by K Webster
She laughs at his words as she exits the bathroom.
“Do you think Brayden could fit in here with us?” I ask as I soap down my front, my eyes skimming over Ashton’s lean, but still muscular frame.
“We’ll make him fit.” He smirks. “Just like we all fit in that bed.”
His mouth is twisted into a devious grin that I crave to taste. Leaning forward, I kiss his naughty lips. It’s a sweet kiss, nothing more. We’ve come and are sated, but I just wanted to taste him.
Because I can.
Because we’ve agreed this is okay.
And it feels pretty fucking right.
He nips at my lips as he soaps me down. I’ll be down to fuck the moment my dick is ready to play again. The idea of being with Ashton that way excites me. Just like I felt with Mia. This whole thing feels pretty damn good. Weird as fuck, but fantastic.
“Feed me before you fuck me, Coach,” Ashton says, nipping at my bottom lip, a move that does wake my dick back up. “Pretty please.”
“You’re fucking spoiled,” I playfully tease.
“You like spoiling me, Daddy.” He can’t even say that shit with a straight face before he loses it to hysterical laughing.
I turn the water off and step out of the shower, chuckling at his words as I grab a towel and throw one to Ashton. After we’ve both dried off, we wrap our towels around our torsos and head out to get dressed. I hear a door slam shut and assume it’s Mia leaving, so I’m shocked when I step out of the bathroom and find Curtis standing in the doorway of Ashton’s bedroom.
Fuck.
I freeze, unable to move or speak. Ashton squeezes past me, giving my ass a smack before he also screeches to a halt.
“What the hell did you do?” Curtis growls at his son.
It guts me that it’s automatically Ashton’s fault. It’s not. This was us, not him. A group effort, not Ashton being the villain and dragging us all to the dark side with him.
“Curtis, let me explain—” I start, choking out my words.
“I came on to him,” Ashton snaps, cutting me off. “That’s what I do, Pops. I swing my dick around, hoping it lures in all your friends and colleagues just to fuck with your mind.”
Curtis’s face turns crimson and his hazel eyes harden. “I told you not to mess with him. He’s a coach and you’re the fucking dean’s son, for crying out loud! You know how bad this looks on me?”
Ashton, God love him, doesn’t even flinch, though I know it hurts that his father sees him as anything but the perfect, hilarious, kind man he is.
“Don’t worry, Dad, I didn’t fuck him and he didn’t fuck me. Looks like you stepped in just in time to intervene.”
I scrub my palm over my face. “We—”
“I don’t want to hear about what sort of shit my son has roped you into. I get it. He can be persistent when he wants something, but don’t worry about your reputation here. My son is probably already thinking about his next conquest, one that I’m sure will embarrass me even more than this.” Curtis turns on his heel, storming out of the room.
Snagging up my discarded jeans, I throw them on and chase him to the door. “Curtis, wait.”
He flings open the door but turns his angry gaze on me.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I didn’t mean for you to find out that way.” Or at all.
“Keep your dick in your pants, Thompson, or we’re going to have big problems. Consider it a warning. I may not want to report this shit because it’ll bring severe shame down on me and this university, but it doesn’t mean someone else won’t notice and do it anyway.” Curtis scowls. “For your sake, I hope it was a one-time thing and my son has already moved on to the next shiny toy.”
I open my mouth to defend Ashton, but Curtis storms away. I shut the door and stalk back to the bedroom to find Ashton pacing, his face twisted in fury.
“Ashton,” I growl, gripping his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “I’m sorry.”
He frowns, looking just like his father. “Why? It’s my fault.”
“None of this is your fault,” I rumble. “It’s unfortunate he saw what he did, but it doesn’t change anything about us. Only that we need to change the fucking locks.”
Ashton laughs. “I do feel a little bit happy that I ruined his day. Sorry you were a casualty.”
“He doesn’t know you like I do—like we do. You’re fucking amazing, Ash. Hilarious and hot and affectionate.” I give him a kiss. “And loyal. Fuck your dad for not seeing it.”
And in a very vulnerable, un-Ashton like move, he hugs me tight, like he’s afraid if he lets me go, I’ll disappear forever.
It does something to me.
Wraps tentacles of protection around the place he’s carved inside my heart.
I may be royally screwed as far as the dean’s concerned, but I won’t let it take the driver’s seat in my mind. No, my concern lies with Ashton. He doesn’t need to be made to feel like he’s a cyclone that wrecks through everyone’s worlds with no regard to the consequences.
“Ready for me to feed you, boyfriend?”
He laughs. “If it includes ice cream, I’m so in.”
“Whatever you want,” I say, nipping at his ear.
And I mean it.
It feels really good to make someone like Ashton Carter happy.
Really good.
I shake my head as I walk out of class reading Ashton’s text.
Ashton: Is your dick ready?
Me: Depends. For what?
Ashton: My mouth.
Fucking Ashton. It’s thrilling to know that he’s serious and I’m allowed to do this with him because we’re doing this. We’re really doing this. My parents will probably shit bricks when they discover I’m dating three people all at once, but I can’t find it in me to worry too much over that now.
Because I have them all.
Mia, Drew, and Ashton.
Me: What sane man ever said no to a blowjob? Of course I’m fucking ready.
Ashton: My blowjobs are the best. Mia just got home and we’re discussing with Drew who gives the best head. You’re the only one who can answer this question. After I blow your mind.
Me: Awfully confident. Have you seen Mia’s lips? Fucking swollen and perfect. And Drew’s tongue? The bar is high, man.
Ashton: Tongue, lips… yeah, yeah, yeah. I can guarantee neither of them will suck you down their throat the way I can. Oh, Mia says hi and that this is awfully graphic for text.
Me: It’s hot. Hey, beautiful.
Ashton: Hey yourself.
Me: That was for Mia.
Ashton: Sorry, she’s too busy kissing Drew now. I guess it’ll have to be for me instead.
Me: Fine, it’s for you too. See you in a few.
I shove the phone into my pocket, grinning. The thought of Ashton blowing me while Drew and Mia watch is almost too much to take. I’m looking forward to a blowjob competition. I’ll be the true winner in the end.
“Brayden!” a high-pitched voice calls out.
Groaning, I turn to face the person. Sasha. Lovely. “Oh, hey.”
“How’ve you been?” Sasha asks, touching my forearm. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you since the auction, but the sorority keeps me so busy.”
“I’m good. Just headed home.” Well, not mine…
“I could walk you,” she offers.
“It’s fine. What’s up?”
Her pink lips purse, clearly annoyed at being turned down. “I just wanted to apologize.”
“For?”
“For what happened at the auction.” Her brows knit together. “I’m sure that was embarrassing in front of everyone. Your team. Coach. The dean. I know how private you are about certain aspects of your dating life.”
“What was embarrassing?” Jesus. Did someone see Drew and me holding hands at the auction under the table? “And what aspects are you talking about?”
Her nose scrunches up. “Ashton bidding on you, silly. Everyone knows he’s gay.” She studie
s me for a moment. “People might wonder about you too.”
I open my mouth to speak, but she continues.
“No one is going to hold it against you if you don’t go on the date. He probably just wanted to humiliate me and his father. Ashton’s like that. I’ve known him since I was a teenager. He’s just rotten.”
“Sasha,” I growl, my voice laced with warning. “You can stop worrying because it was fine. Ashton and I had a great date.”
Her eyes widen comically. “Ew, you poor thing. He actually made you go through with it? If he put his hands on you, we can report this—”
“Stop,” I snap. “Leave him alone.”
My harsh words have her recoiling. “Brayden…”
I’m about to bail, annoyed with the way she talks about Ashton, when I see him.
Not Ashton.
Travis.
Rage builds up inside me hot and quick. I take off running in his direction, dumb Sasha long forgotten. Travis sees me coming and sprints down the corridor. He skids to a halt and darts down a hall. I run after him, turning the corner just in time to see him slip into the restroom. I rush toward it and fling open the door. My chest heaves from exertion as I seek him out. A stall door starts to close, but I stop it with my arm.
“What the fuck, man?” he snarls.
I shove my way into the stall, crowding him against the partition wall. He groans when I press my forearm against his windpipe, leaning in to glower at him.
“You think it’s okay to fucking slash Ashton’s tires? To frame him for drugs? To threaten and try to poison him?” I press harder, making him wheeze. “I should beat your fucking ass for that shit!”
“For Ashton? He doesn’t deserve your loyalty,” he hisses.
“Fuck you. You don’t get to say what Ashton deserves.”
“If you’re going to beat me up, defending your boy’s honor, then do it.” He laughs cruelly. “That’s right. You can’t. That would get you kicked off the hockey team and probably out of this school.”
This little bitch.
“Don’t text Ashton. Don’t look at Ashton. Don’t fucking touch Ashton.” I snarl at him. “I’d give that shit up just to watch you piss your pants as I kicked your goddamn teeth in.” I release him and smack his cheek. “I’m not fucking playing with you. Fuck with Ashton and it’s guaranteed, I will fuck with you.”
I push out of the bathroom stall, eager to get the hell away from that snake before I lose control. As much as I want to kill him, I can’t. I’ll get in trouble. He doesn’t need to know that, though. I want him to have felt my wrath and the seriousness of my words. As soon as I exit the bathroom, I nearly knock Sasha over.
“Brayden, we’re not through discussing this,” she whines.
“Later,” I grind out.
I’m pissed the entire way home. Practically fuming by the time I reach Ashton and Drew’s. When the key Drew gave me doesn’t fit in the lock, I have a moment of panic.
What’s happening?
For a brief moment, my insecurities swell up inside me. They don’t want me anymore. Then, as fast as those thoughts appear, they vanish.
Ashton promised a blowjob.
And if there’s anything I know about Ashton, it’s he never jokes about a sexual promise.
I bang on the door. Mia answers with a smile. Pulling her to me, I kiss her supple lips, needing to feel like I matter and belong here. She returns the kiss with urgency, calming the storm that was brewing inside of me.
When we pull apart, I let out a heavy sigh. “I thought you guys locked me out.”
“Silly boy,” she says, swatting at my chest. “You’re one of us.”
“We’re locking Dad out,” Ashton says as I walk in with Mia, shutting the door behind me.
“Oh boy,” I groan.
Drew exits the kitchen, looking fucking hot in sweatpants and no shirt. “He saw something he shouldn’t have.”
“Fuck,” I hiss. “What happened?”
Drew stops to kiss me. “He walked into the bedroom as Ashton and I were leaving the bathroom in nothing but our towels.”
“We were still horny as fuck because Mia is insatiable,” Ashton tattles, “and were discussing how next time we’re going to cram the four of us in there when that cockblocking asshole waltzed in.”
I drop my bag on the floor, grabbing Ashton’s hand. He threads his fingers with mine. “What did he say?” I demand, searching Ashton’s eyes. “What did he do?”
“Blamed me, of course,” Ashton says, a dry laugh barking from him.
Hurt. Pained. Sad.
I pull him to me, hugging him tight. “Fuck that asshole.”
“That’s what I said,” Drew grunts.
“Me too,” Mia chimes in.
“So you changed the locks?” I ask, unable to break free of the hold I have on Ashton. Sometimes he’s so broken, I just want to keep him held together.
“Can’t have him trying to get peep shows when we have our bj wars,” Ashton says, meeting my stare with a shit-eating grin.
I kiss his stupidly hot mouth. “You’re so damned confident you’re going to win.”
“I know my worth in this world,” he jokes.
His comment rubs me the wrong way. Ashton is a fuck more than a good lay. I cup his jaw, leaning my forehead against his. “You’re worth a whole lot to us.”
Mia and Drew both agree.
“Come on,” Ashton says. “I’m tired of whipping their asses at NHL 20. Play with me. I’ll suck you off later.”
I leave them to take a quick shower in Drew’s bathroom and then change into some basketball shorts, bypassing my shirt altogether. When I return to the living room, Drew and Mia are stretched out on the sofa, cuddled up. His fingers stroke the bare skin on her thigh just below her shorts. Ashton already has the game started and is sitting on the coffee table. His eyes skim down my bare torso and he licks his lips.
“Not fair for you to distract me,” he complains.
I chuckle as I sit next to him, our thighs touching, and pick up the controller. “If I want my dick sucked, I have to woo you.”
He palms me over my shorts. “If you want your dick sucked before the game instead of after, all you have to do is ask.”
“If you keep touching me like that, I won’t be asking,” I growl, leaning in to kiss his neck. “I’ll be taking.”
He sets the controller down and slides to the floor, coming between my thighs. “You keep talking to me like you’re going to destroy my throat with your dick and I’ll give you whatever you goddamn please.”
I lift my hips as he draws my shorts off my ass and down my thighs. My heavy erection bobs out, leaking precum already. His devilish, starved grin does me in as he flicks his tongue across the tip.
Because I can’t help myself, I roughly fist his hair. With Drew, he’s always so hungry for my dick. When Mia sucked me off, she was so sweet and innocent about it.
Ashton, though…
I can tell he’s going to try and rule me from his knees.
He grips my cock, stroking it lazily. “Ready to die by dick sucking overload?”
“I mean, are there better ways to go because I’m not sure there are.” I grin at him until he wraps his mouth around my cock.
A guttural groan escapes me as his tongue lashes with purpose against my shaft. He pulls all the way off, licks the tip, and then slides down for more. Way more. I nearly come off the coffee table when my dick pushes down his throat.
So fucking tight.
So hot.
Holy shit.
Before I can embarrass the hell out of myself, he pulls all the way off, gives me a flirty wink, and then dives back down. My grip tightens in his hair. This time, when he starts to pull back in that teasing way of his, I yank him back down, groaning at the way his nose tickles the hairs at the base of my cock.
“You want to fucking win,” I grit out, pulling his hair up and down to dictate the pleasure I want from him, “you gotta earn it.”
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He makes a gagging sound that feels really fucking good on my dick. I ease up on my grip, allowing him to come up for air, and then I buck my hips up, eager for more. His mouth works its magic again, taking me deep in his throat. It’s fucking hot to see slobber run down his chin each time I allow him to breathe.
“Swallow me down, baby,” I murmur. “It feels good.”
He hums around my dick just as his hand rubs my balls that are slick from his saliva. I curse at the abrupt way I come. Cum jets down his throat and it’s the most divine feeling. With each pulse of my dick, his throat constricts. Once I’m spent, he slides off my dick. I take a moment to admire this handsome guy. His lips are wet and swollen, hazel eyes half-lidded. Dark hair is mussed from my mishandling and his chin is wet. Super fucking hot.
A smug grin curls his lips up. “Who won?”
He knows he did.
Just wait until Drew learns to deep throat like that. I know my best friend. He’ll compete until he’s the fucking champion. Rather than giving Ashton what he wants, I shrug.
“It’s a tie,” I say with a smirk, dipping to kiss his mouth. “Guess you guys will have to continue to battle it out.”
“Sonofabitch,” Ashton states. “You play dirty, man. It’s a good thing I play dirtier.”
Mia flips through every damn Netflix show she can find before settling on something that’s in fucking subtitles. Ashton groans and Drew chuckles.
“We need a bigger couch,” I say, twirling a long strand of Mia’s hair.
She’s curled up in my lap with her feet in Ashton’s lap as he gives them a massage. Drew’s on the other end of the couch, his arm around Ashton. We barely fucking fit.
Mia’s phone buzzes and she reads the text, groaning. Since I can see, I read it too.
Mom: A reminder that the California Actors’ League Winter Soiree is in two weeks. I expect you to be there. I’ve ordered a stunning ice-blue Vera Wang ball gown in your size. That is, if that’s still your size. If not, call Dayna about some weight loss supplements. I can’t make a change this close to the event.
“What a bitch,” I grumble.