13. Chapter 13 #2
A murderous growl rips from my throat. Releasing him, I slam my palms against the wall of lockers on either side of his stupid pale-blonde head.
The waves of his stupid hair look so soft that I almost have to physically restrain myself from running my fingers through it.
And his stupid rosey lips look so goddamn inviting as his tongue flicks out to wet them.
“Call me that again and you’ll have my blade shoved somewhere very uncomfortable,” I growl, with barely contained lust. Maddox leans forward, lips dangerously close to touching mine.
“Do you promise, baby ?” he questions, voice dipping sinfully low.
His head tilts to one side, observing me with such intensity that I struggle to breathe properly.
I should back up, create some healthy distance between us, but I can’t.
I’m magnetised to this idiot, and the heat glowing under my skin because of it is beginning to make me feel nauseous.
Finally his eyes soften, anger melting into lust.
"Come on, a couple of kisses won’t ruin a friendship.” He leans in closer, breath hot against my neck. “It’s when I finally get inside you, that's when you won't ever be able to look at me as a friend again.”
The sheer conviction in his tone sends a pulse straight to my already stiff cock. Jesus fucking Christ.
I can’t believe those words just left Maddox’s lips… The guy who’s had my back since we were two messed up kids.Only—If I’m being really honest with myself, we’re looking at each other a little too long to just be friends these days.
The feel of his thick cock rolling into my groin through our pants feels so fucking sensational that I’m having trouble remembering why this is a bad idea in the slightest. It’s like the thought is right there, until I reach for it, and then it dissolves into a murky haze; as if I’m trying to shovel sand out of a hole, but the tide keeps filling it in, burrowing deeper and diluting it all.
Maddox hums in approval as he leaves a trail of wet kisses down my throat, his lips closing around the delicate skin. A soft hum escapes me at the feeling. I th– fuck that feels good –I think he’s marking my collarbone with a hickey.
“Maddox,” I whimper, slipping into the need for his touch until we’re kissing and licking and biting each other’s flesh. His tongue slips into my mouth, drawing a soft moan from me as it deepens.
There’s not a thought in my head aside from how incredible this feels. I get a flutter of panic but I quickly squash it, pushing it down to where it can’t touch this moment. My body is hungry from years of yearning, years of denying myself the chance to feel this with him.
A rapid clanking sound fills the air as he unbuckles my belt, and that shitbag smirks as I feel the cold air bite into my bare skin from where my slacks hang open.
Then my earpiece chirps, the high-pitched static splintering through my brain and shattering the haze.
The spell doesn't just break, it’s fucking obliterated.
"Rylen? We’ve got a situation in the foyer, they're asking for you by name.
" whines Philzy. Of all the incompetent, mouth-breathing idiots on Maddox's payroll, it has to be him—the stupid prick can’t even handle a simple perimeter check without crying for help, but he sure as fuck knows how to pick the worst possible moment to open his mouth.
I wrench myself away from Maddox, my face instantly hardening back into the professional, unreadable mask I never should have let him crack.
My heart is still trying to kick its way out of my ribs, but my hands move on muscle memory alone, hauling my slacks up and jerking my belt through the buckle.
My skin is still throbbing where his mouth was, a branding heat that makes me feel clammy with the weight of my own weakness .
"Duty calls, Mr. CEO," I snark, my voice dripping with enough venom to kill. I turn my back on Maddox and stalk out, not giving him the satisfaction of a second look as I leave him alone with the cold metal of the lockers and the mess he’s made of me.
When I'm safely around the corner, I scrub a hand down my face, exhaustion taking a hold of me and causing me to make careless little mistakes at my job, such as the incident that just took place.
My phone vibrates in my pants pocket and I hurriedly grab it out, hoping it will finally be a reply from Nathyn.
MADS:
Don't even think about covering that hickey or I'll pin you down and mark your fkn forehead next time.
Nope. Absolutely not dealing with that right now.
I slip my phone away, tempted to turn it off all together but then thinking better of it.
I jog up the staircase until I'm striding through the service hall into the foyer, my jaw set and my hands itching for a reason to snap someone’s bones.
I want a fight. I need something physical to drown out the static in my head and the lingering heat of Maddox’s hands.
But then I walk through the curtain dividing the main door from the rest of the foyer, and see him and all the anger dissapates.
Bry is standing there by the entrance, looking entirely too upset, and the guilt of not replying to his concerns is suffocating.
Philzy is hovering a few feet away, looking like he’s about to trip over his own feet, but I don’t even acknowledge him after he willingly partook in what is very clearly a trap.
Later, if I can get him alone I'll make him regret ever drawing a breath. My heart, which was already slamming against my ribs, drops into my stomach.
"Oh," Bry scoffs, his voice flat, cutting straight through the bass vibrating in the floorboards. He doesn't look like he's going to scream, he looks like he’s already given up on me. "So you are alive, then."
The air in the foyer feels like lead, and seeing him makes me feel like I’m rotting from the inside out. I stood him up for a threesome that I'm cowardly pretending I don’t remember, and I didn't even have the decency to send a text to tell him not to worry.
"Bry," I start, but the name feels foreign, like I don't have the right to say it anymore.
"I waited at the restaurant for two hours," he hisses, cutting me off, "I actually thought something happened to you. I was so worried, Rylen."
"But I see you're just here, trying to look intimidating while you, what? Chase down some lowlife who forgot to pay their tab?" He snarls, but it comes out more like heartbreak than aggression.
I feel the sudden, uncomfortable prickle of defensiveness at his tone. I inhale deeply, choosing my words carefully before I speak.
"I'm sorry that I didn't get back to you, as you can see we're hosting a very large private event tonight. And I help manage a very successful club actually." I reply, trying to keep my voice low so that it doesn't filter in behind the curtain.
"It's Maddox's club," he says bluntly, lowering his voice, "and you manage it for him, not with him. Don't you ever feel like you're just... a really competent shadow?" He gestures vaguelly around us.
"That guy? That's not you. I see who you really are; you're this incredible, stunning person who could do something for yourself that isn't connected to the guy who gave you the job." He muses.
His words landed like heavy stones, hitting exactly where I'm most vulnerable—my perceived dependence on Maddox, my lack of an identity separate from the him, and the gnawing feeling that I was only ever the muscle . The white-hot burning pain in my ear returns, sharp and furious.
"Look boys, maybe take your little lovers quarrel outside, yeah?" Philzy laughs nervously. We both ignore him. "I'm not in his shadow," I snap, tightening my fists until the knuckles threaten to split through the skin.
"Just promise me you'll think about it, okay? You're better than running security for the rest of your life, and you deserve more than that," Bry remarks, tilting his head toward my ear; the mangled tip backing up his accusation.
"You deserve something that's only yours," he says softly, reaching out to place his hand over my heart. I pull away, the sudden tension thick enough to choke on. Bry's hand awkwardly falls to his side.
The pain in my ear has flared into a distracting roar and the thought of him touching me like that infront of the guys at work makes me feel far too vulnerable. "We're done talking about this," I mutter, not willing to look at him.
"Right, of course. Don't listen to me, I was just so worried about you.
It killed me not knowing if you were being zipped into a body bag or not," he laments, voice growing smaller.
Bry curses, his eyes appearing pained as he fists the long auburn hair on either side of his head.
He starts pacing around the small area, seemingly undecided if he should stay or leave.
After a few moments, I jerk my chin towards the curtain signalling that I want Philzy to fuck off and give us some privacy. When he leaves I reach out to gently grab Bry's wrist, haulting his spiral. My voice softens as he points those big honey eyes at me.
"I'm sorry, okay?" I tell him. "I didn't mean to get you so worked up. But I'm fine, and if you'd be willing to, I'd still like to take you out on that date."
Bry instantly deflates, throwing his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into a tight embrace.
"I'm sorry too," he mumbles into my shirt.
"I overstepped and shouldn't have said what I did.
You just make me so crazy." He sinks deeper into the embrace, nuzzling into the crook of my neck.
I stroke his hair in what I hope is a soothing manner, and not like I'm patting a dog.
When his breathing evens out shortly after, I pull back until he's at arms length. "Hey, can we please organise it another time? I’ve got to get back in there." I nod my head behind me. Bry looks a little embarrassed, as if forgetting where we are.
"Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry," he mumbles, reaching across himself to hold his other arm.
"Alright, talk later. And tell Nathyn to fucking call me when you get home." I say, attempting a smile. Bry's brows pinch together in confusion. "He didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?" I ask hesitantly, already not liking where this is going.
"Nath moved out last week."