Chapter 80 #2
Ellie leans down, brushing her hair over one shoulder as she whispers instructions into my ear. She tightens the belt around my wrists, snug behind the chair.
“Got it, Lex?” Ellie asks.
I nod once.
“Alright, Wexley…” Bella says, voice like gasoline on an open flame. “It’s officially time for a Love Game.”
The place erupts. The water kicks on, mist and rain soaking everything in seconds. The synth hits fills the air, bass thick enough to crush a ribcage.
Fuck. Me. The girls circle me. Bella front and center. Ellie to my left, Haley to my right. Fingertips dragging over my shoulders and chest, teasing and claiming. Bella sinks between my knees completely drenched. She’s glowing, her eyes gleaming like she already knows exactly how I’ll break.
She slides her hands up my thighs. Her nails scratch across my jeans, right over the bulge that’s aching now, and I swear to God if there weren’t 200 people watching I’d rip through these restraints and—
“Un-fucking-tie me,” I growl.
Haley leans down, puts her lips to my ear. “Shhh…” she whispers. “Be a good King.”
They keep moving. Teasing and grinding around me. Ellie and Haley’s hands are everywhere, my chest, my hair, my neck.
And fucking Bella… she’s between my legs, her fingers closing around my cock over my jeans. She squeezes, once, twice and my hips jerk. My breath leaves my body in a sharp hiss.
She doesn’t stop. I’m not gonna make it. Every second is agony. Sweet, torturous heaven. I can’t hear shit except the thunder of the beat and the heat of her body pressed between my legs.
As the song winds toward the end, Ellie steps behind me. Her breath is hot against my ear. “You remember what to do?”
I nod as Ellie starts to untie the belt.
Bella takes a step back. I rise. The chair creaks as I stand, slow and predatory. Water pouring over my shoulders, the belt falling away, hitting the stage with a wet slap.
She keeps backing up, step by step, like a dare. My boots echo over the platform, stalking her in time with the rhythm.
I take one step forward.
She takes one step back.
The smirk on her lips grows, like she’s not scared, like she’s starving for me to catch her. The lights flare blood-red.
Her voice cuts through the air, “A LOVE GAME!”
That’s it. I lunge. She squeals as I grab her. My hands slide under her thighs as I hoist her up, legs locking around my waist like they fucking belong there.
She’s drenched, panting, laughing, and then I kiss her. No. I devour her. Mouths clashing. Tongues tangled. Her hands in my wet hair, tugging. My fingers grip her thighs so tight they’ll leave bruises. And she loves it.
The rain hits harder. Steam rises off our bodies. Her head drops back as I kiss down her throat, teeth scraping her skin, biting into the edge of her collarbone like a claim. She’s moaning in my arms for all of Wexley to see.
Ellie and Haley dance around us like sirens, spinning, flipping their hair, lost in the beat, but all I see is her.
The room explodes. The chant hits before Knox can even finish the damn announcement. “HOLLOW KINGS! HOLLOW KINGS!”
The floor shakes. The Catacombs roar. And I swear for a second, I forget I’m soaked, fucking hard, and on the verge of taking my girl on this stage in front of everyone.
Because all I can do is look.
Bella’s still in my arms, breathing heavy, smiling like she owns the fucking world. Ellie and Haley spin around us, glitter catching the lights like fire. The boys from The Row are banging on the rails, the Kings are chanting along with The Order, and Knox’s voice is drowned out by sound.
And I realize, they did this. This war that’s been boiling for years—Northvale vs. Wexley, Titans vs. Wolves, Hollow Kings vs. The fucking Order? These girls squashed it.
All of us… Rez. Callum. August. DeShawn. Knox. Chase. Me and Cade. We’re all here, together. The Trifecta didn’t just start a movement, they fused kingdoms.
I press my lips to her temple, still holding her like a lifeline. “Fuck, baby,” I whisper, voice rough with pride. “You realize you girls turned a rivalry into a reign?”
Knox’s voice rips through, still laughing from the chants. “How about tonight, y’all?!”
Three chairs are brought out to the end of the dance floor.
“Ladies,” Knox grins, “we need you to take your seats. So yeah, King Barinov… you’re gonna have to put her down.”
She looks at me with that wicked little smile, teeth on her bottom lip.
“This isn’t another Magic Mike thing, right?” I mutter as I set her down, reluctantly.
She just winks. The girls strut to their chairs and sit down.
Cade walks over and leans in close, lips grazing mine. “You look like you want to devour her.”
“I want to do a hell of a lot more than that,” I growl back, pulling him in for a kiss. “To both of you.”
He smiles and wraps his arms around my waist.
“Ok everyone! In just a few days, these queens fly out to Dallas for Nationals!”
The crowd screams. Whistles. Chants. Someone even rings a damn cowbell.
“And here at Wexley,” Knox continues, “school spirit is mandatory as fuck. So, our Wolves… they’ve got something to say to their girls.”
“I Believe That We Will Win!” Pitbull’s remix slams through the speakers.
Callum, August, and the rest of the Wexley football team explode out onto the floor like it’s game day at Kingsley Field. Full-blown hype mode. They form a circle around The Trifecta, jumping and chanting. Bella puts a hand over her heart, eyes glassy.
Cade nudges me, shouting over the music. “We doing this or what, King?”
We both charge the floor, barging into the circle, grab Bella and lift her off the ground as the chant builds around us. Ellie’s crying from laughter. Haley’s screaming with joy. I look over to see Rico and Javi smiling from ear to ear, wiping tears out of their eyes.
“Now this is how you hype up a dance team,” Rez says walking up to me and joining in the on the chaos.
???
Home - about to finally give Little Lex the release he’s wanted for fucking ever!
64 Days Since Henry’s Death
She’s slung over my shoulder like a sack of tipsy, glitter-drenched potatoes, singing what I think is Luke Bryan but might also be a hymn. Or a threat. Hard to say with that accent of hers curling around every note.
“She always get this southern when she’s wasted?” I ask as I unlock the apartment, steadying her with one arm.
“Only when she’s drunk and safe,” Cade mutters, hauling the duffels behind me. “Last time I heard it this strong was back in Nashville.”
I grin, because yeah, tonight was a fucking win.
Our girl laughed, danced, owned every inch of The Catacombs.
She was fire. She was back. I carry her into the bedroom and she mumbles something about bourbon and boots before flopping onto the mattress face-down, still in my hoodie and her leather shorts.
“She gonna get under the covers?” Cade asks.
“She was,” I mutter, brushing hair off her cheek. “Now? Dead to the world.”
We exchange a look, the one that says we’ve been waiting all goddamn night to finally touch her. After the dances, after Love Game, after her cowboy boots dug into my back while she moaned into my mouth.
My cock twitches.
Cade groans.
“Five minutes,” I say. “We grab the rest of her shit, come back, wake her up soft. Real soft.”
“Deal.”
We sprint down to the car like two dudes chasing a holy relic, grab The Trifecta’s luggage mountain, and drag it all back up. I’m sweating. Cade’s cursing. But we’re hyped. Ready.
And then I open the door. She’s curled on her side, snuggled in my hoodie, one boot still on.
Dead.
Ass.
Asleep.
Mouth open. One arm hanging off the bed. A little snore. I just stand there, staring at her. Cade walks in behind me, sees the scene, and literally wilts.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna punch a wall.”
“She moaned my name like two hours ago, Lex.”
“She rode me like a mechanical bull to Ludacris, Cade.”
We both just stare. Then I sigh, step forward, and slowly pull off her other boot. She doesn’t move. Cade gently covers her with the blanket. She snuggles deeper into the pillow, letting out a tiny content hum.
I press a kiss to her temple and whisper, “Sleep, baby.” Then I turn around and adjust a very angry Little Lex like a soldier defeated.
Cade’s right behind me, muttering, “Blue balls are a hate crime.”
We fall into bed beside her, staring up at the ceiling in silence.
“So, you wanna rock-paper-scissors for who gets the cold shower first?” Cade whispers.
“Fuck that. We both suffer.”