14 - Grayson
Grayson
The guy has his hands on her ass. Again.
His palms have been roaming her body for five songs. And yes, I know how long it’s been. I hate that I do.
He takes his hat and turns it backward so that he can whisper something into her ear. Avery laughs and leans into him beneath the pulsing blue bar lights. He’s tall with dark hair and must know Becca, considering she walks by and smacks him on the shoulder.
Avery has to know the guy is a loser. He looks like he sells crypto to college kids.
I take a long pull from my beer and look back to Ryan, our second-string defender, who’s yapping about his sister’s wedding. At least, I think.
Honestly, I can’t focus on anything but the redhead across the bar.
Because half an hour ago, Avery Holt looked me dead in the face and proposed sex as if she were negotiating a business contract.
Then, after I turned her down for very valid reasons, she disappeared into the crowd with a pat on my shoulder.
And now she’s making her way through every guy in this bar out of pure spite.
First, the rookie. Then the finance bro in the quarter zip. Now this washed-up frat douche with wandering hands.
I cut my teammate off mid-sentence, mumbling a half-hearted goodbye and heading toward our team’s table in the back.
My gaze darts toward Avery again, and I grit my teeth.
Because now, she’s kissing some other guy.
He’s the first one she’s kissed, and up until now, I was pretty confident she was bluffing. Turns out, I drastically underestimated her.
And tonight, I can’t intervene, because this time, she’s stone cold sober. It just pisses me off more.
I don’t know why I care. I was right to turn her down. It was a crazy plan. Sleeping together would be a colossal mistake, even if the idea of it has now lodged itself in the deepest parts of my brain.
Soft skin under me, legs hitched around my waist while I …
I almost choke on my beer.
I need to leave. Now.
But before I can go, I spot Avery heading for the exit with lucky guy number six in tow.
My grip tightens around my beer bottle, a tight knot forming in my gut as I sit with the fact that she’s actually going to leave with him.
I should let her go. That’s the sane option. Let Avery go home with that guy, go home by myself, and pretend tonight never happened. Instead, I pull out my phone.
I flex my fingers while tapping my phone against my leg, trying to stop myself from making a huge mistake. I fail.
Me: Ditch him. Back hallway. Five Minutes.
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing right now, but in a haze, I end up in the back of the bar, leaning against the wall.
My foot bounces against the floor until I force myself to steady it.
I don’t know if she will get the message. Hell, even if she does, there’s no guarantee she’ll come.
Do I want her to come?
And now my head’s in the gutter.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I squint my eyes closed and lean my head back on the wall, trying to maintain some semblance of composure while figuring out what I plan to do if she actually shows up.
“Well, this feels incredibly serial killer-y.”
I open my eyes.
Avery’s leaning against the hallway entrance with her arms crossed over her chest, scarlet waves falling over one shoulder while the low light catches the gold shimmer on her eyelids.
Her lipstick is slightly smudged now, from making out with that random guy, and the thought of her lips on his almost snaps the last thread of my sanity clean in half.
My eyes flick to my phone screen. “It hasn’t been five minutes.”
Her mouth falls open. “Well, excuse me for being efficient.” She pushes off the wall. “I can leave if you want. I’m sure Jeremy’s still out front.”
Jeremy. Of course, that guy has a stupid fucking name like Jeremy. Jealousy punches through me so hard it catches me off guard.
I take a slow step toward her. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
“Do what?” Her throat bobs.
I move before she’s done speaking. After two long strides, she backs up instinctively, eyes widening as I crowd into her space.
“Grayso–”
I hook two fingers into the waistband of her skirt, moving her backward until her body is pushing through the door to the bathroom.
Her eyes stay focused on me, but I can feel the way her body tenses with anticipation.
Once we’re both inside, I lock the door so that we’re alone with the dim lighting and muffled bass vibrating through the walls.
“Chaos,” I murmur, stepping closer until she’s backed into the wall. “Have you had anything to drink tonight?”
I see defiance flash in her eyes, but I reach up, swirling a strand of her hair around my finger, and it dissolves into smoke.
She shakes her head once.
“Nothing?” My gaze drags over her face, taking in her flushed cheeks.
“Just water.”
“Good.” I brace one hand beside her head against the wall, lowering my voice. “Because I want you to have a clear head when I make you come.”
She swallows, and her breathing picks up.
My eyes trail over her, and this time, I don’t bother to disguise the fact that I am absolutely checking her out.
Her cleavage spills out of the top that dips low enough to make me wonder if she’s even wearing a bra.
Her legs seem to stretch for miles despite the fact that even with her heels, she’s shorter than me.
She tsks, bringing my attention back to her lips. A smirk flashes across her face, then she whispers, “You mean, if you make me come.”
A low growl tears itself out of my throat as I slam my lips to hers.
All the tension from the last several weeks detonates the second our mouths collide. She grabs the front of my shirt hard, pulling me closer while I slide a hand around her waist and pin her to me.
Fuck.
Her mouth.
Avery kisses the same way she argues. Aggressive. Reckless. Like she’s trying to win something. But I meet her every step of the way, my tongue sliding into her mouth and tasting her.
“Still think this is a bad idea?” She breathes between kisses.
“It’s an awful idea,” I mutter.
Our mouths collide again.
Maybe it is a bad idea, but that doesn’t stop me from sliding my hands under her ass and carrying her to the counter along the opposite wall across from the sinks and mirrors. I set her down, hands sliding up her sides while her legs part, giving me room to step between them.
She’s kissing me like she wants to devour me alive. And I don’t know who the fuck I am right now because I might just let her.
“Chaos,” I warn when her nails scrape down the back of my neck.
“What?” She asks innocently, even as her mouth drags across my jaw.
Irritation bleeds straight into desire. I shove her skirt up her thighs until I can see the black lace thong barely covering her, already damp with her arousal. Her sharp inhale is loud against my throat.
I groan against her lips. “Is that what I think it is?”
She nods.
My cock strains harder against my zipper, knowing that she wore those panties for me. I’m impatient and desperate to feel her skin everywhere, so I shove her shirt and bra down until her breasts spill out over the top, inches away from my face.
I lean down and drag my tongue around one nipple while my hand closes over the other, teasing until it tightens into a hard peak beneath my palm.
“Shit, that feels so good.” She braces herself on her arms.
“Is that what you needed all along?” My hands drift down to her thighs. “My mouth on your tits to make you want to shower me with compliments.”
Her head jolts up, eyes darkening. “I thought you said you were going to make me come?”
She takes a handful of my hair and tugs my head back, leaning in to place wet, open-mouthed kisses along the column of my neck. Our mouths crash together again, messy and hungry, neither of us giving the other an inch.
I glide my hands up the sides of her thighs, under her skirt, until my fingers connect with lace.
She lifts her hips while I wrap the waistband around my hands.
I tug, sliding them down her legs and shoving them in my pocket.
Her eyes track the movement the entire time, a silent question in her eyes.
“Just taking what I was promised.” My hands close around her knees, sliding them further apart. “A matching set,” I add.
My eyes dart down, focusing on the folds of her pussy already soaked for me. She spreads her legs wider, until her skirt has ridden up so high it’s nonexistent.
Holy fuck.
The way she bares herself to me without a second of hesitation is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.
I slide my hands inside her thighs, closing the distance to her pussy, but pull back at the last second. She sighs in frustration when I do it again.
“Tell me what you want,” I murmur against her ear.
“I want to come.” She pleads, her voice breathy.
I click my lips together. “Not good enough.”
My fingers drift up and across her clit with the faintest amount of contact. She jerks toward me.
My other hand wraps around her chin, drawing her face to mine, until we’re staring into each other’s eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Chaos.”
Her eyes heat when she realizes what I want.
I want to hear her say it. Out loud. That she asked for this. That she needs my touch. That it’s me she wants inside her right now.
She bites her lip, hesitating slightly before giving in.
“Just fucking touch me.” She wraps her hand around mine, dragging it from her chin down to the slickness between her legs. “I need you inside me.”
My hand cups her, fingers sliding along her slit toward her opening. I can’t decide where to look, my eyes flicking between her perfect pussy and her eyes, hooded with desire.
When I finally push one finger into her, she throws her head back, her hips moving with me. My thumb traces soft circles against her clit while my mouth closes back around her nipple.
I lose myself in the rhythm of it, in the breathy little sounds she makes and the way she presses against me as if even inside her isn’t close enough.