Chapter 12 #2
It’s not that I mind touching him. If it was just about the sex, fine.
Unfortunately, it’s not. Santi craves touch.
For him, any extra touching other than what’s necessary to get off, makes him brighten like a glow stick.
I know his heart swells and he gets all these butterflies in his stomach.
He’s made it very clear how he feels about me and how I make him feel.
But I want nothing to do with that shit.
What’s between us needs to be purely physical.
It’s not that I’m ashamed of being with Santi.
My sexuality is fluid—always has been. Men, women… Who the fuck cares who you find attractive? And Santi would be a catch for anyone if he set his sights on them. It would be fucking insane to be embarrassed with him by my side.
The problem is that I’m ashamed of myself for how mentally weak I am.
This moment of ecstasy will last seconds.
The guilt that will come right afterward will haunt me until the next time Santi comes begging for my cock.
I shouldn’t be enjoying my life. Not on my own or with Santi or with any other partner.
I should be atoning for the sins of my past. Every moment I’m not thinking of Abby, I’m failing her.
It sickens me how easily I succumb to temptation.
“Please, touch your good little whore,” Santi pleads, as his hips arch further and I sink deeper into his ass.
“You’re lucky you feel so fucking good that I want to reward you with touch,” I growl out.
Biting back a sigh, I lean over Santi’s back then reach around to wrap my fingers around his cock.
This isn’t what he’s asking for, but I know it will suffice.
As I grip him tight and pump my fist up and down his shaft, I thrust into his body harder.
The sound he makes, something between a groan and a cry, causes my own pleasure to wash over me.
Sweat begins to bead over my skin. The sound of our bodies slapping together is loud, overpowering the soft conversation of the characters on the TV screen. My balls tingle, my breath catches. I’m so fucking close…
Suddenly, Santi stiffens. His cry of pleasure is hardly more than a breathless wail. As his cum pours over my hand and onto my sheet, his body clenches around me and forces me over the edge.
Just as I begin to spill myself inside of him, my bedroom door suddenly flies open.
My head jerks up in surprise. There, standing on the threshold of the door, is Blair. Her mouth pops open and her eyes widen in shock. A choked-off grunt slips past my lips as another rope of cum shoots deep into Santi’s body.
Humiliation eviscerates the pleasure charging through me, ruining the much needed moment of release.
“Oh!” She gasps, drawing Santi’s attention.
Before he lifts his head, my hand is on the back of it, keeping him face down. At least one of us won’t have to face this fucking nightmare.
“I’m so sorry!” Her apology tumbles out so quickly that the words practically blend into one another. “I thought this was the door for the bathroom. I’m—”
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”
She’s gone before I even finish speaking.
The moment the door slams shut, Santi sits up and howls with laughter. I jerk my spent cock free from his body and scramble to get off the bed.
“Think she liked what she saw?” he asks, still laughing, as he rolls to the side and collapses next to his mess.
I grab my shorts from off the floor, drag them on, and storm toward the door. I’m trembling with fury as I yank it open and head into the hallway.
“Oh, come on, Rhett. Leave her alone. She made an honest mistake…” His voice trails off as I charge down the hallway.
When I get to the bathroom, I grab the knob and yank it so hard that I break the lock. Ledger will probably be pissed I broke it but he can go fuck himself right now. I shove the door open and step inside.
Rather than a startled yelp, as I expect, I’m met with a fist to the nose. My head snaps back as pain splinters through my skull.
“Fuck!” I roar.
“Oh, no!”
“Goddamnit!”
“I’m sorry, Rhett!”
“Son of bitch!”
Blair groans. “I’m so sorry, Rhett. It was a reflex, I didn’t mean to punch you! Crap, you’re bleeding. Hold on. I’ll grab a towel.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I bring my head back down to glare at her.
Our eyes meet and goddamn it… Blair has the nerve to smile. She bites her bottom lip. It’s a weak attempt to hide her amusement. Especially since her deep, brown eyes twinkle with mirth. Fucking twinkle. This woman is having the time of her life as she ruins mine.
Through clenched teeth, I promise, “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
With my other hand, I reach out and grab her wrist, halting her movement as she reaches to grab a towel inside the closet.
The amusement on her face flickers as her gaze locks onto where I’m holding her.
For a brief second, I swear something dark moves across her pretty features.
It’s gone though, before I get a chance to really hammer down exactly what it is I just saw.
Her expression becomes apologetic as she looks up at me.
“I’m really sorry. I was half asleep when I walked in on you two. I won’t tell anyone what I saw, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
There’s no doubt in my mind that both Ledger and Wes know that I occasionally fuck Santi. Between the cameras all around the house and how loud Santi can get—I’m sure they’ve figured it out. I don’t care if they know. That’s not the point.
I lean down into her face.
“Stay the fuck out of my room,” I hiss. “And don’t ever touch me again.”
I squeeze her wrist hard enough that she winces, then I let her go. With a snarl, I grab the roll of toilet paper sitting on top of the empty dispenser and storm back to my room.
Santi is waiting for me, still lounging on my bed. His hands are behind his head as he leans against the headboard. He grins as I enter.
“So,” he starts eagerly. “Did she ask for a repeat performance? Because I wouldn’t mind an audience if you’re up for it.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I snap.
Santi frowns as he studies me. Then, his eyes widen with alarm. “Is that… blood? What happened?”
He scrambles off the bed and hurries toward me. Before he can mother-bird me, my temper ignites.
I point to the door and roar, “Get out!”
With a sigh, Santi grabs his clothes from the floor.
“I’m going to crash in the guest room. It’s too late to go home tonight.” He slips on his pants before adding. “Have you changed your mind about playing The Hunt?”
“Yes,” I snarl, eager to erase the feeling of pleasure I’d sought with him, and the humiliation that followed, with a night of murder. “Find someone and get them here.”
I shouldn’t be feeling any of these things. I should be focused solely on my mission. Not on myself.
“Right, I’ll make it happen.” Santi heads for the door. “See you in the morning.”
I stomp across the room and slam the door behind him.