck on her.
Half of me is feral if I’m not touching her, while the other half of me is at peace just by being in her presence. With Dylan, nothing was forced. I didn’t have to pretend.
Something I’d never felt, and would never feel, with Ally.
***
Sweating, I packed away my boxing gloves, grateful that I chose to blow off steam after the confrontation with Steven.
I shouldn't have let him get under my skin so badly.
He was clearly a snake, someone not to be trusted. Dylan mentioned the Studio Pase project was his last one before he left Gellar and Summers for good. I wondered if that was why he was such a dick; because he was on the way out, his care factor was at zero. Maybe that's what he meant when he said he was untouchable.
Even still, I hadn’t realized he'd been watching Dylan and me so closely. That was fucking strange, regardless.
Had we been that obvious?
Leaving the gym, I stepped out onto the pool deck, thankful no one else was there. Located on the sixth floor rooftop, lush greenery and towering palm trees surrounded the pool. The water shimmered from the reflection of the bright midday sun.
At one end of the pool, a waterfall cascaded down a rocky ledge, its gentle murmur nearly drowned out by the sound of traffic from the busy city streets below.
I dumped my towel, drink bottle and phone on a sun lounge and stretched my arms into the air, leaning side to side, keen for a swim.
Diving in, the cool rush of water was a welcome sensation after working up a sweat. I began to cut some laps, and as I glided through the water, my thoughts refused to quit.
I should have broken up with Ally when I had the chance.
Tumbling underwater and cursing myself for not listening to my gut ages ago, I spun and kicked off one end of the pool to begin another lap.
Fuck, it was feeling messy.
Dylan and I had crossed a line, but so far, we'd only kissed.
And had hot phone sex.
But I wanted more.
Needed more.
I wanted to fuck her, make her mine, hear her scream my name.
But I also actually wanted to be with her. Give what we once had another shot.
I wondered if she felt the same. We hadn’t said much to each other about what was going to happen once we both went back to our homes and our lives.
I was lost in my thoughts when I noticed someone entering the pool via the ladder. I pulled up.
I would recognize that body anywhere.
It was Dylan, wearing a tiny, pink string bikini.
Holy shit.
“Well, hello,” she purred as she lowered herself down the ladder and into the pool. “Imagine running into you here.”
I swam over to her, our bodies lightly touching. The memories from the night before came flooding back.
“Imagine that,” I replied, smiling. Wasting no time, I grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her into me. Any concern I had about being out in the open, disappeared as Dylan wrapped her legs around my waist.
“Someone might see.”
“There’s no one around," I replied.
The water enveloped us, cooling our heated skin. Her arms draped over my shoulders and her fingertips caressed the back of my hairline. My eyes drifted down to her beautiful, round tits.
Submerged in the water, I walked her towards the waterfall.
“Why aren’t you at the conference?”
“I’ve been. I only had to attend the morning session today.”
She adjusted her position slightly, grinding her hips into me in the process which sent thousands of pleasurable jolts to my dick.
“Last night was fun,” she said quietly, her eyes smoldering as the water lapped against our bodies. “Did you like it?”
"You know," I leaned in and lightly kissed her lips. "I fucking loved it."
She dropped her eyes to my mouth.“What is this Brax? What is happening between us?”
I ran my hand along the base of her spine. "Whatever we want."
She tickled the back of my neck with her long nails, causing my body to shudder. “This is wrong...”
She unhooked her arms from around my neck. Leaning back, with her legs wrapped around my waist, she stretched out, her torso sinking into the water as she dipped her head underneath.
Her tight and toned body laid out across the water, before she broke the surface, coming back up for air.
Slicking her hair back, water droplets ran down her face, dripping over her chin, and down over her busty chest.
I swallowed hard as my cock throbbed with need.
In silence, I walked us deeper into the pool, her body snaking around mine, as we continued to look at each other.
She studied my body, tracing her fingertips over my shoulders and down onto my chest. I studied her, studying me, committing her flawless facial features to memory.
“You’ve got so many new tattoos.”
We floated in silence while she looked at my artwork intently. Her gaze stopped on my upper left arm, where a heart was permanently inked. A blank banner was splashed across it.
“Why is this banner blank?”
“I'm waiting for the right name.”
It was then I noticed that she was grinding on me. Up and down, she rolled her hips into mine, under the water.
Leaning into me, she whispered. “Who’s name?’
Closing my eyes, I allowed my body to feel every sensation. From her nails scratching down my back, to her hot breath on my neck, to that friction caused by her hips.
She’s driving me fucking crazy.
If this wasn’t a hotel pool I would have ripped those bikini’s off and fucked her right then and there. My hands dropped to her firm ass as she continued to grind herself on me. “A bad girl's.”
She worked her hips up and down on me and all I could think about was how she would feel wrapped around my cock.
“Do you know any bad girls, Brax?” She asked, her breath labored, as she brought her face to meet mine.
The water lapped at our chins as she worked me breathless.
“The baddest.”
Her breath shuddered, our lips were almost touching. “I want you,” she whispered, running her smooth, pink tongue along my bottom lip.
I gripped her ass tighter, digging my fingers into her firm skin.
Fuck, she could bring me to climax just by doing this.
But that wasn’t an option, not in the pool.
She looked up towards the hotel. Alarm flashed in her eyes. "Shit," she said. "I've got to go."
Hurriedly, she unlocked herself from me, and swam to the ladder.
What the fuck?
With my brain still firmly in my shorts, I watched her hoist herself up the pool ladder, water dripping off that beautiful, sun-kissed, toned body.
Halfway up the ladder, she turned to face me, nodding towards my shorts. “Down boy.”
She winked at me, then grabbed her towel and headed back inside the hotel, leaving me alone in the pool with a raging hard on.
I lifted my gaze, trying to figure out what had made her leave so abruptly. And there, halfway up the building, I spotted a figure standing at the window.
Watching.
It was Steven.
Fuck.