26. LOGAN
26
LOGAN
Kicking back on the bed—the one I’m not supposed to be sleeping in, according to my stepbrother—a smile creeps across my lips. Jaxon wants to duke it out? We can do that. My chest puffs with pride. With him, the only way I figure I have a shot at fighting the wicked venom he spews at me is to come into the battle with the right ammunition. And this time? It was simply catching him off guard with the suggestion I’d jerk off on him in the shower. The look on his face— I snort aloud, shaking my head.
My mind replays his unamused words. “Did you not hear me the first time? Get the fuck out.” Those dark eyes of his had bored into me, and I’d felt them all the way to my soul. He sure hadn’t liked it that I’d laughed, but I also caught a hint of begrudging respect in his eye. The sooner he gets it through his head that he can’t push me around anymore, the better off we’ll be. Besides, I’m in a fucking mood, not that he gets to be privy to why. It has nothing to do with him or baseball… and everything to do with why Rya hasn’t texted me back at all today.
The shower cuts off a moment later, and I decide I’m not going to fucking pretend to be asleep. I’m simply going to relax here and scroll through social media. If he chooses to make a big deal out of our sleeping arrangements, then I’ll deal with whatever the fucker doles out.
With a soft click, the door to the bathroom opens, and steam billows out. Jaxon emerges, a towel slung low around his hips. I blink as I’m accosted by damp skin, that tattoo I have yet to get a close enough look at, and an indecent bulge under the towel. It shouldn’t bother me to see him half-naked. We’re in various states of undress in the locker room all the time. And considering he’d butted in front of me without taking a damn thing into the bathroom with him, I don’t have a fucking clue why I didn’t expect this. What was he going to do, put dirty clothes back on after his shower? I look away, but only for a second before my eyes divert right back to his well-muscled frame. That fucking towel. It’s losing a battle with gravity, and I’m not at all disappointed. Its steady descent unveils more and more of the fine trail of hair on his lower abdomen with every millimeter it slips .
A battle rages and burns in my mind, sizzling through me as memories of being with Rya last night flash before my eyes only to become interspersed with disturbing curiosity about my stepbrother. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Jaxon shoots me a dirty look but doesn’t say a word before he turns and squats down to unzip his bag. Pulling out a pair of boxer briefs, he stands, facing away from me, pauses for only a second, then drops the towel.
My throat goes dry, and I somehow successfully avert my eyes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see his toned ass in my peripheral vision as he steps into his underwear and yanks them up. I’d be fucking lying if I said I was unaffected by him. Ever since the shower jerk-off escapade, he’s made a point of hanging around naked in the locker room. It’s on purpose. He’s always got his eye on me when he does it. Yet, there’s something distinctly more dangerous about being alone together, and not in a locker room full of our teammates.
I loathe myself for looking.
Jaxon turns around, skirting the edge of the bed, and climbs in on the other side. Oddly, he ignores me. But maybe the exertion of pitching today has finally taken the fight out of him. Thank fuck, if that’s the case.
A moment later, my phone flashes a warning that it’s at two percent battery power, so I get up to find my phone charger. Grabbing my bag, I set it on the small table at the far side of the room and am in the process of digging through it when the distinctive ring of a video call interrupts the quiet. My brows dart together. Who the fuck is Jaxon calling? Shifting just slightly, I glance back toward the bed, taking in his relaxed stance on the bed. He’s propped himself up on some pillows, an eager expression on his face that makes me ill at ease.
With his eyes trained on the screen, his lips tilt into an easy smile, the likes of which I’ve never seen before. Fuck no, tell me it’s not— But my fears are substantiated when his voice, smooth like warm honey, greets the person on the other end. “Hey, pretty girl.”
All the air in the room gets sucked out. Each breath becomes a challenge. No, no, no. My heart skids to a stop, and I stare dumbly at the charger in my hands while my worst nightmare begins to unfold behind me.
“Hi.” Rya’s voice filters through the phone speaker. My stomach lurches violently. There’s a faint buzzing in my ears as she continues, “I wasn’t sure if you were going to call.”
“Sorry, I know it’s later than I thought it would be. Coach has us in a hotel overnight to ride out this storm. But if I make you a promise, I’m going to keep it. Always.”
I sneak another peek over my shoulder. He’s gazing so solemnly at her that I almost believe him. Dick. What a liar. Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I exhale and pick up my phone with unsteady hands. Sure , he keeps his promises. Keeping a promise to be an asshole isn’t so hard. Jaw twitching, I locate a wall socket to plug the charger into, then connect my phone. I stand there, my head in a jumble. I sure as fuck don’t want to go sit next to him. I stare woodenly at my phone screen, because I need to get control over myself. I can’t believe she’s talking to him after what we shared last night. My chest tightens unbearably, dark spots appearing in my vision.
Not going to deny it—my heart is taking a beating right now. Irritation creeps in on stealthy feet as their amiable conversation continues. Fuck.
“Anyway, I definitely wanted to check on you after all that shit yesterday. How’s it looking over there? Your room still a wreck?”
“Not gonna lie. It’s pretty bad. They had us fill out paperwork to document the damage. They asked if anything was missing, but it was so bad, I couldn’t tell.”
“That totally sucks. I’m sorry I’m not there to help. And especially that I wasn’t around last night.” There’s an unusual-sounding intake of breath, then Jaxon finishes, “I was arguing with a pharmacy about Mom’s meds.”
“Oh no, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.” Her tone is gentle, just like I’d expect it to be… and the lack of surprise in her voice tells me they’ve spoken about this before .
The state of Macie’s health is a detail of Jaxon’s life he doesn’t share with just anyone. My insides twist. Just how close have they gotten since meeting at that damn frat party?
I suck in a breath as it registers I’ve missed some of what’s been said.
“How’d the game go?”
Pivoting ever so slightly, out of the corner of my eye, I catch the broad smile on Jaxon’s face before he answers. “Coach said he wanted a win for our first game, so he put me in to pitch. And”—the jackass draws it out, and Rya’s excited squeak comes through loud and clear before he finishes—“we won. It was a pretty epic start to the season.”
He has to know I’m fucking paying attention, and I’m certain he’s trying to needle me with his words. But whatever. I’d known I probably wouldn’t be starting tonight, so even though I’d held out hope, it wasn’t a surprise that Coach Kimball had chosen him over me. I grit my teeth. Especially since I haven’t had much of a chance to prove myself or make up for any of the bullshit that Coach is pissed about.
“Oh my god, Jaxon! That’s great. I’m happy for you.” After a notable pause, Rya’s voice floats into the room again. “Um. I take it that means Logan didn’t play?”
Jaxon wets his lips, his grin now stretching his face. “ Nah. He’ll pitch one of the next few games. We rotate. But he’s fine. He gets it.”
“Oh. Okay. That’s good, I guess.” I hear the indecision over what to say next in her voice, almost as if she knows damn well she shouldn’t be talking about me to Jaxon.
My eyes crash shut. Why is she doing this? A bitter taste hits the back of my throat. Did she only come to me because Jaxon wasn’t there? The idea that I was her second choice has me struggling to maintain my composure. I raggedly inhale, bringing one hand to my eyes as they close. My thumb and forefinger rub ineffectively over the lids as irrational, gut-wrenching thoughts spin through my mind that have my head beginning to pound.
Jaxon chuckles. “Coach actually put us in the same room for the night, if you can believe that.”
There’s dead silence on her end of the call for a count of three heavy beats of my swiftly breaking heart.
After an audible swallow, Rya hesitantly asks, “He’s there now?” The worry in her voice is palpable, and it’s doing a number on my stomach. A sense of betrayal washes over me.
Unable to stop myself, I fully turn, my blazing eyes connecting with Jaxon’s. His lips quirk. “He’s not here right now, no. He’s shooting the shit with some of our teammates next door.”
My brows shoot up on my forehead, and I fumble with my phone a second before tapping out a message to Jaxon and hitting send.
Is that how we’re playing this, asshole?
I don’t have a fucking clue if telling her I’ve been here this entire time listening to their conversation would be any better, honestly. Silently stewing, I stare at the screen. It hasn’t been more than five seconds when the message clicks over from Delivered to Read. Is he going to respond while he’s talking to her? A twitch of his lips gives me my answer. He hears me. And he doesn’t fucking care what I think.
The unrelenting pounding in my head is telling me to fight fire with fire. Two can for fucking sure play at whatever his game is. I grit my teeth, then blink, realizing I’ve missed more of their conversation.
“We won’t be back until sometime after lunch.” Jaxon casts a stealthy look in my direction. “If you’re not busy, we can meet after your last class.”
“Okay. That should work. So … five o’clock, maybe?”
Jaxon nods. “Yeah, sounds good.” He pauses, and I note that the expression on his face has changed, and I can’t quite read him.
Rya apparently doesn’t know what to make of it either. Quietly, she murmurs, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
There’s a hint of a smile on his lips as Jaxon runs a hand over his bare chest. “I just—” With difficulty, he works a swallow that I watch move all the way down his corded throat. Biting down on his lip, those dark eyes smolder as he peers at her from under a hooded gaze. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His hand slides slowly down his bare chest where it comes to a rest on his abs. Can she see that? If she can… does she like it? Fuck. I wish I could see her face.
But— Eyes crashing shut, I slowly shake my head, my jaw locked. I also don’t want to know. It kills me to admit I’m terrified of what I’d read in her eyes if I were to get a look at his screen.
“I miss hanging out with you, Jaxon. I’m sorry I’ve been out of it lately.” Rya’s soft voice aimed at someone other than me is a shot to my gut.
“We’ll fix that soon enough. I miss you, too. Miss touching you. Miss burying my face in your neck. Miss the way you fuckin’ taste.” His words come out on a rolling growl that eats me up inside. A moment later, his eyes flick to me. To make sure I’m still watching, no doubt.
And I can’t fucking tear my eyes from him. My skin prickles with unease. What’s he up to? I shoot him another text.
Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.
His lips curve just before his tongue slicks over his bottom lip. “Rya.” Her name is ragged and needy falling from his lips. “Show me what I’ve been missing out on.”
My phone vibrates with a notification and then another, making my chest jerk. Holding my breath, I thumb it open. The air I’d just taken in gusts out as I read.
Don’t?
Don’t what, dickweed?
Rya’s halting voice reaches my ears. “Like this?”
I swallow, because I can imagine what Jaxon is viewing on the screen. His greedy, lustful eyes are glued to her. Fuck. Rya. No. Stop. My head pounds. I should say something. But again, how do I tell her I’ve been here the whole fucking time, listening in?
And what if this is what she wants? Was he her first choice last night? A labored series of breaths falls from my lips as I tug on the back of my neck with one hand and let horrific, agonizing thoughts shoot around inside my skull. Why hasn’t she fucking said a word to me since she disappeared from my bed? I’ve texted her several times— once when I woke up, again before we got onto the bus, then another time right before the game started. She hasn’t even texted so much as a How are things going? It’s my first collegiate baseball game. She knows today would have been a fucking big deal for me, pitching or not. The Rya who is my best friend would have made sure to check in.
Anxiety and confusion ripple through me in unending waves. I thought last night meant something to her, because it sure did to me. But… maybe I was wrong about how she felt. If Jaxon had been around last night, would she have sought to distract herself in his arms instead? Would she have let him fuck her? Maybe it was about human connection for her and not specifically me.
Jaxon’s voice snaps my attention back to him, and my head bobs up to stare. His dick is fully erect behind his boxer briefs, and he has a hand resting on it, his lip caught between his teeth again. “Fuck, Rya. You’re killing me.”
Her soft, throaty, fucking sexy laugh has steam blowing out my ears. None of this is for me. It’s all for him. My head is near to exploding with what I willingly admit is jealous rage. She thought about me for two seconds when he brought me up. Would she have asked about me otherwise? Question after question ravages my mind and slices my heart to pieces.
The lust-filled expression on that asshole’s face is about to send me. “That’s it, baby.” Jaxon’s breath hitches. “Touch yourself for me.”
I go stock-still, every cell of my body screaming in anguish. She wouldn’t.
“That’s it. You’re such a good girl for me.”
Her soft moans threaten to be my undoing. My heart is being beaten to a pulp by Rya, and she’s not even aware of it.
“Are you wet, Ry?”
“Y-yes. So wet.”
And then Jaxon does the unthinkable. He shoves the front of his boxer briefs down and pulls out his cock. Raking his teeth over his lip, he begins to stroke himself in front of her… and me. “That’s it. Get yourself off. Imagine it’s me touching you.”
It’s debatable why he feels he can look long and hard at me, but he does, his hot eyes issuing a challenge, though it’s unclear what exactly it entails. My blood races from my head down to my traitorous cock, making it hard, despite the fact that I’m about as pissed off at my stepbrother as I’ve ever been. And Rya—I don’t even know what I’m feeling where she’s concerned, but she’s putting me through hell.
With my fury reaching an all-time high, the decision is made. At the very least, I’m going to give this fucker more than his conniving, sly ass bargained for. I set my phone down on the desk before ambling over to the foot of the bed. Jaxon’s cock is thick and hard, dripping with pre-cum. He’s using it to slicken his length as he slowly strokes himself while watching Rya get herself off.
“Fuuuck, Rya. That’s hot. Keep going.” His eyes hold a daring, dark light, his fist shuttling up and down his erection. His lips part, mouth dropping open. “Fuck, yes.”
Rya’s gasp does things to me. I can imagine what he’s seeing, because that was mine, if only for one night.
“I like it when you play with your nipples. I wanna put my mouth on them.” And while he’s saying those things to her, he’s watching me where I stand opposite him. The smirk might not be on his face where she notices it, but it’s definitely in his eyes.
“Oh god. Jaxon.”
His lips twist as he smiles at her on the screen. Or at me. Hard to tell. But I’ve had enough of his antics. I shove my pajama bottoms off and kick them to the side, then wrap my hand around my dick. Give myself a lazy stroke. Stare at him from under heated, hooded eyes.
His stomach dips, but he doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to slide his hand up and down his shaft. As I follow his movements with my eyes, more pre-cum seeps from him. His bold eyes meet mine, lock, and hold.
Fucking hell. I climb onto the edge of the bed and kneel there, forcing him to acknowledge my presence while daring him to keep going with me this close. It takes everything in me not to make a sound. My heart rate skyrockets as electricity shoots down my spine. I’m gonna make him pay.
It’ll be a miracle if I don’t bring even more hurt crashing down on my head in the process.
Fire threatens to consume me from the inside out. I rock my hips, pumping my cock with a firm grip, all while watching Jaxon begin to falter, sweat breaking out on his brow. “Fuck. Fuuuck,” he groans out as he throws his head back. He doesn’t say her name, and it occurs to the jealous, vindictive part of me that I might be the reason for that.
“I’m coming,” Rya moans, the breathless sounds of her climax reverberating through our hotel room.
If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine I’ve gone back in time to last night. But I haven’t. And that orgasm isn’t one I’ve given her.
“Fuck, yes. Give it to me,” Jaxon rasps, his gaze moving quickly from the phone screen where my girl cries out before flicking upward to me. Heat blasts through my body, and I choke back a groan, closing my eyes against what’s happening. “Open your eyes.”
My heart thuds hard at the command in his voice, beating on my rib cage, and they pop open.
“Good fucking girl.” He nods, a sexy grin breaking across his face, though whether he meant the cocky-as- shit smile for me or for the girl he’s praising, I’ll never fucking know. His brow twitches up in amusement that is most definitely aimed at me.
Dick . I stare daggers at him while he continues to slowly jerk himself. He shifts on the bed, pushing himself up a little bit.
“Was that okay?” Rya’s hesitant voice hits my ears, and I exhale harshly, my chest dipping with the release of air.
“You did so good. I can’t wait to be with you so I can touch you.”
There’s a slight pause before she squeaks out, “I should get some sleep.”
“Yeah. We’ve got a long bus ride in the morning. See you tomorrow. I’ll text you when we’re back.”
“Okay, have a good night.”
Fucker gives her this smile I know is meant to melt off the panties he just dampened. “Night. Oh, and Rya? That was sexy as fuck.” Outwardly, for her, he’s the picture of calm, shooting her a wink before hanging up the phone. A second later, though, he chucks it off the bed, where it lands on the carpeting with a soft thud. Twin pools of night stare at me.
I’m not going to be the one to back down. Things have already escalated this far, and if he wants to play a game of chicken with me, I’m more than happy to oblige. I guarantee he’ll be the first to crack. He brought this on both of us. Tightening my grip, I jack myself, arching a brow at him as I tip my head to the side. “Did you think this through before whipping it out?”
Jaxon eyes me, propped against the pillows and fisting his dick one second, and in the next, he’s launched himself across the bed. I’m caught off guard, and he uses that to his full advantage. He somehow manages to grab my biceps and twist us around. My back hits the mattress, and a gasp is expelled from my lungs.
Pinned to the bed with him straddled over me, I attempt to knock him off balance, but I can’t get a good angle. He blocks, then uses both legs to hold mine down.
The state of our undress hasn’t been forgotten, not by me. Him with boxer briefs below his ass, dick jutting out, harder than steel. Me, buck naked … and totally turned on, even though I shouldn’t be. Through his mask of rage, I can’t quite tell what he makes of the position he’s put us in. Smirking up into his face, I struggle to free my arms. I’m definitely stronger than he gave me credit for because he loses his hold on me more than once.
As we wrestle for dominance, grunts falling from our lips, his erection brushes my abs, my upper thigh, and my dick. It’s hot and hard, and I groan at the sensation, twisting under him as he forces my arms higher over my head.
Does he realize he’s practically lying on top of me? With every graze of his skin over mine, I bite back a moan that threatens to fall from my lips. I don’t want to be turned-on by this jackass’s antics, but it’s hard not to be.
His eyes pierce mine, full of hate and distrust. “Fuck you, motherfucker,” he bites out.
“Fuck me? I’m not the one holding you down.” I shake my head, a wry grin working its way onto my lips right before I growl, “Get the fuck off me,” and buck against him. In a bid to break free, I ram my elbows downward in a savage jerking motion. In response, he slams my arms right back onto the mattress and, whether it’s on purpose or not, I have no idea, but he drops his full weight onto me to keep me in place. I suck in a breath at the skin-on-skin contact, my heart slamming around as it attempts to punch a hole through my rib cage. His body is hard, all finely hewn muscle that has liquid fire flowing through my veins.
There’s a startled storm raging in his eyes, confused fury slashing in them like a torrent of rain hammering the earth. His chest jerks with each labored rise and fall, then suddenly our lips collide as he grinds his pelvis against mine. His teeth sink into my bottom lip, pulling roughly, and when his tongue plunges into my mouth, it brings the metallic taste of my own blood with it.
It’s too much for me to take in, the shock of him rubbing his body on mine, the savagery he kisses with, and, most of all, the crazed look in his eye. He’s all man, the woodsy scent of the soap he just used combining with fresh, clean sweat. It’s fucking intoxicating, and I hate myself for loving it. Hate myself for wanting him the way I do.
This is a ruinous, fierce game we’re playing, but for whatever reason, I allow the insanity of the moment to spark within me, then flare to life, dangerous and bright. As a child, I used to like playing with fire, edging my fingers closer and closer to the unyielding heat. If there’s one thing I finally learned, it’s this—flames are beautifully enticing but not always worth the pain that follows.
Somehow, I know deep down that whatever is happening here is going to really fucking hurt at some point. But even as those thoughts hurtle through my mind, I can’t stop whatever this thing is that rages between us, because it simply feels way too fucking good.
We shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t want every filthy second of this power struggle—because it’s clear that’s what this is. He’s trying to show me that he can bend me to his will.
I blink, breathing hard under him as he continues to grind against my dick. “What the fuck are you doing?” I heave out, hate warring with passion as white heat flashes through me. He bites at my neck, then finally lets go of my wrists only to grasp my hair with both hands and slam his mouth back onto mine. His tongue shoves into my mouth, wickedly stroking. I feel his pent-up fury with every lash and bite and suck. My stepbrother. My nemesis. My tormentor.
“Fuck you,” I gasp in between reckless, dirty kisses.
“No, fuck. You,” Jaxon growls. And despite our words, our bodies slide together like a well-oiled machine, taking, taking, taking as my legs shake with the effort to stall the inevitable. He’s relentless—his hot, hard body, all those muscles. Fuck! There’s simply no way to control my orgasm as it barrels closer. My head is a twisted-up, disoriented place as I come hard, panting and staring at the ceiling and wondering how the fuck we got here.
Jaxon groans, tearing his lips from mine. He shifts until his hot breath cascades down my neck with every exhalation and goose bumps rise on my skin. In my ear, he rasps, “You’re going to learn something, Logan. I. Always. Fucking. Win.” He punctuates those last four words with a snap of his hips, then with a bitter shout, cum spurts rhythmically from him, coating my stomach with his animosity.