Chapter 5 #2
“Paxton and Blake,” she says, the lights on her cone a bright orange tonight.
“I have noticed that over the past few days, neither of you has been tempted by any of the other players or to break the rules with each other. You have made genuine progress in your relationship, and are deserving of a reward. The private suite is yours for the night. Use it as a means to take your relationship to the next level, and don’t break the rules. ”
Blake and Paxton exchange gleeful looks. “Can we take the snacks?” Blake asks, pointing to the untouched champagne, fruit, and dessert platters next to the tub.
Hey, priorities.
_____________________
The rundown he and Pax get from Rachel regarding the private suite is not what Blake is expecting.
By the time she stops talking, he’s fully convinced that the show’s entire premise of “making them better people,” is a total farce, and that the producers want nothing more than for either Blake or Pax to bend over for the other tonight.
That’s fine — that’s pretty much what he wants, too.
The snacks do come with, and one of the PAs is nice enough to pop the champagne and pour it out before he leaves.
Rachel gives them the nickel tour, pointing out drawers full of various types of protection, lube, and even toys (brand-new-in-box, Blake’s relieved to see).
There’s a soaking tub almost as big as the Jacuzzi he and Pax just left, a rain shower, and an enormous bed with an incredible mattress.
She also tells them that they’ll only be “charged” by Ava for the worst offense committed tonight.
Meaning, if they have sex, the cost of that will be the only thing deducted, not the kissing before or after, or the handjobs or oral leading up to it.
Rachel is stoic and blunt while she details these things, and Blake mostly tries not to let his mouth hang open in shock.
Far as he’s concerned, this room is basically a free-fuckin’-pass, and he intends to make the most of it.
The producers know they’re on board, that they don’t have to be manipulated into giving it up in the private suite.
Yet, they’re still encouraged by Rachel to play the game, to ensure plenty of moments are filmed where they appear hesitant to make contact with each other, where it looks like they’re torn about what to do.
Sure, sure, Blake says, hustling Rachel out the door and slamming it shut behind her before realizing that here, absolutely nothing comes that easily.
On the one hand, no camera person will be joining them overnight.
On the other, before they can be left alone, a staged “entrance” has to be recorded.
One where Blake and Pax walk into the room and act surprised and thrilled while running around “discovering” all the things Rachel already pointed out.
They oblige and film that mess in one take, and Blake thinks he’s pretty damn convincing, barely even looking at the camera lens more than once.
Okay, three times max. Whatever, he’s going to be alone with Pax.
Well, as alone as they can be with cameras mounted in multiple corners of both rooms, but who’s counting?!
Once every last member of the crew is finally gone, there’s a moment where Blake and Pax just stare at each other, unsure of what to do.
Blake’s pretty sure they’re on the same page, but maybe Pax does want to be good.
Maybe he’s gotten really into following the rules, is looking at it like a personal challenge, or whatever.
Blake can get behind that, too, if that’s the case.
Hey, Ava’s rules have done a lot for him so far, no one can deny that.
“Pax,” he says carefully, one hand out, like Pax is some kind of spooked cat that’s gonna bolt if Blake gets too close too quickly. It’s not the worst analogy, Blake’s sure seen him seek out patches of sun like a cat. Oh, and the way he contorts himself doing yoga in the mornings —
“What?” Paxton replies, and only then does Blake realize he’s zoned out, caught up imagining Pax in various poses and all the ways he could insert himself into each one. Might be time to admit that the self-deprivation is getting to him.
Or he could keep on doing what he’s doing, because now Pax is pulling himself up onto the bed and crossing his legs into that “hip-opening pose” he’s so fond of and —
“You’ve got a little, uh—” Paxton mimes wiping drool from the corner of his mouth with a poorly-concealed smirk.
“And here I was trying to be considerate,” Blake replies with a snort, crossing his arms and swaying back and forth where he stands.
“Being thoughtful towards your dirty little sex addiction and recent recovery. Wouldn’t wanna knock you off the wagon or anything.
” He punctuates his mockery by stripping off the robe he put on when they exited the hot tub, as Paxton shakes his head up at him, eyes crinkling in amusement.
“You are very lucky you’re so attractive,” he says.
“I was only half-being a dick, you know,” Blake offers, standing in front of Paxton and working his hands under Pax’s own robe.
“Was serious about the part where I don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.
For any reason. Happy to just be alone with you for a while.
And, you know, to share a bed that one of us isn’t falling half-off of all night long. ”
“This mattress is very comfortable,” Pax agrees, patting it appreciatively.
“I wouldn’t mind a bath either. I know we were just—” He waves in the general direction of the outside hot tub.
“—but we weren’t alone.” He scoots off of the bed, letting his robe drop alongside Blake’s to puddle on the floor, his swimsuit following right after.
Pax steps out of it and keeps walking with ease, like that display wasn’t the the single hottest thing Blake’s stood by and watched someone do.
Like Pax doesn’t have one the best asses Blake’s ever seen walking away, period.
He scurries after him like his feet are on fire, entering the bathroom to find Pax already making himself comfortable in the tub as the water sprays down on top of him, faucet going full blast. He looks damn good like that and he knows it, the cocky bastard.
Arms slung over the sides of the marble, legs splayed wide, goddamn bedroom eyes laser-focused on Blake as he strides through the door.
“Come here,” Pax says, and Blake doesn’t need to be told twice.
Already naked, he steps over the edge of the tub and seats himself directly in Paxton’s lap.
The cascading water from the tap pours down his back, hot and relaxing, and Blake adjusts himself so that he’s comfortable.
Pax’s arms wrap around his waist and his own hands slide up and down Pax’s toned chest, just enjoying the feel of him, the luxurious idea that they can have this.
What they’re doing is technically off-limits, but it’s also almost to be expected. Friggin’ Ariana and Dani spent sixteen k during their one-night stay here, which Blake is fairly sure translates out to mean “mutual tongue stuff”.
Anyway, he’s long past caring about money. He and Pax have done the work. They’ve shared, they’ve bonded, they’ve grown as people. In Blake’s opinion, they’ve earned the opportunity to get physical, to see if they’re compatible and to grow their physical bond, too.
He says so out loud.
“I agree,” Paxton tells him, when Blake’s finished more or less pleading his case.
The tub is nearly full around them by this point, and Blake slides off of Paxton’s thighs to curl up at his side.
They don’t have nearly as much room here as they did in the outdoor Jacuzzi, but Blake’s enjoying the peace and solitude of the private space much more.
He aimlessly tips a bath bomb out from a basket on the ledge, letting it splash into the water just above their knees.
They both watch it fizz and turn the water a foamy peachy color. Smells like peach, too.
“We should have sex,” Paxton suggests casually.
“Yeah? You think so?”
“I do.”
“Well, we’re on the same page, then.” Blake’s quiet for a moment, and then anxiously adds, “Should we — ?” In response, Paxton laughs, low and dark, before reaching out to grab a loofah and some body wash from the same ledge as the bath bombs.
He lathers up the loofah before hooking an arm around Blake’s ribs and hauling him over into his lap, this time back-to-chest.
“Whoa, hey!” Blake flounders, splashing water everywhere and sloshing a good amount onto the floor as he copes with being manhandled.
Not that he dislikes it or anything, which Paxton seems to know, smiling into the skin of his neck before pressing several reassuring kisses there.
“Just relax,” he says, encouraging Blake to rest his head back on his shoulder and stop fussing.
Pax’s legs bracket Blake’s hips, squeezing slightly in a way that can’t be anything but a promise.
When Blake does chill out and settle down, Paxton rewards him by using the loofah to soap him up.
He runs the scratchy sponge all over Blake’s arms, across his chest and stomach, and as far down each leg as he can reach.
He cleans around his groin perfunctorily, and resists Blake’s wiggling attempts to make him take things further.
He pushes Blake forward a little and scrubs his back thoroughly while Blake hugs his own legs, even venturing down into his crack, the tease. Pax even pauses to knead Blake’s shoulders for a bit, and then works on the knot he always has jacking up the base of his spine.
“Do you do this with all your orgy partners?” Blake mumbles softly from where his head is resting on his knees, his eyelids heavy from the pure bliss of being touched with such unassuming care and affection.
“No,” Paxton denies firmly, though his tone carries a note of amusement. “Just those I know I’d like to have in my bed again.”
“Aww, Pax, you flirtin’ with me? You should know, I’m not that kind of girl.”