Bound Together (Torn and Bound Duet 2)

Thank fuck nothing like that has happened since. Sure, we hang out and chill, but since we’ve left alcohol out of the equation, everyone has behaved.

I just can’t ever drink again.

Mia’s head falls back against Brayden’s chest as she sings her cute little heart out. He’s laughing, moving his hips with her, earning the stares of every jealous motherfucker in this party.

Hell, I guess I do need alcohol.

“Who wants a drink?” I ask.

All three of them nod.

“Great, Drew, make sure no fuckers like one of Brayden’s roofie buddies come over to dance with my girl.” I grab his arm, forcing him to break out of his serial killer stance to come stand on the other side of Mia. “Dance with the angel.”

He’s hesitant at first, his eyes darting to Bray, who nods, and then he starts working his hips in tandem with them.

Fucking hell.

I want to stare at the way the three of them move together so effortlessly. Mia is having the time of her life, all smiles. It’s hot as fuck seeing her sandwiched between two muscly hockey players. That’s a fantasy I am definitely beating off to the next time I’m alone.

Just a fantasy.

I love Mia, but I can’t exactly become un-gay. As long as I don’t act on my fantasies or obsess over them, it’s fine. I’m loyal to Mia until the end. Still, a guy can appreciate the hottest goddamn vision he’s ever seen.

Finally, I break away to head over to the kitchen that’s bustling with people grabbing drinks. I walk over to a stack of plastic cups, ready to mix up some Ashton specials, when someone crowds me from behind.

“When you dress like this, you think everyone believes you’re suddenly straight now?” a masculine voice growls. “We all know you still love dick.”

To punctuate his point, he rubs his dick against my ass.

“Travis, you have exactly two seconds to get the fuck away from me…”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll beat your fucking face in with a vodka bottle.”

“You know I like it rough,” he rumbles. “We were good in the sack because I’d let you do wild shit to me. I bet the angel is too delicate and breakable. I bet she doesn’t satisfy you like I did.”

Spinning around, I grab his neck and shove him against the cabinets. “Don’t fucking talk about her.”

“Aww,” he taunts. “Poor Ashton Carter. Defending his girlfriend’s honor from his ex-fuck. Is her ass as tight as mine?”

“Fuck off,” I snap, releasing him.

“Better hope that shit doesn’t bruise,” Travis sneers. “I wouldn’t want to have to tell the dean that his son is an abusive prick. Not only would you be kicked off the swim team, he might be forced to make you leave the school altogether.”

“What the hell do you want from me?”

“Well, I wanted you,” he snarls. “But then you were too good for me. Now, I’ll settle for you to quit the team. Your parents are loaded. You don’t need swimming like I do. You make me look bad.”

I laugh cruelly. “You do that all by yourself.”

Turning away from this dickhead, I set to making our drinks. He creeps up behind me, his hand going to my throat, this time catching me off guard. I struggle to shake him off.

“Just. Quit. The. Team,” he barks out.

I’m about to kick off the cabinets and slam him to the floor when he’s jerked away. Kurt fucking Cobain has him smashed against the wall, his fingers digging into the prick’s jaw.

“Stay the fuck away from my friend,” Brayden warns.

“Or you’ll kick my ass?” Travis taunts. “Fuck you, Murphy.”

Brayden’s massive hand tightens, making Travis cry out in pain. “I’ll take joy in breaking your jaw. They’ll have to wire it shut and you’ll never suck cock again.”

I walk up to Brayden, skimming my knuckle down his spine to calm him. “The asshole’s not worth it. It’s what he wants. Probably been waiting for this moment so he can tattle. Just ignore him.” I hook my finger through the belt loop of Brayden’s jeans and pull him back.

“Keep it up,” Brayden warns Travis. “Just keep it up.”

Travis rubs at his red face before pulling his cowboy bandana back up over his mouth. He storms away. Good fucking riddance.

“Come on,” I tell Brayden. “Let’s go dance before our lovers decide to make babies without us.”

Brayden laughs. “Those fucking eyebrows, man.”

We both chuckle as we make our way back over to Mia and Drew. She has her arms in the air as she dances in front of him, grinning up at him. I grab onto her hips, rubbing my dick against her round ass. Brayden surprises me when his hand fists the back of my shirt as he starts dancing behind me.

“It’s fucking hot,” Drew complains, pushing his mask up to rest on top of his head so he can swipe at the sweat. His blue eyes burn with lust. “Mia never runs out of energy.”