Winter Miracle: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance

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Winter Miracle: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance Page 25

by Teagan Kade


  It lands right on Naomi’s pillow. She opens her eyes and sits up, peering down at the screen. “What’s going—”

  She squints. “Jesus. Is that…?”

  Yes, Cayden’s very erect penis, the phrase ‘Good morning, we miss you!’ with a winky emoji beneath it.

  I turn a shade of red so bright I may as well be a tomato.

  Naomi picks up the cell. “Is that a penis or an arm? I can’t tell.”

  Where’s a hole to swallow you up when you need it?

  She taps the screen. “This is that jock guy, isn’t it? Cayden?”

  I nod, still the color of ketchup.

  Naomi smiles, laughing quietly. “Well, I guess that answers where you were last night, or where this was, in any case.” She holds the cell sideways. “How the hell do you even carry that thing around? Like, do you just shove it down one side of your pants? Do you use a dolly?” She’s enjoying herself now. “It probably has its own zip code, right?”

  I reach forward and carefully pluck my cell from her hand. “Just pretend you never saw that.”

  She puts her hands up, still chuckling. “Oh, I don’t think I’m ever going to forget it.”

  I pull on my jeans, struggling with the leg, almost tumbling over. I slip the cell into my pocket and grab my books from the desk. “I’ve… got to…” I point at the door. “You know…” quite aware my first class isn’t for another hour.

  I’m halfway out the door when Naomi calls, “Forgetting something?” She lowers her eyes.

  I look down at my chest, covered only with a bra. “Right.”

  I walk forward and swipe up the first T-shirt I can find, tugging it on. “I’ll see you later.”

  I get out of there still red, still mortally embarrassed, but happy too—gloriously, wonderfully, that-man-and-his-third-leg-belong-to-me happy.

  *

  I’m regaling the morning to Cayden in the lecture, but he seems distant. He finally brings his attention back to me. “I bet it’s the most excitement she’s had in years.”

  “You should have seen the look on her face.”

  He doesn’t reply, looking down to the lectern, but not.

  “Are you still thinking about your dad? If you ask me, he didn’t seem that bad.”

  Cayden laughs. “That’s what everyone thinks, and that’s why he’s so good at what he does. He can make you believe whatever he wants, but I know him, the real him. I didn’t appreciate the way he was looking at you, or that other guy.”

  “You’re jealous?”

  He shrugs. “New sensation, I guess.”

  “It seems both of us are into new sensations at the moment,” I concur, the lecturer entering from below.

  I lean across, whispering close to Cayden’s ear. “How about we skip this one today?”

  He smiles back at me and draws out his cell. “Let me clear out the house.”

  *

  I lie on Cayden’s chest running my nails down the hard vee that leads to his pelvis and cock, only moments ago buried deep inside me. “What did you tell your brothers, to get them out of the house?”

  Cayden holds a tendril of my hair up to the light, spellbound by it. “We have a code.”

  My hand stops. “A code?”

  “For when we have girls over.”

  “What is it?”

  His fingers run through my hair down my back, trailing over my spine to rest against the crack of my ass. “’Evanesco.’”

  “As in Harry Potter, the vanishing spell?”

  “That’s the one.”

  I shake my head against the compact tessellations of his abdominals. “You guys are such closet nerds.”

  “Everyone likes Harry Potter or, in my case, Hermione.”

  “That’s still high on the nerd level of HP spell knowledge, and what, you’d rather Emma Watson than me?”

  He squeezes my ass. “Emma’s got nothing on this.”

  I roll over on top of him, thumbing his lower lip, both his hands moving up to cover my ass cheeks, gripping them tight, his cock hot against my belly. My hair curtains his face, framing it. “I know another charm you might be interested in.” I reach underneath myself and take hold of his cock, pulling it in reverse, loving the way it fills and expands in my grip.

  “And what’s that?” he says, eyes all sex. “Engorgio?”

  I kiss him and pull back, lifting my hips up and placing him at my entrance. “Descendo,” I announce, before sinking down on his cock.

  *

  I step behind the bar and place my bag under the counter.

  “Welcome back,” says Lucy.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I pant, still flushed from spending the afternoon in bed. I thought it was medically impossible to come consecutively like that, each orgasm falling like a domino onto the next. Even my legs burn.

  The greatest marathon ever.

  I take a breath and step up to the bar. “Who’s next?”

  Colton Beckett comes forward. He’s in his lacrosse gear. I notice his teammates settled at the back near the stage. He takes me in. “Someone looks like they’ve been busy.”

  I smile. “I had to run between classes. You know how it is.”

  He nods, laughing. “Oh, yes. I know how it is alright. Evanesco!” he shouts.

  “You Becketts are all the same.”

  He shrugs. “Hate the player. Don’t hate the game.”

  “So, what’ll it be, player?”

  “Beers,” he replies. “Ten, for the mighty Musketeers over there.”

  I start to pour. “You enjoy playing lacrosse?”

  He leans onto the bar. He’s got the same inky hair as Cayden, but that’s where the similarities end. There’s a mischief in Colton that’s absent in the other two. “I like playing with my stick, what can I say?”

  “Do you guys only know how to speak in sexual innuendo? Is there a school for that?”

  He smiles, flicking his head sideways and wiping the bar with his hand. “It could be worse. I could be playing football.”

  “Football wouldn’t have you.”

  Cayden and Hunter appear from the gloom of the bar beyond, one each side of Colton.

  “The entire gang’s here, huh?” I say.

  Cayden turns and looks around the bar. Between the lacrosse team and the Trojans spilling in, it’s becoming awfully gender skewed in here, jerseys and crappy haircuts as far as the eye can see.

  Colton puts an arm around each brother. “Just good company.” He nods towards me. “Ladies included.”

  “Thanks,” shouts Lucy from the other end of the bar.

  “Since when were you a lady?” adds Hunter.

  She flips him the bird and continues carrying out boxes to the back room.

  I look at Cayden and smile, knowing less than an hour ago we were naked, sweaty, deep into one another. “Beer for you guys too?”

  Hunter nods. “Your finest gutterade all around, please.”

  I continue with the next beer. “Manners. I like that.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” says Cayden. “These guys are animals.”

  “I have no doubt,” I reply.

  Hunter looks to the entrance. “Speaking of which…”

  The three brothers turn. I see Dwayne enter with another group of Trojans. He sees the Becketts, pauses for a second, and then walks on in, setting up on other side of the room near the pool table and broken pinball machine.

  Lucy stops what she’s doing, watching.

  “Take a seat,” I say, pulling the next beer. “I’ll bring them over.”

  The three about-face and leave, Cayden blowing me a small kiss before he joins them.

  There’s a distinct tension in the air—Beckett and co on one side of the bar, Dwayne the creep and his friends on the other, the lacrosse team in no man’s land between them.

  I take the first tray of beers over to Cayden’s table.

  Dwayne stands up. “Hey, gorgeous, where’s our fucking table service?”

 
“Find your fucking manners and maybe you’ll get some,” calls Lucy from the bar.

  Dwayne licks his lips at me. “Oh, I’m going to get some alright.” His Trojan cronies laugh.

  “Ignore him,” I tell Cayden, but I can see him tensing up, just like he did in New York.

  I return to the bar and grab the next tray, turning and almost spilling them over Dwayne, who’s standing right in front of me.

  He makes eye contact only with my tits. “Did I mention they call me ‘Big D’?”

  I try to slip by. “Can I get past, Big D?’”

  He blocks my path. “I haven’t forgotten about the other night, how good that sweet ass of yours felt against me.” He puckers his lips. “You going to give me some of that?”

  “No,” I state, firm as I can. “Now move so I can do my job”.

  I go to walk past him, but he grabs my arm. “Lucy!” I shout, but she’s nowhere to be seen, probably stuck down back.

  “Let go,” I tell Dwayne.

  His other hand reaches up to my face. I pull back.

  “Get the fuck off her, asshole.”

  It’s Colton, standing between us, cutting in and herding me behind his back. “Whatever you’re selling, she’s not buying, so why don’t you go and sit back down with your butt buddies over there like a good boy.”

  This isn’t going to end well.

  The others from Dwayne’s table clue in to the conversation, standing and starting to move over. Cayden and Hunter appear, followed by their own cohorts. Half the bar is standing, all gathered around us.

  I place the tray down and call for Lucy again.

  Nothing.

  Come on.

  Dwayne gestures to Cayden. “I see. You’re fucking her, aren’t you?”

  “None of your business,” Colton replies.

  Dwayne rounds on him. “Was I talking to you, lax brah?”

  “Sit down, Dwayne,” warns Cayden. “Think about the game tomorrow… How good that bench is going to feel under your ass.”

  Dwayne nods, smiling, but he’s seething underneath. He looks at me again. “You can have her. I know a slut when I see one.”

  Shit.

  I expect Cayden to lash out first, but it’s the youngest of the Beckett clan, Colton, who swings. His punch connects, hard, Dwayne spinning off into his friends.

  After that, it’s a blur.

  I’ve seen bar fights in the movies, the kind of slapstick charade where pool cues and bodies go flying.

  And that’s exactly what it looks like as I press myself against the bar.

  Glasses shatter, fists and legs mashing and mingling together, everything loud and violent. I lose sight of the three brothers, caught up in the maelstrom of testosterone, the jerseys making it impossible to tell who’s who.

  A glass smashes against the bar beside me.

  Someone grabs my shirt. “Get the fuck back here!”

  Lucy pulls me over the bar, drags me down behind it onto the sticky floor. “Keep your head down!” she shouts, pointing to the back room. “I’m going to call security.”

  I nod and she runs off, staying low. A guy flies over the bar behind her, grabbing the first bottle he can find and flinging it back into the fray.

  Someone else jumps down beside me. It’s Cayden, looking remarkably unscathed. He takes hold of me. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  We stand together, his body shielding mine as he leads me to the door, kicking a random guy who gets in the way.

  He pushes me outside and stands at the doorway, shouting, “Colt, Hunter!”

  Hunter comes stumbling out, a small cut over his eyes, blood on his jersey.

  “Where’s Colt?” shouts Cayden.

  As if to answer his question, Colton comes running out of the bar smiling, others running past him as a siren whines in the distance.

  Colton points towards the tree line. “Go!”

  The two brothers dart away, Cayden taking my hand and pulling me along with him.

  We run through the trees and keep running.

  By the time we arrive back at the house, I’m completely exhausted.

  I sit on a stool, the three boys bent over in front of me, trying to catch their breath.

  Cayden shoves Colton. “What the fuck, Colt? Do you want to get us kicked out of here?”

  Colton points to me. “You weren’t going to stick up for your woman?”

  Cayden shoves him again. “And what exactly was smart about throwing the first punch?”

  Colton jabs him in the chest. “What the fuck’s happening to you, bro? A week ago you would have dove head first into that shit and now you’re sitting back, playing Switzerland? The fuck.”

  I’m worried they’re going to fight again.

  Hunter steps between them. “Colton,” he says, “it’s done. Go, sleep it off.”

  Colton throws up his hands. ‘With fucking pleasure,” he says, leaving the room.

  “Thanks,” I call to his back, not sure if it’s the right thing to do. The others simply eyeball me. It’s obvious I shouldn’t be here.

  I stand. “I’m going to leave.”

  Cayden reaches for me. “Indy, wait.”

  Hunter steps closer to Cayden, lowering his voice. “The Dean’s going to hear about this, Cay. We’re fucked.”

  Cayden looks to me. “Maybe.” He pauses, hands on his hips. “I’ll walk her home.”

  “Be careful,” warns Hunter.

  It’s even colder outside tonight, the heat and humidity of the day gone.

  We start to walk.

  “I’m sorry,” I begin.

  “It’s not your fault,” says Cayden. “Colton’s always been a hot head, takes after Dad. Shit, like he said, I wasn’t much better a week ago.”

  “Are you guys going to get in trouble?”

  Cayden shrugs. “Fuck knows. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

  A campus security golf cart comes down the road, lights flashing, cutting through the trees.

  Cayden falls back into the bushes. He points to my dormitory building. “You go. I’ll watch from here, make sure you get in alright.”

  We wait for the cart to pass, Cayden pulling me in for one last breathless kiss. I don’t want to pull my hand from his, but I’m forced to as he draws back. “Go,” he says, and I do, the sudden silence of the campus deafening.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CAYDEN

  Less than eight hours. That’s all it took for campus security to come knocking, a personal escort to the Dean’s office no less.

  We haven’t got our story straight, haven’t even talked since last night.

  Dean Smith looks far from pleased as we sit before her. “You know what the problem here is?” she starts.

  You need a good razor for that lady-stache of yours, but I don’t dare push the limits today.

  “You look like you’ve been cage-fighting,” she continues, “all of you. Faces messed up. It’s a look I, we, cannot have at Abbotsleigh.”

  I bite my tongue.

  She focuses on Hunter first. “What happened at The Lab was unacceptable. This is Abbotsleigh goddamn University, one of the finest colleges in the blessed United States of America and you are pissing over it like you’re bar-brawling out on Route 66 somewhere.”

  “To be fair—” I begin, unable to hold back any longer.

  She jabs her finger at me. “Not another word.”

  She pauses, composing herself. “In short, it is unacceptable. Someone has to pay.”

  She stands, rubbing her forehead. “No one’s going to come forward as a witness. Practically the entire team was in there, and I can’t exactly expel the Trojans, can I?”

  She’s right about that.

  “But,” she continues, “like I said, someone has to pay.” She eyes us each in turn.

  I think she’s looking for a volunteer, but I’m sure as shit not about to step forward when things are suddenly going so right, and neither are the others. None of us can afford to lo
se our place here.

  Her eyes fall on Colton. “Colton Beckett, you are hereby expelled from Abbotsleigh University, effective immediately.”

  Hunter stands, knocking his chair over in the process. “What the fuck? You can’t do that.”

  I stand too, but even though we tower above her, the Dean isn’t intimidated. She plants her hands on her desk. “I need a scapegoat here, boys, and as far as I can ascertain, he started the fight,” she says, glancing at Colton.

  “We all started the fight,” spits Hunter, jumping to Colton’s defense.

  The Dean sits. “That may be, but Colton is a freshman, his performance on the lacrosse team…”

  Hunter kicks the side of the desk. “The hell? This is about sports?”

  “No,” she says, firm as a fucking brick. “This is about you idiots treating this place like you own it, but you do not, so it’s one or all of you. That’s how this goes.”

  “Our father won’t allow this,” Hunter protests. “Do you know how much money he injects into this place?”

  “Two-million-seven-hundred-thousand last financial year,” the Dean answers, not missing a beat. “But I can tell you not a single dime is going to save you now.”

  Hunter is grasping at straws. “He’ll sue you.”

  The Dean smiles. “I’ve already spoken with him. There will be no legal action, no big hoo-ha. He understands the situation—one son out on his ass, or three.”

  That hits Colton hard, that the old man would so willingly accept this.

  Hunter looks across me to Colton. “Well, aren’t you going to say something? Stand up against this bullshit?”

  Colton simply sits there quietly. “What’s there to say? The Dean’s right. I’m pulling the lacrosse team down. Everyone knows that. I just started here. I can afford to leave. I’m not an integral part of this college.”

  His eyes are stony as he says it. I don’t know what to do, what to say myself, so I stand there, trying to look outraged, but somehow failing to do so.

  “Cay?” begs Hunter. “We all go, right?”

  But I don’t want to.

  “You have until tomorrow to decide,” says the Dean, standing one final time. “But the offer’s not getting better. Colton here goes… or every Beckett on campus does.”

  *

  We spill out of the admin building into a perfect day, but it’s not. No, it’s far from it.

 

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