Something in his eyes spark. Lust. I study one blue orb, then the other, while he watches me silently. If I hadn’t already heard him speak, maybe I’d be worried he’s gone mute over the years.
I lean forward, teasing his jaw with my lips. They graze his smooth skin lightly, and I feel him let out a harsh breath. Pulling back, I whisper, “Is this what you wanted when you brought me here? It’s okay if it is.”
He murmurs, “Christ,” under his breath, his hands gripping my hips harder and rolling his pelvis into me.
One of my hands cups his jaw, my thumb stroking dangerously close to his bottom lip. Instead of making that move, I move my palm down the column of his throat until it’s wrapped around the front of his n
eck. As soon as I squeeze, I feel his cock turn to steel against me.
Pressing my pelvis down, I lean forward again until my lips hover over his. “Is this why you brought me down here and away from your friends? Didn’t want to share Chaos?”
He exhales through his nose. “I thought you said you didn’t want to be called that.”
I shrug, acting like I don’t care. Even if Chaos is what I became in the long run, I still don’t like being called that. Not by him. Not by anyone. “I’m just giving you what you want,” I taunt him, squeezing his throat a little more.
He tips his head back, giving me more access. He doesn’t tell me to stop, his hands barely even move on my hips. He only stares at me through his lashes like he’s trying to figure me out.
Good luck.
“Who said I want this?” he asks, his throat vibrating against my palm with each word.
I crack a grin, wiggling in his lap to emphasize the size of the erection demanding to be let out. “Your cock does seeing as it’s rock hard right now.”
He arches upward, not showing an ounce of shame at his body’s reaction. “You climbed onto my lap and started grinding on me. What the fuck did you think would happen?”
My grin widens as I lean forward, my lips dangerously close to his. One movement, a single jolt forward, and they’d be touching. I can feel the way his breath caresses my parted mouth and I try not to let it get to me, but it does.
Once upon a time, I pictured this moment.
Kissing Aiden Griffith.
But I’d long since given up that little fairytale when I realized Cinderella wouldn’t have gotten Prince Charming without her fairy godmother, and fairy godmothers don’t exist. As far as I’m concerned, neither do the Prince Charmings of the world. The books my mother read me were all made up bullshit to give children false hope that finding love and happiness would be easy.
There are footsteps coming fast down the stairs before a deep voice says, “Hey, Griff, the guys are ordering— Oh, shit.”
“We’re a little busy,” I tell the new guy in the room, looking over my shoulder and silently groaning when I recognize DJ from class.
“I can see that.” His gaze moves from me to his unmoving teammate still pinned by the throat. With a small, amused grin, he holds up his hands and starts backing toward the stairs. “It’s about time, Griff, that’s all I’m saying.”
With that, our mutual acquaintance disappears.
Chapter Three
Ivy
When it’s just us, I return my focus to the boy I used to make faces at for picking his nose and scratching himself in public. He never seemed to care what people thought, and it doesn’t seem like that’s changed any now.
“Was that necessary?” he asks in a low tone that lacks offense over his friend being sent away.
Biting down on my bottom lip to fight a smile, I raise my eyebrows. “Would you prefer he stayed and watched?”
I can feel him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath my touch. “What would he be watching exactly?”
Reaching between us, I use one of my hands to palm between his legs. He groans when I rub his hard length, stroking it up and down over his jeans. “It seems DJ thinks it’s been a while for you. Maybe you were trying to kill two birds with one stone tonight by bringing me here. You know what the storybooks leave out when the knight saves the damsel?” My lips curve wickedly. “They get their dick sucked in the end as a way to say thank you.”
His eyelids flutter as he arches his hips into my hand. “Why do you think I have an ulterior motive?”
“Because everybody does,” I state matter-of-factly.