Chapter 1 #2
“I do jiu-jitsu in my free time. For self-defense. This position is called back. And you took it so good.”
He nips at my ear, and I thrust my body, trying to buck him off, but his legs are wound tightly around me, and I can’t dislodge him.
He’s right. I may be bigger, but he can take me.
Damn him and his martial arts skills.
I shift again and feel his feet right at my groin, the heel of his shoes against my cock. When he rubs against it, I feel it perk up.
I blame it on the fact that it’s been a while. I’m not a slut like him. I don’t just sleep with every woman I see. And yeah, I may have been dating Xochitl, but we didn’t fuck. We only kissed and never went past first base. Maybe that’s why she left me. Maybe she wanted more…
His arm tightens around my neck, and my back arches.
“Are you going to be a good boy if I let you up?” His lips brush my earlobe as he asks, and it makes my skin erupt in goosebumps.
“Fuck you,” I manage to say, and he huffs a laugh.
“I mean, let’s be real. If I were into men, I’d be the one fucking that ass.”
My skin flames, and I try to arch out of his hold, but he only grips me tighter, making it hard to breathe, harder to stay calm.
And what’s worse is my dick is hardening, and I’m going into a mild panic that he’ll notice. That he’ll think he’s proven himself right.
I’m not attracted to men. Or to him. I’m not. It’s just…fuck. Fuck. This.
His foot presses against my groin once more, and in turn, I let out a humiliating groan.
He freezes, and then his foot presses against it again.
“What’s that?” he says curiously. “You hard, Witkoff?”
“Let me go,” I wheeze, my fingers attempting to get his arm from around my neck, but to no avail. He’s got me and he’s got me good.
“You said you weren’t into guys. So maybe you’re just into being restrained.”
He touches my dick again, this time with his calf, and I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. It doesn’t feel good. It doesn’t.
“You like this. Ha. I fucking knew it. The way you watch me. I see you, Witkoff, and I know you’re a fucking liar.”
I grunt and buck, but he only clings tighter.
“I’m not a liar.”
His tongue drags across my neck, and I shiver, his words hitting me like a whip.
“I know how you perceive yourself. I’ve been around men like you my entire life.
Big man on campus, thinking you’re better than everyone else because you’re so fucking pure and righteous, but you’re just a horny slut who needs to get off. ”
The hand that’s clutching the back of my head snakes down my chest and stomach, and I feel my muscles tighten under his palm.
“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he growls, his fingers sliding under the elastic waist of my workout shorts.
I plan on telling him to get his hands off me. I do, but everything is hazy, and my words are lost in my throat. I can’t get them out. They’re stuck.
He lets out a soft, knowing chuckle as his hand wraps around my bare cock and strokes.
“Knew it.”
And then he works me, those long fingers tight around my shaft. I just lie there in the dirt, taking it, listening to the puffs of his breath against my ear and the horrifying moans coming from my mouth.
He twists and squeezes, his mouth moving across my neck and cheek as he does, wetting me, making me spit slick. It’s an assault on my senses. Everything about him is just fucking too much.
When I come, I shudder and shake so hard that my teeth rattle. My eyes roll back in my head as my cock explodes right into my shorts, my orgasm long and drawn out.
Disgustingly so. There’s no hiding how much I enjoyed it. Anyone within a mile radius could hear me begging for it.
Colton doesn’t stop his assault on me. He just keeps going until I’m wrung dry, my body limp in his arms. It’s only when I’m sagging against him, panting, that he finally lets me go, his body slowly unwinding from mine.
I blink up at the branches above us and see him squatting and looking down at me, his lips tilted up in a mocking smile.
“That won’t happen again. So, don’t come knocking.”
And with that, he hops onto his feet and strides away, leaving me alone to wonder what the fuck just happened and why I let it go that far.
Eventually, I pull myself together, and as I make my way back to the frat house, my shorts full of cum, my head spinning, I realize I have no fucking idea.
I’ve lost my goddamn mind.
After arriving home a half an hour later, I realized my lucky coin was gone. It must have slipped out while I was wrestling with Colton and when he was giving me a hand—yeah, not going there.
I’m pretending it didn’t happen.
Mostly.
I might have jerked off to the thought of it in the shower before bed, but nothing more. I’ve put it out of my mind. It’s in a little box. In the corner and under a rug.
Even so, the following day, I end up at the frat house, scouring the forest floor, looking for my coin. Being here brings back memories, ones that linger from the night before, no matter how far back in my mind I shove them.
His hand around my cock, his breath in my ear.
The way I moaned.
Fuck. I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. That’s not how this works, apparently.
The whole thing is entirely horrifying, and while I bend down to push leaves aside, I find my cock is half hard thinking about him.
“What are you looking for?” someone asks, and I jerk upright, my breath coming out in a squeak.
“Shit. You scared me.”
“Sorry,” the guy says, his hair slightly askew, his eyebrow arching. “I live here. What are you looking for?”
“Just lost something here the other night. A lucky coin.”
He huffs a laugh and then moves toward me. “Like finding a needle in a haystack. I once lost an entire shoe out here. Never found it. This place is wild.”
“Shit.”
He laughs, fiddling with something in his hand. Is that a knitted octopus Wooble? “Yeah. Name’s Ferris by the way.”
“Cool. Nice to meet you. I’m Myles.”
He doesn’t seem to recognize me, which is fine. I’d rather not talk sports right now. I just want to find my coin and escape without Colton seeing me. I don’t want him to think I’m back to ask for a second round.
Ferris and I shake hands, and then he glances around and sighs.
“Any idea of where you may have lost it?”
“Uh, well, I was over here with Colton.”
Ferris’s eyebrows rise. “Colton Cavanaugh? Shit, you sure he didn’t steal it?”
My heart skips a beat, and I grow slightly warm. “Why would he do that?”
“He has a rep for doing that. A bit of a pickpocket.”
My cheeks flush, and I narrow my gaze.
“God fucking dammit.”
“Might want to ask him if he has it first. I bet that’s where it ended up. He can’t help himself.”
I glance at the house in the distance, and my shoulders bunch around my ears.
“Can I just go on in?”
“Yeah. No one cares.”
“You sure?”
“Totally.”
His hand reaches out, and he hands me the octopus. “I—uh, well, I crocheted this, and I feel like you need it. It’s an octopus.”
“I figured, with all the tentacles sticking out,” I say as I wrap one of the tentacles around my knuckle. “It’s cool.”
“It’s a nervous hobby.”
“It’s a good hobby to have. You could be, like, cooking meth or something instead.”
He stares at the octopus in my hand and arches an eyebrow. “I guess that’s an option. I just would rather work with yarn and not chemicals, you know?”
“Yeah. I do.”
He shifts on his feet and then sighs. “Why don’t you go ask Colton if he’s taken your coin, and I’ll stay out here and look around a bit more? I’ll holler if I find something.”
I thank him for being so helpful and stalk out of the woods. My feet crunch on the gravel as I move toward the front porch, my mind whirling. If the coin isn’t in the woods, Colton must have grabbed it while he was getting me off.
My hands ball into fists as I consider it. I don’t even knock on the front door, just let myself in. Ferris said it wouldn’t matter, and I know they must keep their door unlocked, judging by the steady stream of people—mostly girls—moving in and out of the house.
And I’m right.
No one even bats an eyelid when I pass through the kitchen, just like Ferris said. I even ask one of the guys sitting on the couch which room is Colton’s. He just points upstairs and grunts that it’s the one with the jockstrap on the door handle.
That makes my blood boil. He really is the biggest fucking shithead.
I stomp up the steps, taking them two at a time, not even breaking a sweat until I stop right in front of his door and realize my breathing is labored.
Fuck him for making me like this.
I’ve never had this issue before.
I’m kind and stable. I don’t rush to conclusions. I don’t blame other people.
But I’m about to blame him.
I raise my hand to knock, but decide against it, pushing the door open without warning. I want to throw him off his game. I want to make him nervous. But when I step inside, he’s not there.
So fucking typical. Maybe if I had my coin, I’d have gotten lucky. Maybe he’d be here.
My hand runs through my hair as I look around, taking in the crumpled bedsheets, the trophies sitting on a shelf on the opposite side of the room, and a large framed picture of Colton painted in neon orange and pink hanging on the wall.
Of fucking course, he has a picture of himself on the wall of his room.
He can’t get enough of himself.
I bet he jerks off to it nightly.
As I take a step closer, I hear a small chuckle behind me. My gaze turns over my shoulder, and I see Colton standing there, a towel in his hand, the rest of him completely naked.
“Couldn’t stay away, could you?”
He rubs that towel over his damp chest, his soft dick swinging between his legs.
I swallow and turn to face him completely, making sure to meet his stare.
“You stole something from me, and I want it back.”
His hand twitches slightly, and his lips turn up. “That so? And what would that be?”
“My coin. It was in my pocket when—” My words stop, and Colton’s grin widens.
“When I got you off? How about you just call it what it was?”