Chapter 5 #2
"Yup, though be careful. You're sharing it with Adam and Sergio."
Oh, Jesus. A hundred dirty fantasies flash through my mind. Them walking in on me in the shower, me catching one of them drying off, skin slick with water, muscled chest exposed, and their cocks…
I slam the door shut on that particular branch of thought. "Got it. I'll make sure to knock."
"Okay. Just. Make yourself at home, okay?"
"I'll try." I have a feeling that conversation we're going to have tomorrow about me staying here is going to be fraught, but for now, I don't have the energy to fight it.
"Good."
With that, he turns to leave. There's something about the way he's framed in the door.
I'm usually so distracted by his face that I can forget what his body looks like these days.
But as he turns away, all I can see is the silhouette of him against the light spilling in from the hallway.
His shoulders seem to take up the whole doorframe.
His waist is trim, his thighs muscular, and his ass…
Well.
I lick my lips. His name escapes before I can call it back. "Cayden…"
"Yeah?"
What was I even going to ask? Stay with me? Kiss me?
Do you ever wonder what might have happened between us if I had stayed on Lonely Peak?
I'm not brave enough to ask any of those things.
What if he rejects me? I was never really in his class back in the day.
I strongly doubt that I am now. I'm a high school art teacher, and he's a veteran, a hardened mountain man, working the old lumber mill of the Tucker property. I'm only here for a couple of months.
I've been discarded before. Rejected and thrown away with little more than a laugh.
But I'm not thinking of that. For a moment, all I can think about is tonight, and what it would be like if he pressed me down into this bed. Kissed me hard and stripped me down and pushed inside.
"Haley?"
The fantasy disintegrates. I meet the warm blue of his eyes, and they're guileless—not clouded by the same fog of wanting I've been wandering through all day.
I shake my head. "Nothing. Just." I cast about for some reason—any reason why I would have called him back. I'm pretty sure I can figure out where the towels are, and like I just said. There's really nothing else I need.
And maybe that's the key.
"Just—thanks," I finally manage to stammer out. "For everything."
"You're welcome, Haley. Anytime. Always." And maybe there's that hint of heat I was searching for a second ago, only now it's too late
I give a weak, appreciative smile. The next thing I know, he's closing the door behind him, and I'm alone in this room.
I flop backward on the bed, grab a pillow and hold it over my mouth. I stifle a scream in it.
What the hell am I doing?
My whole world is in chaos, and the boy I had a crush on in middle school put his arm around me and held my hand like three times today. I'm a mess of hormones and avoidance issues, and I couldn't even bring myself to ask the guy if maybe he wanted to make out a little or something.
What am I doing here?
Besides finally, finally being behind a closed door for the first time since I almost spontaneously burst into flame in the cab of Cayden's truck when Jax put his hand on my thigh.
Jesus. The sense memory flares, and suddenly I'm back there, penned in by two huge, hard male bodies. My pussy throbs, dampness flooding my panties.
With a groan, I toss the pillow aside and flop over onto my stomach. I know it's weird, but that's how I've always been the most comfortable masturbating. I undo the fly of my jeans and reach my hand inside.
The first contact of my own fingers on my overheated flesh sends ripples of pleasure through me. Oh man, this is going to be quick. I slip my fingertips through my lower lips, gathering up my wetness. I'm slick and swollen, ready to pop any minute.
Sliding up to touch my clit, I put myself back in the cab of that truck. I imagine Jax nudging his hand up a little higher, gripping my thigh and then cupping me through my jeans. What would he be like as a kisser? Probably savage. He'd probably bite.
But he and Cayden have always been at their best when they were working together. What if Cayden pulled over?
Right on the side of the road, they could have had me. Cayden could have pushed me back until I lay against Jax's rock solid chest. I rub my clit harder, sneaking my other hand under my shirt to tug at my nipples, and the tight flare of sensation winds me higher.
Cayden would be a sweet kisser. Passionate but kind. I imagine him attacking my entire body, sliding his lips to my throat and sucking a bruise there, before sliding lower. Putting his mouth on my breast or on my pussy. God, I bet he'd be so good with his mouth, nice and wet, with lots of tongue.
I bury my face into the bed, swallowing my moans and trying to calm my breathing, but I'm spiraling toward orgasm too fast.
What if the both of them had taken me there in the cab of the truck?
Cayden, hard and intense, face to face, thrusting in and out of my hot, wet pussy, a hand on my clit, making me come around his thick cock.
He'd come, and then Jax would throw me over the seat.
Take me from behind and fuck me hard. Savage.
And what if it wasn't just them?
In a flash, my fantasy relocates itself to their living room.
The truck becomes their couch. Jax pulls out after filling me with his come, only to be replaced with Adam, and he'd be nice about it, too, wouldn't he?
He'd fuck me nice and sweet, and then Sergio.
What would I give to thread my fingers through his long, silky hair as he fucked me good.
He's the strong, silent type, right? He'd fuck intensely, with his whole concentration bent to it.
He'd come silently and take me right over the edge with him, screaming my release.
Only to be thrown into Deandre's arms.
Pleasure spikes, sharp and hungry in my cunt. God, that man is just so powerful. He could throw me around, take me in all kinds of crazy positions. Probably throw me against a wall, and he's got to be huge. I imagine the stretch as he splits me open with his monstrous, fat cock.
And just like that, it's over. I come with sparks shooting across my eyes, groaning into the mattress, five guys' names on my lips, and it's not enough. The emptiness inside is a physical pain as I clench and throb.
I want to go downstairs. I want to ask these guys to fuck me just like that, maybe one in my mouth or my ass—I've never done that before, but I'm suddenly so willing to try.
It isn't until my unsatisfying orgasm fades that I hear it.
Creaking.
I shoot up, pulling my hand from my pants, my eyes snapping open. The instant I still, the sound stops.
Because it was the bed frame. Oh, God. That whole time, the bed was making a racket, squeaking with every moment of my hips. I didn't even wait until I was sure Cayden was gone. I didn't lock the door.
What if everybody heard?
What if they heard me call all their names?