Chapter 47 #2
I was freaking her out. It was working—my plan, I mean. And yet…she wasn’t running. Why the hell wasn’t she running ? I needed her gone before I did something stupid—like fall to my knees and beg her to let me worship her…or beg her to touch me.
“Hm, it does,” I drawled, leaning in closer, close enough that my breath stirred the fine hairs at her temple. “I’m really fucking hard because of you, Hailstorm. Wanna check how hard?”
The words were crude, deliberately vulgar, designed to shock her into stepping back, into remembering all the reasons she’d told me to leave her alone.
I was counting on her ice-cold composure, on that armor of indifference she wore like a second skin.
Counting on her to retreat behind those walls she’d spent years perfecting.
I watched her expression shift, those expressive eyes darkening at my words.
Ah, yes. She looked magnificent when she was angry, all sharp edges and velvet violence, and my body responded to her fury like it was foreplay. But the thing propelling me now was desperate and reckless past any semblance of courtesy. And I’d just crossed that line.
This was it. This was where she’d slap me, or curse me out, or storm away in disgust. But Hailey Baleman had never followed my script. Not once in two years.
And even now, she did the one thing I never, ever expected. She looked me dead in the eye, and said the one word that pretty much broke my brain:
“Yeah.”
Ye—Huh? I barely had time to register the shock of her response, my eyes widening as my brain scrambled to process what she’d just said, before her fingers were curling around the hard length of my cock through the thin fabric of my boxers.
The moment her fingers closed around me, my universe collapsed to that single point of contact. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, the sound merging with the static in my brain.
“ Fuck , Hailey,” I growled, sensation exploding through my nervous system like a live wire touching water.
My hands shot out to brace against the lockers on either side of her head, caging her in.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?
” The words scraped out of my throat, barely recognizable as my own voice.
“Checking,” she replied simply, and I knew I’d chosen the wrong route the very moment I’d conceived this damn plan in my head. Hailey Baleman had never been one to back down from a challenge, after all.
“Shit.” The curse was all breath as a vicious shudder wracked through me. I pressed my forehead against the wall beside her head, unwilling to look at her, knowing I’d completely shatter if I did.
I bit down hard on my bottom lip, tasting copper as I tried to keep from humping her hand like some desperate teenager.
The effort left me trembling, every muscle in my body coiled tight as a spring.
My breathing was ragged, each inhale a conscious struggle as I fought to dredge up all the strength I had so I could push her away.
“Hailey, get your hand off my—” I tried to bite the words out, I really did, but then she squeezed .
Just a gentle, reflexive tightening of her fingers around my cock as if she couldn’t control herself, and the sensation shot through me like lightning, white-hot and overwhelming, making my vision go dark at the edges as a groan tore itself from my throat.
“Seriously, Hailey,” I panted against the wall, fighting for control with everything I had. My cock pulsed against her palm, already embarrassingly close. Two strokes and I’d be done. Two fucking strokes . “You need to stop.”
But she didn’t. Her thumb traced over the head through the fabric, finding the soaked spot where I was already leaking pre-cum like a goddamn tap.
“Why?” she asked, that singular word coming out in a voice threaded with glass filaments.
“Goddamnit, Hailey, please !” I choked out, the cords of my neck no doubt standing out in bold relief.
I didn’t know what the hell it was I was begging for, at this point—for her to stop, for her to never stop?
I really didn’t fucking know, but what I did know was that it was too much .
The pressure in my abdomen was building with terrifying speed, feverish and uncontrollable.
Years of wanting condensed into this single moment, her touch unraveling me with devastating efficiency.
“Look at me,” she demanded, her voice rougher than I’d ever heard it.
And because I could never deny her anything, even now, I forced my eyes open and pulled back, meeting her gaze with raw, naked vulnerability that terrified me.
What I saw there—heat, determination, and something deeper I didn’t dare name—made my chest cavity feel simultaneously too small and hollowed out.
“You kissed me last night. Isn’t this…Don’t you…want this?” Now, her voice was uncertain in a way that made my heart tremble.
Why…Why was she asking me that right now ? God, did she think I had even an iota of rational thought left in my head? My sanity was currently being held together by one goddamn brain cell, and it was horny as fuck.
But my mouth was moving even if it didn’t check in with my brain first.
“ Want this ?” I echoed, my voice rough with that very want. “Damn it, Hailey, I’ve wanted you to notice me…to touch me for two years, but not…not like this.”
Those eyes held my gaze as her lips parted, an edge in her tone I couldn’t decipher as she asked, “And what…what is this?”
“Pity.” The word scraped out of me, jagged and desperate. “Right? Because I told you I loved you? Because…because of what happened last night…with…with my—?”
Her eyes flashed with icy fury in the same instant her grip tightened, a punishing vice that made my thoughts scatter like startled birds, leaving me grasping at fragments.
“Does this feel like pity to you?” she asked, her eyes never leaving mine, holding me captive as effectively as her hand around my cock.
Ohh shit. No. No, it did not. What it did feel like, though, was amazing . So amazing, in fact, that my balls drew up with vicious intent. Shit .
“Hailey, wait. Seriously, I don’t—can’t—” I tried to warn her, tried to pull back, but her free hand fisted in my hair, holding me in place and pulling so hard at the roots that my cock twitched in pure ecstasy at the brief flash of pain.
“No. Don’t run away,” she whispered against my ear, her breath hot and damp against my skin. “ Stay .”
That command dressed as a plea, paired with her tight grip in my hair and another deliberate stroke of her hand, demolished the last fragments of my control. My hips bucked, my body arching like I’d been electrocuted.
“Fuck, fuck, Hail —” The words fragmented into a groan, my cock pulsing against her palm as I came in violent, humiliating spurts that soaked through the thin fabric of my boxers and spilled over her fingers in hot, thick waves.
The world whited out for several heartbeats, pleasure—so intense it bordered on pain—ripped through me, leaving me shattered and gasping.
I pressed my forehead hard against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as I rode out the most intense orgasm of my life in the hand of the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted.
And then, as the final tremors subsided, reality crashed back in with brutal clarity: there I was, braced against the wall, my release cooling sticky and mortifying and so fucking messy between us.
The horror of what I’d done flooded through me, scalding and absolute: I’d just come a whole damn load in her hand.
More than a load, in fact. If I’d doubted if any of this was real before, I couldn’t deny it now as I took in the sight of her—frozen in place, her hand still outstretched, with the wet evidence of my complete lack of control dripping from her fingers.
Her eyes were wide, pupils blown, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. She looked stunned, and I couldn’t blame her. This was beyond humiliating—it was mortifying …on a cosmic scale.
“Oh God.” I croaked as I stumbled backward, covering my eyes with my hand. Shame burned through me, hot and caustic, scorching away the last vestiges of pleasure.
What the hell have I done?