15. Hayden
HAYDEN
M y fingers twitch, and I let them drift under the table, finding the bare skin of Madison’s knee.
She jerks slightly at the contact, her body stiffening, but I don’t stop. My fingers press into the soft flesh of her inner thigh, slow and deliberate, until I feel her relax.
I smirk, satisfied. She can fight this all she wants, but it won’t change anything. She belongs to me.
I glance down, letting my fingers trace small circles against her leg, and my thoughts drift. Her skin is so soft, impossibly smooth, and all I can think about is how much softer she feels somewhere else.
My mouth practically waters at the thought of pulling her panties aside, tasting her until she comes over and over. I can still remember how sweet she was, the way her body reacted to me like I was the only thing she would ever need.
I want to crawl under this table, strip her bare, and make her mine right here and now. The need to see her writhing in pleasure, to feel her come undone around me, is overwhelming.
I know I can’t, but that doesn’t stop the frustration from simmering just beneath the surface, though.
My hand slides higher, my fingertips brushing the edge of her silky panties. I know which ones these are without seeing them. I picked every pair out carefully and they’re all burned into my memory. Madison shifts suddenly, placing her hand over mine to stop me from doing what she knows I want to.
Her touch is firm, her fingers cool against my warm skin, and when I glance up at her, her eyes are wide like she can’t believe I’d risk pushing my fingers inside her at a table full of people.
I smirk again, letting my fingers curl, pressing into her skin just slightly before pulling back.
Not yet, princess. But soon.
I can’t stop glowering at her. She doesn’t seem to notice, but in my mind, she belongs to me. Every single part of her. That means her lips, her fucking soul, her scent, and her pussy. All of it is mine.
I know she’s tight, and I know I have to be careful with her, but it gets more difficult to hold back every passing day. Her thighs clench when I touch her, and her breath catches like she’s holding back something I want to drag out of her.
Madison leans in suddenly, her soft scent wrapping around me like a drug. My heart thunders in my chest, and my cock twitches painfully in my pants.
“Behave,” she whispers, her voice low enough that no one else can hear, “someone’s going to see you.”
I lean closer, my mouth hovering dangerously close to hers, and smirk. “I don’t give a fuck.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, the flush creeping up her neck like a silent surrender.
In reality, I do care. Not because I’m worried about being caught. I couldn’t give a shit about anyone else here. It’s because I don’t want anyone else witnessing her in a moment of pleasure. That’s mine. Her parted lips, soft whimpers, and flushed cheeks, those are for my eyes only.
Before I can push further, Kirsten’s friend Bethany and her fucking irritating voice cuts through our moment. I cross the street to the other side of the road when I see her on campus because I can’t stand her, so I’ve been able to avoid her since that annoying interaction at my mother’s vigil. Why Kirsten insisted on inviting her is beyond me, but they’re both moving up my list as soon as I get home.
“You two seem close,” Bethany says, the tightness in her tone giving away the jealousy she’s trying to hide. “Are you, like, together?”
Madison opens her mouth, but before she can deny it, I snap, “Yes.” I see my father’s head jerk toward me and I know he’s overheard our conversation, but I truly don’t give a fuck. At least Madison’s mother is chattering to the server. I don’t need to deal with her playing the victim because she can’t stand anyone stealing her spotlight.
My tone is sharp and final, the kind that doesn’t invite questions. But Bethany doesn’t seem to get the hint, her gaze flicking between Madison and me like she’s waiting for more.
Kirsten snickers, clearly enjoying the tension. I don’t know why she plays with me. She knows I’ll flip this goddamn table. “In his head, they’re together. But he’s still trying to convince her, isn’t that right, Madison?”
Madison doesn’t answer. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, and I notice her mother reach for her wine glass, downing the contents faster than she probably intended.
I rub a hand over my face, trying to block out the chatter, but Bethany’s grating voice pipes up again. Looking at me, she asks, “Is it weird because your other set of parents were having the affair, or is it because she’s poor? I mean, that’s not really your vibe.”
The words hit like a slap, but not to me, but to Madison. I can see it in the way her shoulders tense, the way her face stays carefully blank even though I know she’s hurt.
My head snaps toward Bethany before I can think better of it. I’m so angry, I’m surprised it doesn’t swivel on my neck like The Exorcist.
“My vibe?” I say, my voice higher and louder than normal. She wants to try and humiliate Madison? I’ll embarrass the fuck out of her to the point she’ll never recover. I’m about to start fucking screaming if I have to spend one more minute with these pretentious, annoying people. “I don’t have a vibe, except ignoring a bunch of whores like you who like my last name and what comes with it.”
The entire table falls silent.
Bethany’s face pales, and she shifts awkwardly, trying to avoid my glare.
“Apologize to Madison,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Bethany stammers out an apology, but I don’t care. I’m already riled up, and someone is going to feel my wrath. My focus shifts back to Madison, who looks embarrassed but keeps her chin high. She nods politely at Bethany’s words but doesn’t bother to say anything in return.
They’re saved by two runners walking up with the food, interrupting the awkward silence I caused. Dinner is served, and the table erupts into chatter again. My father and Madison’s mother talk quietly on one end, Kirsten throws in her usual snide comments, and Bethany stays uncharacteristically quiet.
Halfway through the meal, I glance over at Madison’s plate and notice she’s pushing what’s left of her food around. She’s in her head, and that won’t do at all.
I let my hand drift back under the table, resting on her bare knee. She stiffens at first, but when my fingers press against the soft flesh of her thigh, she relaxes. This time, she doesn’t stop me.
I lean in close, speaking quietly enough that only she can hear. “What’s bothering you?”
Her head snaps toward me, her eyes narrowing. “What do you?—”
I chuckle softly, cutting her off. “I’ve memorized every expression your face can make, and this one tells me you’re thinking about something that has you worried. If it’s that letter, I’m going to take care of it. By the way you relaxed when my fingers dug into your skin, I know it’s not me.”
She hesitates, her gaze flicking away as she exhales softly. “The note was just creepy,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “Whoever it was, they were right outside my door while we were there. And um…” She looks away like she’s nervous to tell me whatever is bothering her.
“Look at me. You can tell me anything and I’ll fix it,” I tell her honestly and I’m pleasantly surprised when she does shift her eyes toward me.
“I’ll tell, but you’ve gotta keep your cool.” I frown because I don’t possess a single ounce of that, but I want to hear what she has to say so I nod, agreeing. Kind of. Depending on what it is, really. “That note wasn’t the first thing that’s happened.” I haven’t heard what else happened, and I don’t need to. I’m ready to flip every table in this bitch and head back to campus to start ruining lives. Madison must see that, because she reaches over to cover my hand with hers under the table. Surprisingly, the gesture does wonders to soothe some of the rage running through me.
“What happened?” I try not to sound like I’m snapping, but the letter was bad enough.
“The day you beat up Dawson Meyers…” she quirks an eyebrow at me, pausing as if to tell me to wipe the sour expression off of my face. I don’t like the sound of another guy’s name on her lips, so she’s just going to have to let me brood. “It was earlier, before the fight during practice. I thought it was a sick joke from someone that doesn’t like the fact that I’m at Castlebrook and clearly don’t belong.” She lifts her hand from mine, and that makes me even more annoyed, but I don’t snatch her hand back because she’s reaching for her little purse thing that doesn’t look big enough to hold more than the phone that’s inside it.
She hands it to me, showing me the gruesome text from an unknown number. I’m powering up with so much rage at the fucking audacity of someone trying to scare my girl, that I could burn the whole world down and it still wouldn’t be enough.
“Has there been anything else? Anything at all?” I reach over, brushing a soft blonde wave off of her bare shoulder, not caring if anyone in this damn restaurant sees me. Madison is mine to take care of and no one will stop me. “I need you to tell me these things.”
Madison tries to hold in a laugh and ends up snorting which is the cutest fucking thing. “Yes, Hayden, because if I had told you about this while you were in the middle of beating someone half to death for touching me, I’m sure you would have taken it very well and been calm the whole time.” The sarcasm practically drips off her tongue and I have no way to refute her statement because she’s not exaggerating even a little bit.
I need to stay level-headed because now there’s three separate incidents of someone fucking with us. I’ll get to the bottom of it, and when I do, everyone involved is going to lose their fucking lives.
My chest tightens, my possessiveness surging to the surface. The thought of her being in her room alone with all this shit going on is not an option. “I’m asking you politely and nicely, to please stay at my house tonight,” I say firmly. “Between Callum, Tristan and me, it’s the safest place for you to be.”
Madison shakes her head, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Nice try, but I got roped into a sleepover at your dad’s house with your sister and my biggest fan.” Madison nods toward Bethany and bites her bottom lip like she’s dreading it. “Mom wants us to make the wedding favors for the party.” It’s not what I wanted, but at least it’s off campus and I can easily keep any eye on her there.
I wrinkle my nose, the distaste clear on my face. “That’s the same look your dad made when my mom said she wanted them handmade by her two daughters.” Madison rolls her eyes at her mother’s antics. “I don’t think her and Kirsten really like each other.”
I glance toward the other end of the table, glaring at our parents before turning my attention back to Madison. “You and everyone else can try to make this whole stepsibling thing really weird, but I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine. You have been since I followed you into those woods.”
Her gasp is soft, almost inaudible, but the way her lips part tells me I’ve struck a nerve. I’m still pissed about that text, but not enough to forget how much I’ve wanted to touch her all night. My hand slides further up her thigh, and this time, she doesn’t push me away.
I lean in again, my lips close to her ear. “Will you come to my game tomorrow night?”
Her breath hitches, and she shakes her head. “That didn’t end well the last time,” she murmurs.
I smirk, letting my fingers drift higher. “I think you meant to say it ended amazing, with you coming all over my tongue.”
Her cheeks flush, and when my fingers brush against the sheer crotch of her panties, my cock hardens instantly. Fuck, I can feel how hot and wet she is.
I want to see them. I want to pull them off with my teeth and spend the whole night just exploring every inch of her.
She tries to push my hand away this time, but I don’t let her. My fingers tease her gently, rubbing her through the thin fabric.
I keep my movements subtle, discreet, but when I glance at her face, I can see it, the way her lips part slightly, the way her breathing quickens.
She doesn’t want me to stop, and I won’t disappoint her. My finger nudges against the entrance to my own personal nirvana, and I nearly lose it. She’s tight. So tight that I have to fight back a groan as her body clenches around me. My cock throbs at the thought of what it would feel like to slide inside her, to be surrounded by all that wet heat.
Her thighs tense against my hand, and I shift my fingers to her clit. I’ve got it in my head that my dick needs to be the first thing to make her cry out, and subconsciously I know if I gave in and plunged my fingers inside of her, she won’t be able to stay silent. I will have to use my dinner knife on every guy’s ears close enough to hear if that happens. She jerks slightly, her lips parting in a silent gasp, and it’s all I can do to keep myself under control. I fucking want her on such a primal level that it’s as if I was born, put on this planet, to please her.
“I want to be alone with you, princess,” I murmur low enough that only she can hear. My voice comes out rough, edged with need, but quiet enough not to alert anyone chatting at our table. “I know the noises you’re pushing down would sound so sweet.”
In my mind, I can already hear how sweet it will be. It would be soft, desperate sounds she’d make if I had her to myself right now. Just the thought of her moaning, of her falling apart for me, is enough to make my cock twitch painfully against my pants. Fuck, if she made even the faintest sound right now, I’d probably come all over myself again. I’m going to have to jerk off several times before I even dare pushing my cock inside of her. I’ll come instantly, and I’m not ashamed of that. She’s that fucking good.
Her breathing hitches, her eyes darting nervously toward the others at the table. They’re all caught up in their conversations, oblivious. I press my thumb against her clit, rubbing small, deliberate circles, and watch as her body shudders slightly. Her lips part, her face softening for a brief moment before she catches herself, clenching her jaw to hold it all in.
“Come to my game,” I murmur, my voice thick with intention. This is probably the only way I’m going to get a yes, and I desperately want a yes from my girl. I want her front row, her eyes glued to me the entire game.
She doesn’t answer, so I ease my hand away, letting my touch disappear just enough to leave her craving it.
“I guess you don’t want to come,” I tease, and I’m pretty proud of my little play on words.
Her eyes snap to mine, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming faster now. “Please,” she whispers, so quiet it’s almost lost in the hum of the restaurant. “Hayden.”
Hearing my name fall from her lips nearly breaks me. She’s my princess. I want to give her everything but I can’t make this too easy. I’m leaning just close enough that my lips almost brush her ear. “Say you’ll come to my game.”
She rolls her eyes, but the slight tilt of her hips toward my hand gives her away. “Fine,” she says, her voice clipped, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes that resembles anticipation.
I don’t waste a second. My hand moves back to her, my fingers sliding beneath the softness of her panties as I find her clit again. She’s soaked, and it sends a jolt of satisfaction through me to know I’ve done this to her, that she’s wet for me.
She bites her lip hard, her thighs pressing together as if to keep me from pulling my hand away again. I watch her face, the way she’s fighting so hard not to make a sound. I rub her clit slowly, deliberately, watching as her body jerks slightly under my touch. My gaze flicks to her lips, parted and trembling, and I let my hand linger, teasing her just enough to keep her on edge before I pick up speed. It doesn’t take but a few flicks of my fingers to have her eyes fluttering shut and I feel the rush of wetness coat my fingers. Even though I’m not inside of her, I can feel her pussy contracting. The thought of how she’ll feel, milking my cock dry sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my dick.
The need to taste her is too strong, and I pull my hand away, bringing my fingers to my lips. I lick them slowly, savoring her taste because she’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life.
Her eyes widen, her face going the prettiest shade of pink. For the first time all night, she doesn’t look stressed. That tightness in her shoulders, that flicker of worry in her eyes, it’s gone.
I slide my fingers back up her thigh, my touch lingering just enough to remind her what I want. “You’ll come to my game, and you’ll wear my number,” I murmur, my voice steady.
Her breath catches, and I see the flicker of a challenge in her eyes. She doesn’t say anything, just presses her lips together, until I hear the five most glorious words in the fucking dictionary. “I’ll come to your game.”