Chapter 27 #2
Because she sure as hell isn’t the Nola I thought I knew. Whatever influence Callie has over Nola, I’m not sure I like it.
“Get on the bike,” I command.
“What?” Her brows pull together.
“Get on the fucking bike, Nola.”
She opens her mouth, like she wants to argue, but lets out a heavy sigh before stepping closer. I shift forward, giving her room.
“Put this on.” I pull my helmet off, shaking out my hair before handing it to her.
She bites her lower lip, and I hate how my cock twitches with the way she stares at me.
There's a tiny smile playing on her lips as she takes it. Once she has it on her head, I hold back the groan at the sight of her. She looks good, too fucking good.
“Get on,” I grind out.
She gets onto the back and wraps her arms around me.
The feeling of her body pressed up against mine, the way her hands grip my shirt under my leather jacket, causes my heart to stutter.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Angry about how this girl affects me, I turn the bike around, bringing it back onto the road, and take off. I don’t take her home like I should. Instead, I force her to come on this ride with me.
We drive and drive until we’re away from the city.
I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m taking her, but the idea of just dropping her off at home and leaving doesn’t sit right with me.
Every second that ticks by, I become more aware of her body being pressed up against mine, her hands gripping my shirt under my leather jacket.
She shouldn’t be here with me right now. This isn’t something we do. We don’t hang out. We don’t spend time alone together.
We’re not friends.
We can’t be.
Even though I really fucking wish things could be different.
I want to believe that maybe there's a chance she could be ours, that by some miracle she could survive in our world.
And maybe she could. But then the sun goes down, and our desires come out to play; that's when the reality of why this can’t happen kicks in.
She deserves better than men who want to hunt her. She deserves someone who will treat her right, love her body, respect it, and make her feel cherished.
Not three monsters who want to see her in tears, hear her screams, and enjoy her struggle.
Not three monsters who want to tie her up, hear her beg, and take what they want from her.
Not three fucking monsters who want to use her like she only exists to please us and our sick little games.
She deserves better.
Will she find it? No.
Because we won’t allow it.
Is it fucked up? Yes. Is it cruel to never allow her to be with another man, even though we won’t allow ourselves to be with her? Also, yes.
Do we care? No.
Does any of it make sense? Absolutely not.
I may be the one who has been insisting we keep away from her, that we keep our poisonous ways from infecting her, but that doesn’t make me the good guy.
I’m selfish and greedy. I want what I want, and if I can’t have it, no one can. Not even Nola.
We will kill any man who tries to take what's ours. Any man who dares so much as look at her wrong will pay with their lives.
It’s twisted and unfair, and none of us could care less.
As we speed down the highway, weaving our way through the vehicles, Nola chooses now to test my fucking patience.
She’s been a lot bolder lately. At first, I thought it was cute. But now, all I want to do is bend her over this fucking bike and spank her ass. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, the kind of trouble she’s going to get herself into.
Her hand slowly creeps its way down until it’s resting over my cock. And when she finds it hard and pulsing behind my jeans, the little tease gives it a squeeze.
A growl rattles in my chest, my hands gripping the handles tighter.
With every inhale, my breathing starts to grow more ragged.
I hate how much she affects me. How much she pushes my boundaries and makes it harder to stick to my own rules.
Grinding my teeth, I try to keep my thoughts clear, but as she starts to stroke me over my jeans, my mind becomes hazy.
Practically vibrating, I feel my control on the verge of snapping. I pull off onto a side road.
I manage to make it down the road a ways before I pull over onto the side.
Turning the bike off, I lean it on its kickstand and get off.
“What’s wrong?” Lola asks as I start to pace, trying to settle my erratic breathing. I’m so close to losing every ounce of self-control I have when I’m with this girl.
Closing my eyes, I shake my head, reminding myself she’s off limits, to get a grip.
I hate losing control, I hate not having it. I hate that she makes me feel things!
I hate that I want what my parents have with her, but I’m too broken and fucked up in the head to be able to have that.
“Jasper?”
“Shut up!” I shout, whipping around to face her, my wild and hungry gaze landing on her eyes. “Just shut up, okay?”
She rolls her lips together, her brows furrowed as she stares at me, not an ounce of fear marring her beautiful face. If anything, she looks annoyed with me, and it fucking pisses me off.
“What?” I bark.
“You’re acting like I did something wrong. You’re the one who picked me up off the side of the road, demanding I get on your bike. You’re the one who insisted on driving me home, then brought me out into the middle of nowhere. So why are you pissed off at me?”
“Why?” I mock with a growl, knowing that my anger barely conceals my resolve that is beginning to crumble. “Because you infuriate me.”
“Me?” She gapes at me. “What the hell did I do?”
“You changed,” I snarl.
She blinks, shaking her head. “So? I’m allowed to grow. Jasper. I’m allowed to become a new person.”
“No, you’re fucking not!” I yell.
As she climbs off the bike, she has this sexy, little defiant look on her face that has my cock twitching. This girl… ooohh this fucking girl is going to be my downfall. I can feel it in my bones.
“Fuck you.” She points at me. “Fuck all of you. I’m sorry, I’m not this shy, meek little girl anymore.
I’m sorry I grew a backbone, that I stopped being such a pathetic, babbling loser.
Are you pissed off that I don’t blush when you look at me anymore?
Are you pissed that I no longer stumble over my words when I talk to you?
Or are you pissed that I know you three want me, but for some fucking reason won’t take me?
I’m here, Jasper.” She throws her arms out.
“Be a fucking man and take what you want.”
And there it goes, any resemblance of control I had just… vanishes.
In three long strides, I’m in front of her. My hand snaps out, wrapping around her neck.
Her eyes grow wide in fear, and I hate how much it turns me on.
Her pretty pink lips part in shock as I bring my face within an inch of hers.
“You don’t know what you're talking about.” My words come out low and controlled when inside, I’m anything but. “You’re a little brat, Nola. A fucking tease. You get off tempting us, but you have no fucking idea who you’re messing with.”
“Then show me,” her words come out as a choked gasp.
I grind my teeth together, shaking my head. “You don’t want that.”
“Show me.”
My hand tightens around her throat, my chest heaving with anger.
“You need to stop pushing, Nola,” I growl in her face.
“Stop what?” she asks, sucking in a breath.
I know she’s struggling to breathe, but she doesn’t ask me to release her. And for some reason, that pisses me off more.
“You’re playing with fire. You don’t know what you're asking for.”
“I. Do,” she manages to get out, but it’s barely more than a whisper.
I know I should let go of her, tell her to get on the fucking bike and take her home.
But I don’t.
Instead, I force her backwards. She trips over her own feet, but I don’t stop until she’s pressed against my bike.
“You want this?” I ask her, my movements frantic and jerky as I work the buttons of her shorts open with my free hand. “Are you that fucking desperate for me, Nola?”
“Yes,” she moans. She fucking moans!
I wiggle my hand down the front of her shorts until I’m cupping her pussy, pausing when I feel it. Her wetness has soaked through her panties.
My eyes widen in shock as my gaze finds hers again. Then I see it. Her blush is back, bright under the moonlight.
I let out a deprecating laugh. “You’re fucking drenched,” I accuse.
I rip my hand away from her, just so I can quickly hook my thumbs into her shorts and panties to shove them over her hips and down her lush thighs.
Before she even has time to blink, one hand is back around her throat while I slide the fingers of my other hand back between her wet folds, groaning as two of them easily glide right inside her.
She lets out the sweetest whimper, her pussy gripping my fingers like they’re trying to suck me inside her body.
“Since when did you become such a needy little slut, Nola?” I hum as I begin pumping my fingers in and out of her.
Seeing her like this, at my fucking mercy with her juices dripping down my fingers, has me tempted to just say ‘fuck it all’ and claim her right here, right fucking now.
Despite the fact that I have my hand wrapped around her throat, she fucking melts into my touch.
I don’t know what to make of this situation.
This isn’t the Nola I’ve known for so long. I hate how she’s changed because it just makes it so much harder to keep my hands off her.
Clearly, I’m failing immensely.
With every stroke of my fingers, I feel her growing wetter, her body starting to tremble.
She’s enjoying this. I’m getting her off, and there’s not a single bit of fear behind her eyes.
I both love it and hate it because I want her fear, yet the way she lets me mold her body has me wanting to see what else she’d let me do to her.
“Look at you,” I sneer, shaking my head. “You love this? You’re sick, Nola. I could snap your neck right now, end your life, yet your pussy is clamped so tight around my fingers that it’s like you can’t get enough. You are nothing but a nasty little cum catcher.”
Her eyes roll back as I press my thumb against her clit.
She looks so fucking stunning at my mercy.