18. Mayson
Mayson
W hen I finally emerge from the bathtub, my fingers are wrinkled and the water is cold. I manage to get dressed and climb into bed. Another night passes where Colin doesn’t make another appearance, and I wonder if him coming into the bathroom was really just a dream.
The next morning, when I get downstairs, I’m greeted by him in the kitchen.
The sight has me stopping in my tracks. He’s cooking wearing only sweatpants and a cut off shirt that shows the bottom part of his back.
When he turns around to face me the glimpse of his abs is mouthwatering.
So much so I’m questioning my entire existence.
He shouldn’t be allowed to look this good. His muscled frame in just pieces of fabric, but looking so obscene makes me want to scream.
“Good morning,” he greets with a smirk, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Where’s the rest of your shirt?” I ask, trying to divert and hide how hot I find it .
He just shrugs, shaking his protein shake. The way his muscles bulge with the action has me rolling my eyes, if only to look away for a second and try to regain my composure.
I continue to avoid eye contact with him as I go up to the coffee machine he finally put back for me.
Even as the drink brews, I refuse to look at him.
Which is getting more and more difficult as I feel his eyes on me.
I do my best to act unaffected by him, his proximity, and the tension that’s constantly surrounding us.
When I feel his heat at my back, I stand up straighter. Then his weight is pressing me against the counter and I bite back a small gasp. I try to keep my hand steady as I pour the coffee into my mug, and I’m impressed with myself that I manage not to spill anything.
Until he presses completely against me, the counter digging into my hips while I feel how hard he is against my ass. His lips are against my ear and I freeze. “Do you wish I touched you last night?”
“No,” I lie.
“You sure about that?” His hand grips my hip, and starts to move along my waistband, dipping inside just barely.
“Yes,” I squeak.
“What about right now? Do you want me to touch you?” He asks. His hand moves lower, cupping me and I feel the rumble from his groan as his mouth grazes my neck. I hardly even notice the way I’m leaning into him.
“N-no,” I stutter, even as I press myself into him even more.
“No?”
“Mhm,” I hum because my body is reacting in one way, but my mouth keeps saying what I should be saying.
He runs his mouth along the side of my throat, and I lean back against him even more. My hips buck against his hand as he presses the tip of a finger against my entrance and I moan, gripping the edge of the counter tightly.
“Do you want more? I know you do, but I want to hear you beg for it.”
My mouth opens, but no sound comes out and he pushes his finger into me just barely and I gasp, holding onto the counter even more because I feel like if I don’t I’m going to collapse.
“Beg,” he growls against my ear, thrusting the tip of his finger in and out, but it’s not enough. I want more, but can’t get any words to come out.
I rub myself against him even more, still unable to speak.
“If you don’t want it, that’s fine.” His teeth nip my earlobe and I lean into him even more. Then he’s removing his hand from me and I let out a silent protest, catching myself on the counter.
I turn around to glare at him, doing my best to steady my breathing and not show how affected I am. Just as I do, he puts his middle finger up, and wraps his lips around the tip I know was just inside me.
“Can’t wait to taste more of you again.” He takes his protein shake and walks away. “Have a shitty day, sis.”
I continue to stand in the middle of the kitchen, catching my breath, too wet for my own good and it’s all because of him. I should follow him just to punch him in the face, but I know that’s not what I would end up doing and I need to leave this house as soon as possible.
Abandoning my coffee, I debate leaving the house in my pajamas, but I know it’ll be too cold so I quickly run to my room to change and race out of the house.
Once I’m outside I feel like I can breathe for the first time. The house is stifling with the sexual energy in the air and I need reprieve. My class doesn’t start for another hour, so I go to the café by campus to get myself a coffee since mine was rudely interrupted.
When I’m waiting for my drink my phone goes off, and when I see who texted me, I glare at my screen.
Colin
Just say the word and you can have my cock again, babe.
I grimace, locking and putting my phone back in my pocket. I may turn into an idiot around him, but I’m going to stay strong, and things won’t go as far as they have ever again. Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I’ll believe it.
Before practice, we’re all in the locker room getting changed and it seems like everyone is in a mood. I don’t know if it has to do with the Rites, our upcoming game, or just general school stress.
Blake is next to me, and nudges my shoulder. “How’s it going with you? I feel like we’ve hardly talked.”
“I know, I don’t like it.” I shake my head. Since we lived together the last two years, not spending so much time together is weird for us.
“Are you liking your new roommate?” she goads.
I give her a look that I hope portrays, “what do you think?”
She chuckles and I shake my head.
“You know what he did this morning?” I ask. “I found him in the kitchen in a fucking crop top and sweatpants. How slutty is that?”
“I love a man in a crop top.”
Same.
“Give me a crop top and a slutty thigh tattoo on a man and it’s over,” our teammate Lucy adds. Unfortunately, my stepbrother has both.
It’s like a lightbulb goes off in my head and I smile over at Blake. “I have an idea.”
After quickly sharing my plan with my team before practice—and without our coach finding out—we have a very limited amount of time to get it done. Luckily, the guy’s locker room isn’t far from ours and no one should be in it for at least another 30 minutes after we’re done with practice.
We all skip out on our shower and rush over there as inconspicuously as possible.
In theory, it doesn’t sound that hard, but sneaking fifteen girls into the men’s locker room is actually a bit more difficult than it sounds.
Some of the girls on our team opted out of participating, and I think they aren’t targeted by anyone for the Rites. Lucky bitches.
Blake peeks in and signals that it’s clear for us to storm in. We only found a couple pairs of scissors, so we move quickly to cut into their shirts, and rip them the rest of the way. We work quickly, tossing the shirts into lockers they never lock when we’re done.
After we’re all done we leave as quickly as possible. I head back to our own locker room with a few of my teammates to shower because I want to stick around to watch how this is about to turn out.
“Are you going to watch?” I ask Blake.
“Of course I am.” She smirks and I can see that she’s about to get the same pleasure of watching as I am.
“Me too!” Chelsey shouts excitedly.
“Yeah, I’m here for them playing practically shirtless,” Anja adds.
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” Maeghen joins.
I already know this is going to be fun.