23. Unholy #2
The man knows what he’s doing, acting as the frame to my picture.
Every movement has us in perfect harmony, but he makes sure I’m the one on display, the one everybody’s eyes are drawn to.
His hands graze over my hips to my stomach and eventually down my thigh as he lifts my leg to wrap it around his waist. We continue swaying to the rhythm, but the percussion has us all but grinding.
A few wolf whistles and catcalls sound off around us, and Reed pulls me in close enough that his breath falls across my lips, offering a rare smile worthy of the Joker. “I’d say your boy looks none too happy.”
I don’t have to ask who he’s referring to, and it takes everything in me not to look, but I still can’t stop grinning. If Jase doesn’t like what he sees, then he can look somewhere else.
And the knowledge that he is indeed looking at us only encourages me as I drag my fingers down Reed’s chest to his navel, still not backing away. To the casual observer, it probably looks like we’re about to kiss.
That is, until a blunt is shoved between us.
Reed and I look over to see it’s Maggie, who keeps insisting we take a hit. At least, that’s what I assume she’s trying to say. It’s hard to understand her amid all of the giggling. Reed takes the joint from her and helps himself to a drag before offering it my way.
I’ve only ever tried pot twice in my life and never really cared for it, but I’ve also got a serious case of the fuck-its right now. What’s the harm in taking a drag?
I wrap my fingers around the blunt, ready to bring it to my lips—
But someone seizes hold of my wrist, prying the blunt away.
“Awww, don’t be a party pooper,” Maggie whines, trying to snatch it back, but Reed and I turn to watch Jase stamp it out under his boot.
“What the fuck, dude?” Mr. Adonis looks none too happy, especially since the joint could have easily been extinguished without ruining it.
Jase doesn’t give two shits, not even bothering to acknowledge the guy. Nope, his attention is homed in entirely on me, and, oh boy, is he pissed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I was looking for a quiet place to read,” I deadpan, only receiving a scowl in response. “Why do you think? Reed’s worked with one of the bands here and got us the invites.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Is he serious?
I scoff. “Why? Is there some new bullshit rule that says I’m not allowed to have fun in front of you?”
I gesture to the remains of the blunt on the floor, which earns me another scowl.
Whatever he says gets drowned out by a nearby group of frat boys cheering over something I can’t see. Jase tries to reach for my arm, but I’m not in the mood, shoving his hand away.
The jackass evidently doesn’t like that very much, because the next thing I know, he bends over and grabs hold of my waist. In one fell swoop, he, too, throws me over his shoulder and begins carrying me through the crowd.
While Reed proved capable of handling my weight, Jase proves to be made of goddamn steel.
His hold refuses to give no matter how much I fuss and kick.
He just keeps plowing through the crowd with me until we’ve reached a back hallway, where the noise pollution is considerably lower.
However, it does nothing to lessen his anger because his scowl only deepens when he looks back out towards the dance floor, his chest heaving.
“What is your problem?” I demand.
“You don’t belong here.” The way he says this—slow and loud—has my fingers balling into fists at my sides, but he doesn’t care.
No, he’s more focused on Reed, who comes charging through the crowd right for him. Clearly, my friend isn’t a fan of me being manhandled either because he shoves Jase back from me.
The latter anticipates the action, bracing his feet so that he barely moves more than a step away. The stance he immediately takes only raises more red flags, because it looks an awful lot like he’s squaring up to fight.
And much to my horror, Reed looks all too ready to oblige, forcing me to step between the pair. Would I like to see Jase with another black eye? Sure. Would I like to see Reed in the hospital? Definitely not.
Because I have a feeling Jase could very well make that happen.
“If you insist on playing guard dog for her, you might want to up your game,” he says to Reed, looking downright pissed.
“What are you talking about?” I snap. This jackass is the one who just kidnapped me. If he cares about my protection, maybe he’s the one who should stop.
“Smoke Stack here should be fine,” Jase says, nodding to Reed, “but I have a feeling your other friend is going to be in for a rather gnarly trip in not too long.”
“Excuse me?” Is this asshole seriously threatening my friends?
As soon as Jase sees my expression, he rolls his eyes but still manages to keep his same brand of superiority.
“That pot you were about to enjoy—” he motions back out onto the dance floor “—is what some might refer to as palliative care. ”
Palliative care.
As in the highly potent form of medical marijuana that’s prescribed to hospice patients who are in excruciating pain.
I look at Reed, seeing that this is news to him, too, as we both curse.
Given what we’ve already seen Maggie inhaling over the last half hour, we’re inclined to agree with Jase. She’s going to be in for a rude awakening.
Since I’m supposed to be the designated driver on the ride home, I pull out Reed’s car keys and hand them back to him. “It’s fine,” I assure, knowing he’s battling between whether he should go to her or stay with me. “Just get Maggie, and take her home.”
I give Reed a wink that Jase can’t see, letting him know that I have no intention of staying here without them. I’m just saying it to fuck with this asshole a little longer, making him think I will.
Reed still hesitates, shooting Jase a warning look, but I nod, assuring him again I’ll be fine.
As expected, the jackass next to me doesn’t take this too well. The instant Reed leaves us alone in the hallway, Jase turns, getting right up in my face and damn near growling, “Go with them, please.”
That last word sounds an awful lot less like a request and a hell of a lot more like a warning of his own, only making me smile broadly up at him.
“Why? The night’s still young. I was thinking of inviting Wes to come and join me.”
Jase scoffs. “Yeah, I doubt this is Dickie Greenleaf’s scene.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so quick to judge,” I purr.
Placing my hands at the top of his chest, I slowly drag my fingertips down.
“I’m sure I could get him to loosen up just fine.
Not to mention, there are so many lovely dark places we could slip away into, like this one.
” My hands drift past his navel, the ends of my nails skimming the thin fabric of his undershirt just enough to make the muscles shudder ever so slightly. “Who knows what I’d let him do to me?”
“Get. Out. Of. Here.”
“Or what? Are you going to tattle on me to my parents?” I click my tongue. “Come on, Rivers. We both know that’s not your style.”
I stand on the tips of my toes, closing the distance between us so much that I can feel his breath on my lips. Whether he’s aware of it or not, his eyes drop to my mouth, heat unmistakably flaring to life in them. And that’s not the only place.
My hands fall from the bottom of his torso to the belt loops on his pants.
It doesn’t take much to reel him into me, barely more than a tug, and when Jase’s hips meet mine, I can feel every inch of him straining behind the denim of his pants.
I’m not sure if I’m a sadist or masochist, but feeling his cock pulsating against me ensures he’s not the only one affected.
“You fuck people over the only way you know how,” I whisper, nipping his bottom lip with my teeth. “By doing absolutely nothing .”
I know I’ve hit home, because my low laugh catches him off guard before I shove him back. Jase actually stumbles, and I take my victory in hand, casting him a shit-eating grin to beat all shit-eating grins before I turn and walk away.
Say what you want about retaliation; the catharsis it offers is pure gold. For the first time in nearly four years, the weight in my chest lifts, and a genuine smile touches my lips—
Before something else does.
Hands grab hold of my waist and whirl me back around, placing me once again in front of Jase as his mouth crashes against mine.
He abandons his hold on my waist, favoring my hair, driving me backward until my spine meets the cement wall.
There’s nothing remotely gentle in the act, and we both seem to prefer it that way as his body covers mine, pinning me in place.
I try clinging to some shred of sanity, but I can’t.
Not when his tongue continues stroking mine like that.
He’s beyond insatiable, and I can’t help but to respond in kind, feeling the length of him pulsate against my clit.
Or maybe that’s me pulsating. Every sweep of his tongue only makes it grow stronger, to the point that shivers radiate up my spine despite the humid air.
Jase fists the hair on the back of my head, forcing my eyes up to meet his as he breaks the kiss. “Does that feel like nothing ?”
Mother.
Fucker.
He expects me to concede? To admit he has any effect on me or my body?
Screw that, and screw him.
Muzzling my fury, I reward the question with another shit-eating grin. “Yes.”
“Is that right?” He releases his hold on my hair, at least with one hand. It finds its way between my thighs at the hem of my skirt. The action isn’t rough, and Jase leaves me enough time to shove him back, if I want.
But there’s the crux of it all.
If I want.
I want to tell him to go fuck himself.
I want to show him he can’t get under my skin anymore.
I want to be free of his influence.
I want to let him know I won’t be bullied into backing down.
I started this game, and I want to win it.
So I don’t do anything, grinning up at him defiantly, even as his fingers brush further up the inside of my thighs until he reaches the apex. Still, he takes his time, pushing my panties aside, giving me every chance to stop this, but I refuse…
And instantly regret it.
Not because I don’t want his touch.
Because it takes everything in me not to reveal how much I revel it as his finger circles my clit. It isn’t demanding or rough, and that ghost of a sensation, teasing me but not fully committing, has my teeth clenching as I suppress a whimper.
I want him to add more pressure.
I want him to stop fucking with me.
I want him inside of me—
“Is this nothing?” he rasps, grinding the heel of his palm against me.
My mouth forms the word, but I’m not sure if anything leaves my lips. I’m too focused on not giving myself away, on not crying out, on not grinding myself against him in return.
But I must say yes, because he hooks my leg up near his waist and parts my folds, pressing two fingers inside of me.
I don’t even know why I bothered fighting.
The second he reached my panties, he could feel how wet I was.
Jase reclaims my mouth, pumping his fingers in and out of me, and when I can’t bite back my moan anymore, I finally let go.
Rocking into him, I meet his pace as he pumps into me faster and faster.
Feeling a third digit enter me, my movements turn into all-out bucking, and when he curls his fingers, I’m gone. Unraveling.
The orgasm hits me so hard that all I can do is cling to him, trembling, as I clench around his fingers. Whatever sound escapes me is devoured by his mouth, and Jase only lets up when I’ve come back down.
But just barely.
The hand bracing my thigh comes up to hold my jaw. Jase doesn’t apply pressure, but the sight alone does more than earn my attention. It has goosebumps breaking out all across my skin as he grins down at me with a smile worthy of the Devil himself.
“You want to fuck Holbrooke and Blondie and every other guy in town?” he croons, nodding in the direction where Reed had left. “Go right ahead, darling. It doesn’t matter who’s inside you.”
He brings his mouth to my ear, the warmth of his breath making me shiver.
It doesn’t help that he scrapes his teeth over my earlobe. “We both know who you’ll be thinking about.”
Jase pushes back from the wall, placing the fingers that have been inside of me into his mouth. And like I’m nothing more than a common Fuck & Flee, he just grins, turns on his heels, and saunters back out into the crowd.