Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Jesse
I packed up my tool kit once I finished fixing her leaky en suite, hiding my hard on from Bay. The way she wiggled on my lap then shook her peachy perfect ass in my face… Damn, a man could live on those images alone. Maybe.
If he wanted a fast track to insanity.
And there was no way in hell I could get a private moment to work my needs out because we were both studying for the same damn law courses.
Her sassy as fuck smile as she offered to quiz me did it for me twice over.
I raked my hand through my hair to distract from my discomfort and prayed she didn’t see the evidence of my arousal breaking house rules.
Rules I fucking well hated even though I played by them all the same because Bailey Messer was the best thing that ever happened to me.
Hell, even as a foster kid who fell into a perfect family, that was saying something.
But that first week of college, she was there like a glowing fucking perfect angel.
All smiles and something wholesome to tame the darkness brewing inside me.
The moment she asked me if I wanted a roommate, I said yes.
Zero hesitation. The fact she was stunning aside, Baily gave me something I never felt anywhere else.
A home.
And I’d never told her.
“I’ve got training,” I muttered, shoving my tools haphazardly into their marked places. My OCD might fight me every inch, but I’d fix it later.
Training was a flat out lie, but it was one she’d buy when I needed to get the hell away from ger before I turned that simple all too handsy grab-and-spank earlier into something a whole lot more.
Something like one of the marathon fantasies that kept me awake most nights.
Right now I needed a run that burned my thighs and every muscle group from the legs up. That, or a plunge pool with a Scandinavian water temperature unless Bay wanted to find herself on her back and discover just how much of my inner darkness I held back from her.
Because the clean cut law school version of Allstar Jesse Lawrence, the foster kid who kept his head down and smiled politely no matter what and topped every class, had a box of kinks that would scare the shit out of the girl I obsessed over daily.
And control was my favourite game.
“So it’s fixed?” Bay blinked prettily as she peered around me, gripping the door frame to her en suite, reminding me that I still stood in her bedroom and IU hadn’t quite extricated myself from her offer to test me yet. Her top rode up a little, offering an expanse of toned skin.
“Not helping,” I muttered.
“Huh?” Bay tipped her head down to me and smiled. “Thanks so much.”
“It’s selfish help, honeybuns. I live here too.” I stared up at her, memorizing every line around her mouth, the way her muscles settled into a pretty ‘o’, the perfect shape for—
Fuck, my mind is filthy.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, training. And I know coach is gonna push so…maybe we can study together another night, huh? Pizza date?”
How fucking needy did I sound, begging for her attention? Mind, I wasn’t the only one. Bailey Messer was a hot ticket item on campus, though as far as I could tell, she was completely oblivious to that fact.
Bay leaned out of my space, swaying her hips a little. “I mean, it would have been a short session anyway.”
My mind diverted onto a different tangent than what she meant, doing an instant deep dive into exactly what a session with her entailed.
I was so lost in the thought of peeling each layer of clothing from her body and warming her skim with my hands until her sensitive zones were a decent shade of pink that I nearly missed what came out of that sassy, pretty mouth afterward.
Bay kept talking, having no idea that I’d zoned out. “So, cramming would be a bust with me anyway because I’ve got a date this evening. There’s leftover lasagne in the fridge.” Her mouth moved, forming a single word after that little tirade.
Sorry.
My system doused with that impromptu ice bath I wanted a moment before.
Wish granted.
“It’s fine. I can hang out with the boys afterward.” I shrugged like her date meant nothing to me.
It shouldn’t mean anything to me. That was the deal when I moved in with her. Hell, she nailed those rules to the refrigerator door, along with my balls, metaphorically speaking.
Thou shalt support thy bestie in all their endeavours, including dating.
Not that she dated at all, which was why this little announcement sent adrenaline slamming through my body on overdrive.
I had, on rare occasion. usually when Bay pushed me to socialize.
I kept the facade up to make her happy when really it was her hand I wanted laced in mine, and her mouth submitting to my kisses in the dark.
“You’ll be the frat house?” she frowned. Worry marred the perfect slant of her brow. “I thought you didn’t like being there.”
I shrugged, knowing I’d probably put in an appearance, or maybe do a little drive by stalking of her date.
Yeah, that last sounded good. Or maybe drive across the state so I kept my head out of her business and let her live her life.
Fuck. “I mean, what can happen at a frat house? It’s a few hours.
Or I can sit home, here, alone, and pine for my BFF because she’s abandoned me. ”
“Aren’t you laying it on thick?” she snorted, a bemused expression crossing her pretty face.
The way she leaned over me… Damn if I didn’t want to grab the front of her shirt, palm her stomach, and pull her down for a hard kiss just to find out what she tasted like.
It. Can’t. Happen. Asshole, I added internally, for the additional hell of heaping guilt on myself for wanting to obliterate that line we drew—together—on our first week at Rippton. Our first week in this house.
“I’ve got thick, baby,” I murmured. Without thinking the action through, I let my hand rise, skating my fingers over her tummy, tracing the edges of muscle there.
Her skin broke out in goosebumps, and she let out a soft, “ooh.” Those sea blue eyes darkened, glazing a little as I caught her shirt, tugging lightly, before they snapped open.
Fuck me, I’m in trouble.
The best kind.
The only kind with Bailey.
The kind I wanted so bad I ached.
Her lips parted and I knew she was ready to rip me a new one, so I did the only thing I could think of on the spot.
I tickled the shit out of her.
Bay writhed in the circle of my arms while I was merciless, finding all the sensitive spots I logged in my head over the years for that rainy day when I needed to call on the knowledge.
This just wasn’t the sort of rainy day I envisaged.
Her hair flung back, I blocked the doorframe with my arm so her head hit me instead of crowning herself on the hard wood. “Careful.” I eased up, gripping her waist firmly between my hands and relocating her to the hallway. “Go get ready before I spank your ass again, date girl.”
“Is that your fetish?” She released a nervous laugh, tucking her pale hair behind her ear, as though she’d been caught.
It’s not my fetish, it’s yours.
She left her laptop on the counter one night and when I went to close it to save her battery life, the screen opened leaving me staring at some seriously dirty porn featuring an array of implements that sent my blood pressure spiking.
And… Cue renewed hard on.
“Tell me about your date.” I made myself busy cleaning the mess I created while Bay parked her ass in the hall, ostensibly watching mine. “Do I need to whoop an ass to make sure he treats my girl right?”
Shit.
“Your girl, huh?” She released a sexy little laugh. “When did that happen, or did I sleep through it?”
“You ain't sleeping through that with me, honeybuns,” I assured her. “But I will whoop ass.”
“I’ll bet.”
Recalling her little fetish, I grinned, unable to resist teasing her. “Is it a daddy date? Dinner and a spanking sesh?” I glanced over my shoulder and batted my eyelashes at her.
“Stop it, you filthy boy,” she scolded me, pretending to fan herself.
Or maybe not so pretending.
I stared at her pinked cheeks harder. “You have no idea.”
“Hmmp. Welp. Thank you for fixing stuff. Tell me what you want for dinner later this week and I’ll make it.” She stood and yawned. “I’m shattered. Wish I could go back to sleep.”
“Take a raincheck?” I suggested.
“I can’t.” Her shoulders sagged a little. “I already put him off for the first round of exams.”
I frowned. “He’s not studying?”
Her cheeks pinked again. “No, he’s uh, a law…um…”
“Bay?” I raised my eyebrows saying nothing, and waited while she grew more and more flustered.
“Um, he’s…in law enforcement?” She winced, offering me a watery smile.
“Your date’s a cop?” I snorted, unable to hold back my derision.
“With the shit our parents and friends get away with?” Under the table deals back home often ended in collusion, occasionally fraud.
Frequently employed aggressive tactics with long term after effects, depending on the terms of negotiation if you really got on their wrong sides.
You know, like death.
I came across my mother cleaning up her first body int he kitchen at the tender age of eight. Since I was the only one about, I received a firsthand lesson on how to bag and joint body bits to fit better in smaller packages.
Bay fluffed her hair, and I wondered what life lessons she learned at home, how tough her family had been on her. Suddenly I didn’t want her to go on the date with the doofus cop at all. My expression may have warned her out as hers became guarded.
“It’s just for fun.”
“Yeah, right.” I weighed my options when she frowned. A long breath left my chest, leaving me empty. I didn’t want to do this but…
Thou shalt not lie.
“Or he’s undercover, on an investigation and figured the best way to get answers in this tarnished little college town with too many rich brats and not enough morality is a head on approach.
The moment he starts to interrogate you, call me.
I’ll come pick you up and we can have that spanking sesh, okay honeybuns? ” I fucking promise.
My joke fell flat in the silence that permeated the three feet of pensive air between us.
“It’s not going to be like that.”
Yeah, right.
“It’s not,” she snapped, a little louder, stalking away.
A moment later her feet pounded the plush cream carpeted stairs, leaving me alone with my thoughts, but I couldn't shake the knowledge that she was setting herself up for hurt. If not now, then later. Unless he was a crooked cop, and that was still a shitful idea.
Yanking my phone from my pocket, I typed out a quick message and sent it with lacrosse sticks, hearts and ice cream emojis.
Me: Call me and I’ll rescue you, princess.
Her sniffle was audible from the kitchen.
I did the best thing I could and vacated her bedroom so she could get herself cleaned up and changed, even if I flat out fucking hated the idea.
Her footsteps thundered the stairs as I made my way to the gym in the garage. Three little dots wavered on my screen.
Bay: I’m not a damsel in distress. I can wield a sword with the best of them, remember?
I grinned; we went to a mediaeval festival in our first year and Bay managed to unhorse a knight with a jousting stick she’d never held before and then banged his armor in with a broadsword she could barely lift.
Me: I remember. Watch your six, honeybuns. One phone call.
My phone stayed silent after that. I waited, my ass pressed to the bench, but the three dots never reappeared.
Either she was getting dressed, or was seriously shitty with me for pushing her.
Maybe I should have kept my opinion to myself, but we backed each other in everything.
Just because Bay didn’t want to hear what I had to say didn’t mean I shouldn’t fill in the gaping holes in her logic when she couldn’t seem to see them.
I pried my numb ass from the gym once sweat poured along my spine, an apology on my lips. I was just in time for a gust from the front door to hit me as it slammed, her car starting in record time. “Fuck.”
Something hissed upstairs. It didn’t take two guesses to know it was the tape I’d wrapped around the leak that had failed. Water dripped on my head from the ceiling above.
“Double fuck.”
I stalked for my took kit. Guess I was staying home anyway.