Chapter 7
Zac
My pulse spikes when he pushes through the navy curtain, but I push the anticipation down and slink further into the shadows as his gaze roams the room.
I didn’t know if I’d see him tonight after he ran out last month, but I was willing to take the chance, even if Coach Johnson will kick my arse if he finds out I’m out the night before a game.
I keep telling myself I didn’t come tonight to see if he’d show up.
My mind rebels against the lie.
I’m not drinking alcohol, but my head spins as my eyes wash over his black jeans and the charcoal button-up shirt clinging to his muscles.
The top two buttons are undone, revealing a hint of his muscular chest. His dark curls frame his face, giving him a Timothée Chalamet charm.
The black mask hides his identity from me, and I can’t help but picture my broody captain behind it.
As soon as the thought hits me, I shake my head, chasing it away. Nope. Not going there.
Noah hasn’t said a single nasty word to me this week. He’d have to speak to me at all for that, but he hasn’t even looked at me since the ride home. I don’t know what’s worse. At least I knew what he was thinking when he was cussing me out. The indifference has me overthinking everything.
Besides, he’s on a date tonight. With a girl.
Good for him.
I return my watchful gaze to my dark shadow as he moves to the bar to order a drink.
He says something to the bartender, who shakes his head, and his mouth turns down.
Leaning his back against the bar, he continues to search the crowd, and a little spark of hope ignites in my chest that maybe he’s looking for me.
As the DJ plays 12 to 12 by Sombr, I decide to take a chance.
He may have run off and left me on my knees a month ago, but he’s back, and I can’t get the image of his adorned cock out of my head.
I haven’t even looked at anyone else this past month—I refuse to acknowledge the slip up with my straight-as-an-arrow captain—because I’ve been thinking about how good this mysterious stranger felt pressed up against me when we danced, the spark that lit up my body when our tongues met, and the way his thick length filled my mouth.
I down the last of my Coke, then make my way through the crowd until I’m standing beside him.
After placing my empty glass on the bar, I lean in to murmur, “Looking for someone?”
He tenses, and I get a horrible feeling he’s about to run away again, but then he slowly turns, his dark eyes washing over me as his lips curl into a sexy smirk.
“Well, if it isn’t my Romeo.”
His husky voice sends shivers of pleasure rippling down my spine.
“Are you trying to warn me we’re destined for tragedy?” I tease, my pulse racing.
“I really fucking hope not,” he says, gripping the back of my neck and pulling me down to meet his bruising kiss.
Startled by his bold move, I gasp, and he uses my surprise to push his tongue into my mouth, both of us groaning as the kiss deepens.
I drop my hands to his waist and pull him to me, his thick erection pressing into my hip as mine presses into his. He grinds against my length, sending fireworks sizzling along every nerve in my body.
There’s no doubt the chemistry between us is off the charts fire.
I pull away from the kiss, pressing my finger to his lips when he tries to chase me.
“Are you going to run away from me again, Shadow?” I call over the music. “Because I didn’t appreciate being left on my knees.”
His shame is clear, even behind the mask, which is why when he takes my hand and pulls me to a quieter lounge area behind the DJ booth, I follow without question.
We relax side by side on a two-seater leather couch, and he places our entwined hands on his thigh, the intimacy taking me by surprise.
He doesn’t take his eyes off our joined hands as he admits, “I’m sorry about last month.” He runs his free hand through his dark curls. “That was a dick move.”
“Yeah, it was.” I huff a laugh, my thoughts muddled by the way he’s brushing his thumb back and forth over my knuckles. “Do you plan on doing it again?”
He shakes his head.
We sit for a moment, and though both of us are lost in our own thoughts, we’re hyperaware of how narrow the space is that separates us.
He clears his throat, his hand tightening around mine. “I… uh… No one knows outside of here. About me, that is.”
My lips tug into a smirk. “I figured.”
“I’m sorry about freaking out on you,” he says, his voice quiet yet rough, a hint of frustration creeping through. “I… enjoyed it. Very much. It’s just hard to block out the voices in my head sometimes.”
I squeeze his hand, and he lifts his gaze to mine, his dark eyes almost black behind his mask. “You don’t have to explain. We’re in a sex club. It’s not a forever commitment.”
He swallows and ducks his head, leaving me to wonder if he’s disappointed.
Before I can overthink it, he releases my hand and slides off the couch to kneel in front of me, with his hands resting on my knees.
My breath catches as he looks up at me, desire burning in his eyes, and my heart beats out an eager rhythm as his hands slide up my thighs until he reaches my rock-hard bulge.
“Is this for me, Romeo?” he growls, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as he rubs me over my jeans.
I nod, shifting my hips, pushing myself into his touch.
His shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath, and I wonder if this is his first blow job.
Threading my fingers into his curls, I lean forward and press my lips to his.
“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” I murmur.
Planting a hand on my chest, he pushes me back with a sexy smirk, his other hand deftly popping the button on my jeans.
He makes quick work of the zipper, and I lift my hips to help him gain access to my aching cock.
It juts up proudly like a soldier reporting for active duty, and he locks his eyes on mine as he swirls his tongue around my head, tasting me.
“Fuck,” I groan, relaxing back into the couch.
The question of whether this is his first blow job flies right out the window; he licks a trail up the underside of my cock then takes me in his warm, wet mouth all the way to the back of his throat.
He may not be out yet, but he can deep-throat like nobody’s business.
He finds his rhythm, his hand wrapping around my base as he squeezes with the perfect amount of pressure, working me up and down.
I bite down on my bottom lip as I watch him, loving how he doesn’t take his eyes off mine as he sucks me like his favourite lollipop.
“Are you going to come down my throat, Romeo?” he rasps when he pops off my cock, a trail of saliva still connecting us.
Holy shit.
“You gonna swallow it all like a good boy, Shadow?”
“Only if you fuck my mouth and show me how bad you want me to take it.”
Christ, this man’s dirty talk is next level.
“Squeeze my thigh if it gets too much,” I tell him, running my thumb over his bottom lip.
“It’s not my first rodeo,” he says with a smirk that makes my stomach clench.
“Be careful with that smart mouth, baby,” I warn, gripping his curls tightly and guiding him back to my waiting cock. He braces his hands on my thighs and opens his mouth, drawing me inside.
I give a shallow thrust, giving him time to adjust, but his dark eyes bore into mine, daring me to give him everything I’ve got. My dick twitches in his mouth at the challenge, and he hums, sending a zing of pleasure straight to my balls.
Muttering a curse, I push him down, impaling him on my length. He’s clearly trained his gag reflex. It’s so fucking hot.
I hold him against my groin before letting him up for a few shallow breaths, then push him down again.
The tears pooling in his eyes turn me on even more—he doesn’t squeeze my thigh, so I don’t stop—and when one slips from beneath his mask to roll down his cheek, I catch it with my thumb and bring it to my lips. His resulting groan has my balls drawing up, my impending release building.
My thrusts become jerky, and I release his hair, dropping my hands to the couch as he continues to work me.
An electric charge builds at the base of my spine, causing my heart to damn near explode.
He swipes his tongue over my slit, then sucks me deep, breathing through his nose, and bracing for the moment I spill down his throat with a muffled cry.
True to his word, he swallows every last drop.
When I’m completely spent, he tucks me inside my boxers and climbs up my body, bracing his knees on either side of my waist.
I grip his hips as he kisses me deep and hard, his erection grinding against my dick. There’s no running away this time. Regardless of whatever is going on in his life outside these walls, he’s finding himself here. With me.
His groin rubs out a punishing pace as we make out, and my hand slides down the back of his jeans to squeeze his arse. He moans into my mouth, and I swallow the sound, working my finger between his cheeks. His head drops back as I bite down on his throat and rub my finger over his hole.
He trembles in my arms, groaning as his body goes rigid, and I grin when he slumps against me—he’s just blown his load in his boxers. He nuzzles into the crook of my neck, his breaths shallow, and I close my eyes, relishing how good he feels in my arms.
All good things have to come to an end, though.
As his breathing returns to normal, he pulls back and presses his mouth to mine, smiling against my lips.
“Fuck,” he groans, shifting off my lap to collapse onto the couch next to me. “I haven’t blown in my pants like that since I was a teenager.”
I chuckle, rolling my head to the side to look at him. “How old are you, anyway?”
He hesitates, and I wonder if he’ll freak out over me asking something that could identify him, but we live in a town with a university that boasts a student population of over ten thousand.
For all I know, he doesn’t even attend Beckford U.
He’s ripped. Maybe he’s a tradie and didn’t take the higher education route.
“Twenty-three,” he finally says. “You?”
“Twenty-two.”
He smirks. “So, I’m older, huh?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m clearly wiser.”
He shoves my shoulder before leaning in for another kiss. When he pulls away all too soon, he shifts in his seat and grimaces. “I need to clean up.”
I tense, realising this is where his conscience sets in and he leaves me again.
As if realising what I’m thinking, he reaches for my hand.
“I’m not freaking out on you, I promise.
I may not be ready to scream my sexuality from the rooftops, but someone told me tonight that I’m in charge of my life, no one else.
They can all have their opinions, but eventually, they’ll have to accept me for who I am and what I want. ”
My chest tightens. “Profound.”
He grins. “Yeah. It won’t be easy erasing all the bullshit still going on in my head, but at least I can be who I want to be at Euphoria.”
“Yeah, you can.” I stifle a yawn and check my watch, my eyes widening when I see its almost midnight.
Fuck, Cinderfella’s about to turn into a pumpkin.
I lean in and kiss him. “Go clean yourself up, Shadow, but I have to go. I have a big…” I pause, realising I’m about to tell him about soccer, but I can’t give away my identity. Not just yet. “I have something on tomorrow, and I need to get some sleep.”
Disappointment reflects in his eyes, but he nods. “Yeah, sure. Of course. I actually should get home, too.”
“Are you coming back next month?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.
“Yeah. Maybe we could…” His voice trails off, uncertainty lacing his tone.
My heart does a backflip. “What?” I push.
He releases a shaky breath. “Maybe I could get us a room next time?”
My eyes widen. Whoever this guy is, he has money. I can withdraw enough from the savings account my pop left me to pay for Euphoria’s basic membership without drawing attention, but I definitely can’t afford one of the private rooms.
“Only if you want to, that is,” he adds. “No expectations. I don’t mind a bit of exhibitionism, but I thought it might be nice to have some privacy—”
I shut him up with a deep kiss, and he moans into my mouth, his fingers sliding up to tug on my hair. My dick twitches to attention, but I force myself to pull away.
I really need to get home and get some sleep; I can’t afford to be tired for tomorrow’s game. Noah won’t let me hear the end of it if we lose another one.
“Get the room.”
His lips curl into a smile. “Meet you by the bar at ten-thirty next month.”
I wink. “I’ll be here.”