The Substitute (The Bros Series Book 1)

by Xavier Neal

  Me: Absolutely.

  All of a sudden, the video conference option on my phone begins to flash.

  Fuck. I was just expecting a photo. Quickly, I scramble to pause the show, loosen my tie to give the illusion I’m relaxed, and try to casually answer the call.

  I can still do this. I can still end whatever has happened between us. I just need to see the mark first. Maybe that can be my segue.

  Ainsley’s beautiful face appears on the screen. She instantly offers me a warm smile. The greeting while innocent, eradicates not only the lingering trepidation, but my original intention of ending everything. “Hey Teach…”

  “Hey,” I nervously state back. “Surprised you um…you wanted to chat. Figured you’d be out or something.”

  She leans back against the wall from where she’s sitting on what I assume is her bed. Behind her I can see the corner of a movie poster, though I can’t make out which, and to the side the edge of a window. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask me out, so where would I go?”

  Her retort makes me smirk. Guess the flirting I witnessed this morning was just one sided. Needless to say, I spent most of the day silently fuming over the asshole for touching her. It doesn’t matter it was just her hand. What matters is the only man who should be touching her, fucking her, dating her….is me. Shit. No. I can’t be this possessive. It’s wrong. Illogical. Fuck. How does she keep doing this to me?

  “Friends?” I try to push past my selfish thoughts. “Out with friends?”

  Ainsley smiles again and for a moment the entire world stops. “I’ve got two friends, Nate.”

  Even the way my name sounds coming off her lips in a casual conversation is perfect.

  “Sloane who is definitely a fan of trouble, she prefers the college variety, which is why she hangs out where I work during my shift, and Scott-”

  His name grabs an unfamiliar sound from the back of my throat.

  She expands her smile triumphantly, “Who is in love with Sloane.”

  I give the back of my neck a harsh squeeze in an attempt to calm down. I gotta get a grip. Just hearing her say some other guy’s name shouldn’t piss me off. It shouldn’t make me….wanna mark her again for an extra good measure. I’m not a fucking caveman. I shouldn’t wanna throw her over my shoulder, take her back to my cave, and then stab any other male who even attempts to look at her. Not. Rational.

  “Not a big partier, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ainsley makes an effort to soothe my silent worries. “More of an old movies and frozen pizza kinda person.”

  Helplessly, I smile. “Me too.”

  Momentary muteness settles between us. We allow one another to soak in the situation. The date from a distance this almost appears to be. I give her tank top covered chest a glance and my mind immediately wanders to what I can’t see in the shot.

  “Here’s the first one,” she suddenly announces, pulling her thick wavy hair to one side of her face to showcase the mark. Ainsley angles the camera and leans it in closer to show me the faint indention of where the chain choked her.

  An immediate combination of guilt and gratification grind against one another in my veins. “Did I hurt you?”

  Her tilted face moves back into the frame. “Yes.”

  My mouth cracks open as shame seeps down my throat.

  “But I liked it…” She bites her bottom lip and wiggles her eyebrows.

  The twisted response causes me to growl at the same time my dick nudges against the zipper of my pants.

  “Ready to see the bruise?”

  “That’s not it?”

  Ainsley shakes her head slowly while moving the camera around. Once it’s settled where she wants, she backs up until I have a complete view of her body. The sight of her curvy figure baring a black tank top, braless, and a matching pair of hip hugging polka dot panties, makes my mouth water. She takes her time turning around more than aware of the effect she has on me. With her back towards me and her perfectly sculpted ass pointed at the camera, she tugs the underwear to the side to reveal five dark dots on her right ass cheek.

  The impression of my fingers left on her flawless flesh swells my cock to the point of pain.

  She leaves the area exposed and glances over her shoulder at me. “I can’t sit down without thinking about you…”

  My free hand drifts to the strained appendage.

  “Without getting wet…”

  A growl wedges itself once more in my throat.

  “Without wanting you inside me again…”

  Any restraint I had, any sense of moral responsibility, is completely wrecked. The only thing that matters now is hearing her scream my name the way she couldn’t earlier.

  “On the bed,” I command while springing my cock free.

  Ainsley sexily slinks to the destination after turning the phone to allow her to remain hands free for the pending process. She braces her back against the side wall of her bed and patiently waits for further instructions.

  The idea of someone else, anyone else, witnessing her withering body forces me to state, “Tell me you’re alone.”

  She lets her bent legs drift apart. “Completely.”

  I swallow my groan as I grip my cock firmly in my hands. “Show me how you touch yourself at night when you’re thinking of me…”

  There’s a hint of mirth in her tone. “How do you know I’ve been thinking of you?”

  “Because you better not be thinking of anyone else.” The possessiveness in my tone startles me yet excites her.

  Ainsley sweetly swears, “I haven’t been…Not for months.”

  I smirk proudly again. Months? She hasn’t been able to get me off her mind for months? After a small beat I realize, she’s been drifting through my mind the exact same amount of time. Ever since I stepped in the first time for Garrison back in September when all he had was a doctor’s appointment. The second she strolled by I felt something. Something I’ve been trying to deny ever since. Something I wanted to leave forgotten in the past for fear of it fucking up my future. Something I no longer want, but need in my life. Need to simply…exist.

  Her body slides down onto its back and she slowly begins to remove her bottoms, face now completely out of sight. The moment her bare pussy is exposed, my cock pulsates against my palm, demanding my attention. I give it the strong stroke it desires, making sure to squeeze every inch from root to tip.

  Ainsley’s delicate hand slides past the outside of her slick lips and lets her middle finger dip into the wet depths. Instantly, a long, loud moan of relief reverberates around her room and directly into me. I repeat my previous action not wanting to give my cock too much consideration. Not yet. Not until she’s closer to coming. Her fingers begin to rhythmically pump, keeping her palm flat enough to brush against her clit. Each gentle graze of the sensitive nub causes her to arch slightly upward in tantalizing impetuosity. Effortlessly, my hand mimics the motions, replacing her fingers with my dick every time she thrusts. Ainsley keeps the pace of the pushing even, despite her body eagerly shuddering for more.

  Her soft symphony of moans turns into dire invocations of my name, “Nate….Oh God, Nate…”

  I groan at the sound and strain my eyes to keep watching. Heedlessly, I increase the speed of my jerking, the greed to come almost as strong as the greed to wait for her final moment. Ainsley’s actions escalate in haste. Her small hand is now feverishly rubbing her clit as her finger forcefully plunges again and again into her tight, swollen pussy.

  “Nate….” She whimpers and my balls clench in response. “Come with me…”

  There’s no hesitation in fulfilling her request. My cock stiffens and cum surges out, searing my hand like it’s fallen onto a hot stove. I grumble, shaking uncontrollably from the release at the same time I anxiously watch Ainsley explode. Her breathing becomes labored. Her free hand winds around the sheets. Her mocha frame is so tremulous I fear the bed might break. The sound of my name still endle
ssly slipping from her lips sends aftershocks through my system, tempting my still thrumming cock to come again.

  For several moments neither of us says a word. I attempt to settle my breath and clear my head from the impeccable sex haze she always seems to create. When the heater kicks on and the air brushes my sensitive tip, I finally bring myself back to reality. My eyes glance down at the cum spread on my dress pants and the remote. Shit. This is gonna be a bitch to clean up.

  Before I can question whether or not it was worth it, Ainsley’s satisfied sweet face, sits up and allows me to soak it in.

  Of course she’s worth. She’s worth anything…

  I try not to groan in disapproval of that thought and lean over to grab a tissue with my dirty hand. As I attempt to clean the mess, I state, “Next time you come it better be my on my cock. Understood?”

  She giggles, picks up the phone, and agrees. “Yes sir.”

  Once I’ve finished wiping my fingers, I ask, “Do you have plans tomorrow night?”

  Ainsley promptly shakes her head.

  “An old friend of mine is screening her film at a theater near Clover Rose University.” Apprehension rises in my throat and I do my best to shove it back down. “Do you wanna go? Maybe grab dinner afterwards?”

  Her entire face fills with surprise. “I’d love to.”

  I smile. “It’s at seven, so we need to leave here around 5:45. Get through traffic and all the kiss ass formalities before the showing. Should I…pick you up?” The risk of us being seen by someone who shouldn’t lands on my shoulders. Maybe we should just stick to sex. Something that we can enjoy without possibly being caught, well, if I don’t fuck her in the school again…

  “How about I meet you at your place?”

  The suggestion instantly relieves the tension. I simply nod.

  “Formal?”

  “Casual.”

  Ainsley gives me another sweet smile. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  With another nod, I absentmindedly confess, “I’m looking forward to it.”

  She gives her wild hair a ruffle and the brightness in her expression increases exceptionally.

  This is the first time we’ve had a conversation outside of the classroom. Outside of sex. No wonder she looked as shocked as she did when I asked her out. I’ve done everything backwards with her. The natural logic I’ve come to rely on doesn’t seem to fit for us. It doesn’t even seem to belong in the same category. Nothing about this situation makes sense, yet trying to stop it from happening makes even less. I don’t remember the last time I felt like this…Hell I don’t remember the last time I genuinely felt anything. Feelings fuck with a person’s ability to make rational decisions. Clearly. I just hope I can figure out what the hell we’re doing before we fall too deep into something that buries us both alive.

  Ainsley

  I lean my back against the wall outside of Nate’s third floor apartment. “No, Sloane. I’m really not going.”

  My best friend whines, “But I need back up!”

  “Take Scott.”

  “You know he hates The Circle.”

  Yeah, but he would hate the idea of her going all alone more. The Circle is the name of the private lake house community almost everyone in the school spends the weekends partying at. Each weekend it changes whose house is the designated house, but every weekend there is always a party and it’s always by, or occasionally, on the lake.

  “I’m sure he’ll go when you tell him I can’t.”

  She grumps. “Why would you pick up a shift on a Saturday night?”

  “Because you know they rarely let me,” I continue the lie that has remnants of truth in it. While I’m not actually working tonight, it is a rare occasion for the pub to let me work on the weekends. My three nights are always during the week unless there’s an emergency and they need me to fill in. The owner prefers to let the waitresses with ‘more experience’ handle the bigger crowds. I’d find it insulting if I didn’t actually enjoy getting to keep my weekends free for movie marathons. Come to think of it, if things between Nate and I keep going like I hope, it’ll work out quite nicely. Picking up pretend shifts will be the perfect cover.

  “Maybe I should just come hang out there instead. I usually find someone hot that makes it worth the shitty bus ride.”

  Quickly, I counter, “I’m in the back tonight.”

  “Ugh,” she groans over dramatically again. “This is the worst thing that could ever happen to me.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Fine,” Sloane humphs. “I’ll make Scott go to The Circle with me.”

  “It won’t be that bad…But I have to go. My shift is about to start.”

  “Yeah. Yeah.”

  The call ends and I immediately let out a deep sigh of relief.

  I hate lying to Sloane. She’s the only real friend I’ve ever had. Before we met, I spent the majority of my time alone. Girls went out of their way to avoid me, calling me everything from geek to a slut, while guys have always gone out of their way to make a pass at me thinking I’m easy. My mother’s extravagant taste in designer shoes and obsessive belief in showcasing our legs has kept my wardrobe flooded with provocative attire. I’d be lying to say as I’ve gotten a little older, I don’t enjoy it. I love the dresses and wedged shoes. I’ve got a great set of legs and I’m okay with that. But being proud of it has gotten me hateful labels. When I’m confident I’m a bitch. When my clothes are short, I’m a slut. When I’d rather stay home on a Friday night to watch a John Hughes marathon, I’m a geek. Other than Sloane, no one else has ever taken the chance to get to know me or to make it okay for me to just be me. Sometimes that’s all I really want in life. Not a million dollar career or huge fancy house like my mother insists I get into, but simply to feel like it’s okay to be who I really am. Appreciated for all the little parts that make up me. At least I’m lucky enough to have one friend who let’s that happen. It sucks having to hide this from her.

  Before I can put the device away it vibrates in my hand. I quickly swipe the message.

  Josh: I’d love to see you at The Circle tonight.

  One more reason not to go.

  Me: Can’t. Working. Have fun though.

  Josh: I’ll miss your beautiful face.

  I try not to gag over the text. He’s probably not the giant jerk I imagine him to be just because he’s a jock, but he’s definitely not the one I want to be spending my Saturday night with.

  After slipping my cell into my wristlet purse, I give my long wavy hair a ruffle, and approach Nate’s door. Nervously, I knock, hoping he hasn’t changed his mind on taking me out to do something in public. We didn’t talk much after he officially asked me out. I thought it would be better to end the call before he had time to create doubts. He let me go with little reluctance, but made sure to check my birth control status prior to the conversation being over. He swore he was clean, that he hadn’t had sex in almost a year, and I offered him similar comfort, informing him about being on the pill since I was fifteen along with my short list of two sexual partners, both over a year ago. The discussion finished with what appeared to be a smile of relief on his face. I’m glad. Having sex without a condom is way better than with. I can’t imagine us ever going the other way.

  The door swings open and Nate’s jaw immediately hits the ground. His blue eyes take their time admiring my black quarter sleeve dress that has an oversized fit and ridged bottom. The way certain pieces dangle lower while the ones on my side cut off higher creates an illusion of seeing more than you actually will. From the heated look rising on his face, I’m going to safely assume it’s working as intended. However, the weight of his silent stare begins to stir the very insecurity in me I was wrestling with before I left the house. Is this too short? Too slutty? Is he going to be embarrassed to take me around his friends? Does this totally make me look my age?

  “Holy shit,” he breathlessly states, eyes now dancing around
my black, knee-high, heeled boots. His attention fights against being dragged back up to meet my eyes. “You look….You look…Wow.”

  A smile spreads across my lips and I fidget with the black choker around my neck. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Nate clears his throat, yet continues to stare as if he’s lost all ability to speak.

  I give him a few more seconds before questioning, “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” He almost whispers and locks eyes with me. “However, I’m now regretting suggesting we leave my apartment.”

  I push my lightly glossed lips together and momentarily imagine an evening of having him buried between my legs like I spent all night dreaming about. The thought sends a heavenly shiver down my spine. Less than innocently, I suggest, “We could always stay in…”