32. JAXON
32
JAXON
The alarm goes off a minute later, jarring me from my thoughts. Away from the infuriating hold Logan has on me. Trip bangs on the door Rya and Hazel are behind, and another frat brother hammers on the other before both of them throw the doors wide open.
Rya and Hazel come out giggling. The other two must have had a much different experience, though, as Steven’s face is beet red, and the girl—Annabeth?—won’t meet anyone’s gaze. Trip takes one look at them, and barks out, “Well?”
The girl mumbles, “Shots, please.”
“What? But we—” Steven’s jaw snaps shut when his partner aims a withering look at him. He relents with a sigh. “Fine. Give us the shots if she doesn’t want to admit to what we did in there. ”
Damn.
Hazel raises her brows and holds her hands out, palms up, getting Trip’s attention. “My roommate is a good kisser. Hand over my hundred bucks. Gimme!”
Fuck, I’d kiss just about anyone in the closet for a hundred bucks. It wouldn’t make more than a small dent in my mom’s medical bills, but at least it’d be something.
Trip’s gaze shifts to Rya, a hundred-dollar bill hanging from each hand. My jaw works to the side. I guess they’ve got money to throw the fuck around. He squints, eyeing her, looking for any sign she might be fibbing. “Did it actually happen?”
She bites her lip and nods, a faint blush staining her cheeks. I can read her facial expressions well enough by now to know she’s totally telling the truth, and the thought of her kissing Hazel has a jolt of excitement shooting through me, but also a jealous punch nailing me in the gut. At least I’m ninety-nine percent certain it’s all about beating Trip at his game for them.
A moment later, the wicked smirks on their faces as they snatch the cash out of his hand confirms that for me. “Yes. That was too easy,” Rya quips. “But thanks for the coffee money.”
Trip arches a brow, but then continues. “Okay, is everyone good?” At the collective nodding in the room, his minions begin to pass around more shots .
Rya finds me right where she left me, and her eyes meet mine, a funny, awkward smile playing at her lips. She puts her hands on my abs and leans in close. “That was… interesting.”
I snicker. “I bet. Fuckin’ hot is what it sounds like. Probably best I didn’t see that.”
She gives a little shrug as one of the Tri-Betas comes over with shots for each of us. Wrinkling a nose, she accepts it and quickly tosses it back, then shudders as it slides down her throat. “That’s like fire.”
“From here on out, I’ll take the rest of yours for you. Don’t sweat it.”
“Thank you. I mean that.” Her gaze slides over to Trip, as does mine while he continues with his circus shenanigans, but no one we know has been called into the closets for round two. “At least he listened to me even if he was a dick about it.”
“Don’t give him too much credit,” I murmur, my focus shifting back to Logan across the room. It’s obvious Rya is aware he’s over there and she’s keeping her back to him for a reason. Out of sight, out of mind. Only… I’m not fooled. I doubt he’s ever off her radar. In fact, if she didn’t truly care for him, she’d have brushed off the breakup of their friendship. I wasn’t lying to Logan about that. She’s been miserable this week and trying so hard to hide it.
I pull her into my arms, and we sway together as a slow song plays through the speakers. My hands slide down the delicate curve of her back, then rest at the top of her ass. I make eye contact with Logan to let him know I see him watching us. He wrenches his gaze away. It must be hard to see me in possession of what was once his.
By the time we get to round four of this damn game, people are beginning to get a little sloppy. The entire room has had at least two shots apiece, and in many cases, more depending on whether they’ve accepted an extra for a friend. In addition, those who spent time in one of those closets but chose not to bend to Trip’s whims have had even more.
“Time to choose our final victims! Let’s gooo!” Trip throws both arms in the air as the last round of shots are passed through the crowd. It seems like Trip’s gotten himself plenty fucked up during his own game.
“Jaxon, what kind of vodka was that, do you know?” Rya’s brow furrows as she makes a yuck face. “I don’t like it.”
I don’t get a chance to answer as our attention is grabbed by Hazel bopping to the music on her way over to Logan. As soon as she reaches him, she proceeds to turn around and twerk in front of him. I raise a brow. Shit, girlfriend is totally wasted. I’m a half second from shaking my head when Trip shouts for everyone to shut up.
He draws two names and has them stand to one side of him, then dips his hand into the bowl for another two slips of paper. “Rya Monroe, you’re our luckiest girl tonight! You’re up again.”
She eases back from me, and as I stare into her eyes, I can tell she really doesn’t want to. Odds are she’ll get pressure from some dickwad that she’ll have to deal with…
Logan has taken a step forward, his eyes trained on her with an unyielding claim I’m not so sure I can get behind.
Nope, not today, Saint Logan. I raise my hand. “Can I go in for her?”
Trip narrows his beady-eyed drunken gaze on me, then glances at the other paper in his hand. “Yes. You’re sure?”
I roll my eyes, running a hand over my jaw. “I fuckin’ asked to, didn’t I?”
Rya shakes her head, peering up at me unsteadily. “I’ll be okay.”
“No. Let me do this for you,” I quietly demand as I cup her cheek. “It’s an easy hundred bucks or a shot, then we’re done and can return to the dorm.” I’m not pitching this weekend. It’ll be fine if I’m a little hungover. I’ll deal with it.
She stares up at me, swaying a bit as she whispers, “Okay.”
I wink, hoping to reassure her, then head over to stand beside Trip. I gesture to the slip of paper. “Who’s the girl? ”
Trip glances at it, snorting. His face distorts, giving him a deranged appearance as he cackles. He wets his lips, like he’s already eating this shit up. “Logan Kent.”
I turn to find Rya’s hands covering the lower half of her face, her horror-struck eyes traveling from me to Logan and back.
My teeth clench. No, he did not. But… he did. Trip slaps the envelope against my chest so I have to grab it or drop it and crooks a devilish finger at Logan.
For several seconds, I don’t move and neither does anyone else in the room. Everyone’s waiting with bated breath for Logan’s response and my own.
Eyes wide and pinned on me, Logan works his jaw to the side. “You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”
“’Fraid not.” Trip’s amusement knows no bounds, and if he’s not careful, he’s going to get clocked in the chin.
Shaking my head, I yank the card from the envelope. Fuck it.
Seven Minutes
in Tri-Beta Heaven (or Hell):
Oral. Have fun, kids.
I suck in a breath, my chest burning, because my lungs refuse to function. What. The. Fuck.
Logan joins us, holding out his hand for the card, briefly reading it before he slaps it back into Trip’s hand. He eyes me, his expression unreadable. “Can we just get these seven minutes over with?” Pivoting on his heel, he pushes into one of the closets, leaving me to follow in his wake.
The second I step inside, he slams the door shut behind me, leaving us in total darkness. There’s an audible ripple of noise from the people outside the door, but then the music fires back up. The voices become muffled. We’re alone. Me. Logan. And the stifling hostility between us.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Logan seethes. “That card. Who the fuck does Trip think he is?”
I step closer, wishing I could see more than a slight flash of the whites of his eyes. “Whatever, Logan.” Shoving his shoulder, I send his body into the wall behind him with a thud.
“The fuck is wrong with you,” he bites out.
If I can push him hard enough, rile him up, maybe he’ll do this, and I can walk out of here with the money. Fuck. And maybe… “You want to suck my dick, Logan. Tell me you haven’t thought about it.” I release a knowing chuckle, pressing closer and grasping the back of his neck in my hand so he can’t move. He’s trapped between my chest and the wall, much like he’d been between me and the bed. Only the last time, he’d been naked.
Seeking to provoke him in one way or another, I tilt my pelvis toward him. In a flash of white-hot carnal desire, I realize I’m hard. Turning myself on with my own fucking words. I shove my free hand between us, first sliding my fingers over my straining dick… then brushing the backs of them over his.
“Jaxon, you’re deluded,” he growls, hot breath fanning my face, our lips a hair’s breadth apart. Teasing. Sexy.
My head reels, caught between the fucking game we’re playing for money and a need so potent it threatens everything I’ve ever known. I spit, “The way you writhed under me. Sought out my dick with yours. You know you wanted it then. Want it now. And the idea that you could have it, shut away in this closet… It’s fucking killing you. Think about the way it would feel to have your lips wrapped around me, the taste and feel of my cum spurting down your throat.”
His mouth is right on mine when he murmurs roughly, “Admit you want it, too. Tell me you want my mouth on you.”
Those words have my abs dipping, the intense hunger of the moment winning. I slam my mouth to his, plunging my tongue inside, immediately demanding fucking everything from him. We’re still battling with lips and tongue when he tears his mouth from mine and grips me by the shirt, spinning us around. He presses my back to the wall. “Tell me now, or I’m walking out of here.” The words fall heavily from his lips, raw desire spiking like an electrical current.
My chest heaving between us, I rasp, “Suck my dick, Logan.” I can’t see him, but I can feel his stare as my blood heats within my veins. The entire world as I know it tilts on its axis. Eyes crashing shut, I listen for his breaths, and thank fuck, they’re as ragged as my own.
Logan’s hand finds my dick and rubs me over my jeans. He leans in, his breath a wicked caress as he brings his lips to my ear. “Say. Fucking. Please.” Nimble fingers unbutton my pants and lower my zipper. His hands hook into the waistband, dragging them over my ass. My cock springs free, and I groan with relief. “Well, Jaxon? What’s it gonna be?” He grips my dick tightly, stroking me from base to tip.
Time seems to stop, words catching in my throat as my body arches into his aggressive touch. “Please,” I manage to grind out. The second I say it—the moment I beg , I know I’m in big trouble. He has me where he wants me.
In the dark, he shifts, his grasp altering. And then, one breath after another cascades over my erection. I jerk in his hand, my abs twitching. The first flick of his tongue over the head of my cock, sliding up the slit, nearly sends me over the edge. He groans, taking me into his mouth, and sucks.
“Fuuuck.” My legs shake, and I can’t help myself. I clutch at his hair with both hands. As he swallows me deeper, and deeper still, a low, throaty moan falls, unbidden, from my lips.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. My mind jumps from the people on the other side of that door to the stupid game and the money to how to admit to Rya—the one we both want—what we’ve done… and finally, to the guy on his knees in front of me, the man who is taking my cock down his throat like a fucking champ. My stepbrother.
With my head dropping back on my shoulders, I let sensation rush through me like a runaway train as I begin to rock my hips. My heart pounds harder with every stroke into his mouth. “Take it deeper,” I groan out.
He does, letting me hit the back of his throat until I think my brain must be slowly leaking from my ears. His every action stirs volatile, heady feelings inside me. I’m coming unglued at the seams.
Slowly going out of my mind, rapture burns through my veins. Fuck, I never want this to end—and it won’t. Not until I’ve spilled down his greedy throat.
And the hell of it is, I don’t know if it’s so fucking good because I can’t see him or if I’m so fucking affected because I know it’s him.