Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
O n Saturday evening, Mum knocks on our bedroom door and pops her head inside. She sees me on the bed with my phone and enters the room. “Where’s Arkin?” she asks.
“Bathroom,” I reply without looking up from the screen. We won Friday’s game, and my teammates are still on a high.
Mum sits on the edge of my bed and puts her hand on my knee. “I’ve been thinking that it’s probably a good idea if you take Arkin to meet your friends. You should bring him with you tonight.”
I pause typing. “Excuse me?”
“He’s been cooped up in here a lot. He starts college soon, and making friends could benefit him.”
“They’re my friends.”
Can’t he make his own friends? Why steal mine?
“Yes, but…” She drifts off, glancing at the bathroom door when the shower turns off. She looks at me, and I throw my phone down. “Please, Zachary. It could be good for him to socialize.”
I gnash my teeth, watching Mum stare at me with her notorious pleading look—the one that would make Dad leave the house in a fucking snowstorm late at night, during a zombie apocalypse, to buy her doughnuts if she asked for some.
“Please.”
“Fuck, fine.” I sigh.
The door to the bathroom opens. Arkin exits and stops in his tracks when he sees Mum.
At least he’s fully dressed for once and not in a towel that’s barely clinging to him.
He walks over to his side of the room and grabs his spray-on deodorant. Over the last few days, I’ve avoided him as much as possible by staying out late and finding excuses not to be home. Though, of course, Mum had to intervene with my master plan.
He reaches beneath his T-shirt and sprays his armpits.
Mum smiles at me as she squeezes my thigh. Then she stands up and offers the same gentle smile to Arkin, but he isn’t looking at her because his attention is on me.
Always on fucking me if we’re in the same room.
I can’t breathe.
When she finally walks out, I flop back down on my bed and dig my fingers into my eyeballs. The room smells of his Lynx Africa deodorant and minty shampoo, and I try not to notice it, but it’s impossible not to. I can’t not notice him when he’s around, and it’s messing with my head.
Sitting back up, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and rest my elbows on my thighs. “You’re coming with me today to meet my friends.”
Arkin shifts in my periphery, but I don’t look at him. Instead, I stand up and stretch my arms overhead, stifling a yawn. “Be ready in ten, or I’m leaving without you.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re in the car on our way to my teammate’s house. Darkness has settled, and the lights on the dashboard provide the sole illumination inside the vehicle out here on the country road.
I turn on the full beams after an oncoming car drives past and glance sideways at Arkin. He stares at the dark road ahead but peers at me when he senses my attention on him, and I quickly look back out the windscreen before clearing my throat.
I do that a lot when he’s around.
He smooths a large, veiny hand down his thigh, and I home in on the movement like a damn missile, but then my attention drifts higher until I’m staring at his bulge.
Fuck…
Suddenly uncomfortable, I focus on the road again, wringing the steering wheel, and wonder, on a scale of one to ten, how angry my parents would be if I pulled over and kicked him out of the car.
With a little luck, he should be able to find his way back, right?
I glance at him again and my cock swells when he drums his thumb on his thigh. Even that small movement screams sex. Everything about him does, or at least that’s what my damn dick seems to think in his presence.
Discreetly adjusting myself, I almost swerve. Horny and fidgety. Not to mention grateful for the dark night, which hides the outline of my engorged cock.
We somehow arrive in one piece. The party is in full swing as we pull into the front yard, packed with cars parked haphazardly across the lawn. The house towers ahead, its grand entrance framed by glowing lanterns and marble steps littered with empty beer bottles. A couple makes out against the railing, oblivious to the thrum of music and bursts of rowdy laughter spilling from the backyard.
I cut the engine and point at the house with my hand still on the steering wheel. “Things can get wild in there. Don’t leave without me, alright? We’re too far away to walk back.”
My parents would wring my neck if something happened to Arkin at one of these parties.
Arkin says nothing, but his eyes warm the side of my face.
Flustered, I mutter under my breath and exit the car. Luckily there’s oxygen out here, unlike the inside of my vehicle.
Arkin shuts the car door, and I start toward the house, aware of him behind me.
When I step onto the porch, a guy with his tongue down some random chick’s throat breaks away and we bump knuckles. “Zachary, my man.”
I clap him on the shoulder and enter the house. The music is louder here, the base vibrating the walls. A group of people have gathered in the hallway, and we shoulder through. When I’m forced to stop because a drunk dude runs past in nothing but his SpongeBob briefs, Arkin bumps into my back.
Stiffening, hesitating for a moment, I feel his breath on my neck. His clothes carry the crisp scent of evening air, mingled with something warm and masculine that’s uniquely him.
“There you are!” Harrison calls out, finding us on the threshold to the living room. He glances behind me, and I almost jump forward when I realize how close Arkin is standing and what it must look like.
I scratch my neck as I introduce them, and Harrison slaps his hand in Arkin’s and shakes like they’re best buddies. “Nice to meet you, man. Welcome to the party.”
While Harrison has a one-sided conversation with Arkin, I flop down on the couch and rest my shoe on the edge of the coffee table. I usually live for parties like this, but now I see them from Arkin’s perspective—drunk, half-naked girls grinding on the makeshift dancefloor while some of my teammates hover nearby like hungry vultures. Empty bottles and plastic cups litter the coffee table, a fucking mess I won’t be around to clean in the morning.
“Baby!” Amy saunters over in a tiny leopard print dress and red heels. She plops down on my lap and crushes her lips to mine before I can say a word. “I missed you.”
Her tongue invades my mouth, leaving behind a sharp tang of cheap raspberry vodka. As she straddles me, a soft wave of vanilla perfume curls in the air, warm and sweet.
Ryan arrives and hands Arkin a bottle of beer, which he sniffs but doesn’t drink. Amy keeps kissing me for a long time, but all I can see is a set of blue eyes that seem to burn right through me.
It's safe to say I’ve never kissed a woman while staring at a dude. It’s fucking awkward yet arousing at the same time, and I don’t know what to do with these emotions.
Amy breaks away and presses her damp lips to my ear. “Did you miss me?”
Her hips roll, so I grab them to stop her from dry-humping me in public. I wouldn’t usually care, but it feels wrong tonight.
Ryan waves a girl in a short red dress over, introducing her to Arkin, and when she eyes him sultrily and walks her long nail down his T-shirt, my stomach flips.
Amy notices that I’ve suddenly grown stiffer than a damn corpse. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
Arkin isn’t looking at me anymore because his attention is on the girl and her flirty smile.
I don’t like it.
Not one fucking bit.
I’m about to lift Amy off me and tell the girl to take a hike when Amy suddenly stands up and pulls me to my feet. Arkin is still distracted by the girl, much to my bemusement. She isn’t even remotely shy about trying to bed him.
Amy presses up on her tiptoes, her teeth grazing my jaw, then interlinks her fingers with mine and starts leading me away from my friends. As we head for the stairs, I glance back at Arkin, and our eyes lock for a brief moment before Amy tugs me forward, dragging me away.
It’s weird—this pull he has on me.
“Don’t worry,” Harrison calls out, tipping the bottleneck in my direction. “We’ll look after him.”
Amy giggles, her hips swaying seductively, but I’m still staring at Arkin.
We turn the corner at the top of the stairs. It’s quieter up here, and the hallway is empty except for a drunken couple exiting one of the bedrooms. The guy hasn’t even done up his belt yet, and when they spot us, they laugh like they share a secret.
Amy pulls me down for a kiss, and we stumble into a random bedroom. She continues kissing me as she unbuckles my belt and backs me up toward the bed. I barely have time to make sense of my racing thoughts and confused emotions before she shoves me onto the mattress and slides her shoulder straps down, one after the other.
Her dress falls in a heap on the floor, and she stands before me in her tall heels and baby-blue lace panties. I swallow hard, struck by the sudden urge to escape, but I don’t get the chance to before she peels her panties off and straddles my hips.
Her tits bounce with the movement, and before I can blink, she crushes her lips to mine and moans loudly, switching on the bedside light. Days ago, I’d be all over her and her perfect body, but I feel fucking strange tonight.
“Do you love me, baby?” she asks as she frees my length and strokes it.
“Love you?”
“You’ve never said it.” She nips my lip with her teeth and sinks down on my cock, one inch at a time. “I’m good to you. I keep you satisfied.”
“Fuck…” I grunt, gripping her hips. She’s so damn tight that a hiss escapes me when she bottoms out.
“I want to hear you say it, Zach.” She rises up on her knees then slams back down, and I take one of her pebbled nipples in my mouth to distract her because the last thing I want is to have this conversation now, or ever.
To my relief, she fucks me with smooth rolls of her hips that have the bed creaking rhythmically while I try not to think of Arkin downstairs. Yes, I really fucking try to shut out any thoughts of him and the girl that was flirting with him.
“You like that, baby?” Amy asks.
My head and cock are at odds. The sex feels good yet also wrong, and my stomach churns with unease as my balls tighten. I climb higher and higher, biting the soft flesh, fingers pressing into her slim waist, and she rides me harder and faster, mussing up my hair as I suck on her tits. We kiss, and she drags her sharp nails over my scalp.
“You’re so big…” Rocking against me, she throws her head back and moans. “You feel so good.”
My fingers twitch on her waist as her pussy squeezes me. She’s close. We’re chasing that final high when Arkin comes into view across the room. He’s in the shadows, leaning against the wall beside the door with his arms folded over his muscular chest, one ankle crossed over the other.
I freeze, but Amy doesn’t notice. She rides my cock even faster and whimpers my name while I stare into a set of deep blue eyes.
Holy fuck…
Even from here, I notice the twitch in his jaw.
“Baby,” Amy whines, bouncing on my length. “I’m about to… Oh, fuck. Yes!”
Her pussy strangles my cock, and I can’t hold back.
Wrapping my arms around Amy’s sweaty waist, I thrust deep, groaning through my release.
Arkin remains motionless, but I can’t look away.
The orgasm lasts longer than any I’ve had before, my cock twitching inside Amy. Her sharp nails drag down my scalp and neck to my back as I crush her with my arms, afraid to fall apart if I let go. There’s a good chance it could happen.
I rest the side of my cheek against her soft breasts, grounded by the sharp sting, panting—buried deep inside my girlfriend.
Arkin continues to observe, his eyes gleaming.
I should let Amy know he’s here and hide her modesty. But the truth is I like his eyes on me, and I came harder than ever before because he watched. How fucked up is that?
“Do you love me?” Amy asks again, back to playing with my mussed-up hair.
I don’t know what to tell her. I feel trapped because no guy can tell a girl he doesn’t love her right after sex. That’s just fucking cruel, which is what she’s banking on. Amy isn’t stupid. No, she’s sly and cunning like a fox. I always liked that about her, but not anymore… not when the noose tightens around my neck.
Arkin unfolds his arms and walks out, leaving me with a weird yearning in the center of my chest.
I don’t like my cock inside Amy anymore, or the scratch of her nails on my scalp, or her tits in my face.
“Yes,” I whisper, not ready to face the truth yet. “I love you.”
I’m a mess on the ride back home. There’s no other word for it. I stink of sex and Amy’s vanilla perfume. And all I want is a fucking shower and sleep.
Arkin shifts his big body beside me. It’s subtle, but I stiffen everywhere, aware of his soft breaths and movements, no matter how slight.
When Amy and I returned downstairs, he stared at me from the shadows, where he sat on an armchair. I spent the rest of the night nursing a beer and fighting the urge to steal glances while my friends tried to balance half-full bottles on their heads.
Momentarily distracting me, Amy dragged me to the dance floor and rubbed up on me like a cat in heat, but I couldn’t appreciate her round ass against my groin or the view of her cleavage. I barely saw her because my attention was solely on Arkin, even when I wasn’t looking at him.
At one point, Amy stuck her hand in my jeans when I took a mouthful of beer, and Arkin’s eyes burned a hole where she was rubbing me over my boxer briefs. But I’d never admit out loud how hard I got because he was watching.
I’m recalling all these things, growing increasingly uncomfortable, when Arkin puts his big hand on my thigh.
And just like that, my thoughts come tumbling down like a house of cards, which is unexpected.
The car swerves on the road before I get my shit together and pull us back into our lane.
“Jesus fuck,” I curse, breathing harshly, but I don’t stop him from sliding his hand higher up my thigh.
He watches me closely out of the corner of his eye, and I keep my attention on the road, hyperaware of the heat of his hand and how dangerously close it is to my dick. He could grab me if he wanted to.
And on cue, my cock begins to throb with need.
Need only he can satiate.
I’m ready to fucking beg him to touch me, but I bite down on my tongue and grip the wheel tighter. Goddammit.
His hand slips higher, his pinkie grazing my bulge, and a sharp breath escapes me before I can stop it. I glance down at his big, veiny hand and long fingers.
There are more prominent veins in his arm.
Holy fucking shit…
He grabs me, and I almost fucking come in my underwear as my shoe slips on the accelerator.
“Fuck,” I pant, flicking my gaze between the road and his large hand on my straining bulge. When he squeezes me through my jeans, I throw my head against the headrest and let out a string of curses.
Why does he have to feel so damn good? I should stop this. I need to, for fuck’s sake. But then he rubs me again, and I wring the steering wheel so damn hard, the leather creaks beneath my fingers.
My chest rises and falls rapidly for some unknown reason as I wrestle with my emotions. I’ve never wanted anything more than this. Nothing has ever felt more right, and that’s why this is scaring the living fuck out of me. I have a girlfriend. And not just any girlfriend—I have Amy, for god’s sake. The one everyone wants to fuck. And I bagged her. I shouldn’t want this.
Arkin…
He squeezes again, but this time, I shove his hand away. “What the hell, man? I’m not gay.”
I grind my teeth and run a trembling hand through my hair, agitated as fuck. Arkin’s intense gaze makes me fidgety, and I slam my hand down on the steering wheel. “What the fuck are you looking at? Leave me the fuck alone.”
But when I glare at him, my cock twitches and my breath hitches because, damn, I want his hand back on me.
I want him to jack me until I make a mess of us both, which is why I need to keep him at arm’s length.