The Next Contestant

by Dani Evans

  I step out further, attempt to walk past him, but he brusquely grabs my arm and tugs me back.

  “Kimber, we need to talk.”

  “No we don’t,” I say without looking at him and jerk my arm free.

  “Yes. We do,” he says in a clipped tone. I glance over my shoulder at him, at his inanely flawless face, his shocking blue eyes that have dropped lots of panties, including mine.

  “What for? You want to belittle me, call me a slut? You know that’s really brilliant coming from Mr. Player himself. At least I didn’t have my mouth or my hands down numerous men’s pants, let alone one.”

  His eyes narrow. “That was before you!” he sneers.

  “I have no proof of that. Do me a favor, go play with your ex-girlfriend since you couldn’t keep your eyes off her while she was on stage, and leave me alone,” I seethe, and storm off.

  In my heated fury and desperation to elude Jax, I hadn’t realized how late it was, until I search for the girls and see that the place is clearing out. Almost everyone is already gone.

  “Shit,” I curse when I realize I’ve lost my cell phone and have no way of getting ahold of Tiffany, or Sandy, or Darcy, Diana, Karina, Angela, Trena… not a damn soul in this place that I can hitch a ride from.

  Fuck it. I’ll walk the eight or whatever fucking miles home. There’s enough alcohol in my system to keep me warm. I scurry out the front doors and walk past the semi empty parking lot. A few blocks later, I’m trudging along when I hear a faint rumble of a motor. Then comes the whistles and jeers from a car full of guys slowly creeping up on me. I cup my hand over my ear and cheek, and feign talking into a nonexistent cell phone.

  “Come on and get in. No need for your sexy ass to walk all alone.”

  Okay, now I’m nervous. Without looking at them, I shake my head and begin talking into my palm.

  “Yeah… no… I’m a few blocks up the street… yeah, baby, hurry up—”

  “Sweetheart, come on now. I can offer you that ride, help you get Closer to God ’cause he’s right here, in my pants.” There’s laughter, more stroking of male testosterone, and I’m seriously frightened at this point. I scan the area, in search of somewhere to escape when I hear another car coming. I consider turning around to run back toward the hall knowing it’s unlikely I’d escape one car full of drunken college boys, certainly not two.

  “Party at Peyton’s house,” a girl shouts and then I hear not one set of tires peeling out, but two. I let out a little sigh of relief but wait until the faint sound of engines die off before I brave a look in the direction they went.

  And the night just gets better. It begins to sprinkle and I have nothing to shield me from the rain. Oh well. A little rain never hurt anyone, right? I laugh inwardly but then it starts to pour. About ten minutes later, I hear another car approaching slowly. Now I’m terrified and I swear my heart is going to beat out of my chest and kill me. I do the only sane thing I can do and begin to run, leaving the sidewalk, and dashing into an open field. I think I hear a door slam but the pounding in my ears reaches high octave, muffling any and all sound around me.

  The rain is coming down in sheets now, drenching me further, and creating a muddy mess of the field.

  I slow down a bit. Then I hear an extra step or two that doesn’t match my own. My legs suddenly feel shaky, unstable and I know it’s the fear coursing through me at the sound of an extra body following not too far behind me.

  “Kimber, stop!” And I nearly do at the sound of his voice but then decide I’m not giving into him, to his command. I’ve made it this far and the dorms are only about three more blocks from here.

  “Stop, Kimber!” He’s closer now, almost too close so I charge forward and push my already trembling legs to run harder, faster.

  “Leave… me… alone, Jax,” I say breathlessly. Running up a hill in hooker boots is extremely difficult. Especially when it’s mostly mud I’m running in.

  I’m contemplating whether to ditch the boots, if I even have time to stop and take them off, when I realize I no longer hear him behind me. So he gave up on me. Probably went back to the dry warmth of his car. I pause long enough to slip the boots and stockings off. God, it feels gross, the mud squishing between my toes.

  Moving further up the hill, I want to give up and collapse. My legs are killing me and I’m so damn tired. Almost there I chant.

  And there’s a hiss, inhale… exhale… inhale…

  “Did you really think I’d turn away and leave you out here all alone in a wooded area?”

  I ignore him and keep moving.

  “You’ll never make it home this way. There’s a river on the other side and a barbed wire fence.”

  “Go home, Jaxson. I don’t need you or your… whatever it is you’re offering.” I increase my pace. He does too. I can feel him, hear him breathing behind me.

  His fingers latch onto my shoulders and I stumble back with his slight tug. I right my footing and pull away from him, but he grabs me again.

  “Stop it, Jax! Leave me the fuck alone,” I cry out and begin to run, and stumble, and run, before I fall flat on my face, Jax landing on top of my legs.

  I scurry forward but he grabs my calves and pulls me back. “Let. Go. Of. Me!”

  “No. Stop fighting me and let me take you home, Kimber.”

  I kick at him, which is really hard when you’re lying on your stomach on a grassy, muddy hill. “Get. Off. Of. Me!” I kick again and again until I feel his hands slipping from my rain soaked legs. I manage to work myself partly up and when I finally get my footing right, he grabs my hips throwing me off balance. I fall, again, and so does Jax.

  When I try to pull forward, away from his grip on my hip, he clasps his fingers around my belt, the denim of my skirt that is already sitting low on my hips, and yanks hard, hard enough to pull my skirt down past my ass cheek. This causes me to stall and stop fighting. I expect him to pull me down further, but the sudden sensation of teeth biting into my exposed butt causes me to yelp.

  “Shit! Why’d you do that?” Instead of answering me, he does it again. “Fuck!” I try to kick him away but every time I do, he bites me. If I wasn’t so angry, so shocked by his teeth indenting my ass, I might actually like it.

  “Keep fighting me and I’ll continue to bite your ass. I rather enjoy it,” he says heatedly. I lie still and let him crawl up me. He presses his warm body on top of me and I feel his erection between my crack. He nips my ear then roughly says, “It’s raining.” Nip. “It’s cold.” Nip. “And we’re all muddy.” Lick… Nip. “I’ll do this all night…” He drags his tongue down my neck, then back up and nips my ear again. “But I can’t guarantee you that I can stop this.” He arches into me, and thrusts his hips forward, sways them in a circle and then grinds against me.

  I want to defy him just so he’ll keep doing this. But then I wonder what, or who he’d be doing if we hadn’t crossed paths tonight. Ellery, the devil in my head whispers, all the heat suddenly turns frigid. “Okay. I’ll go with you,” I whisper.

  Jax is off of me lightening quick and dragging me to my feet just as fast. He has a tight grasp on my wrist as he speed walks down the muddy slope. Anger flashes through me once again. Was he manipulating me with dirty talk and falsely giving me hope? What is it that I’m hoping for? I can’t go there. My heart ached before but now it’s full on crushing.

  We’re only a few short steps away from his car now and I have the urge to slap him, bite him, and kick him. Instead, I rip my hand free from his hold and he stops instantly. Slowly, he turns around. He smirks and raises an eyebrow, challenging me.

  I don’t like it, don’t like it one bit and I think he knows it because grabs my shirt, twists it in his fist and yanks me forward. I fight to get his hand off of me. We become a mess of hands seizing and prying until I dig my fingers into a tight hold on his shirt. He tugs, I tug. During our tug of war, I manage to rip his shirt, buttons plunking to the ground.

  I pause for a moment and wonder…r />
  What is it with alcohol? And emotions, and crying? Because I know it’s making me this emotional wreck and egging me on, fueling me to keep fighting. And sobbing. And pushing him, causing him to fight back when I know all he really wants to do is get me into his damn car so he can dump me off at home. He drags me around to the driver side and the clever boy pulls me in, on top of his lap and quickly slams the door. I wriggle against him, pry his clasped hands off my belly.

  He’s probably thanking his lucky stars, or soccer ball, that he’s finally done with me. I imagine him with Ellery, then sickly enough, Timber, and it stirs me up all over and I’m fighting to get out of his damn car again.

  Jax grabs my shoulders prohibiting me from escaping. “You’re not fucking running away, again,” he snarls. Then he lets up and I crawl over to the passenger side and sulk when he grabs hold of my arm.

  We sit in silence and wait for the other to speak. Tension burns for the next few minutes.

  Jax finally releases me and I automatically reach for the door, but the snick of the locks has me rotating toward him. I see his finger remains glued, pressing down on the lock position of the switch. Smart ass.

  I FINALLY GIVE up my fight and sink into the seat. Jax drives and drives and drives. By now, I know he’s not taking me home and I wonder why, but refuse to ask. After thirty minutes, I realize he’s taking me to his house. I don’t protest. I want to be with him.

  Jax pulls into the garage, leads me inside and in one swift move, he closes the door and backs me into it. Then he presses a hand against the door on each side of my body and leans into me until our lips are mere inches apart. He maintains his position, his mouth fractionally parts, and he breathes softly into my face.

  I shiver from head to toe, then slowly raise my hand and place it in the center of his chest where his shirt is ripped open from my attempt to escape. He inhales sharply as I drag my palm down his warm skin and pause slightly above his happy trail. He cups my chin, and brusquely pulls my lips to his. I keen but it’s lost in the sound of his growl.

  Weeks of escalating jealousy, him flaunting other women, me leaning on other men to get even, the time spent craving for his touch, come rushing back, leaving me craving him so severely my body tingles with need.

  “We’re all muddy,” I whisper as I run my palm further down his abdomen, and pause slightly above the button of his jeans.

  “I want you, Kimber. And you want me. That’s why you’re here, clothes damp and dripping mud in my entryway.”

  “I wanted you to leave me alone,” I lie.

  “But you’re here and you didn’t stop me or ask where I was taking you when we were in my car.”

  I know my cheeks are red, giving away the truth. I glance down at my feet. He places his fingers under my chin and forces me to look at him.

  “Do you want to leave, or stay, Kimber?”

  “Stay,” I murmur, staring anxiously up at him.

  “Thank god.” He stares down at me, the amusement in his eyes evident. “You were so angry with me,” he breathes.

  “Yes.”

  “I hated it,” he says roughly as he runs the tips of his fingers down my cheek. His proximity, his wet, muddy, yet fantastic smell is making me crave him. My heart is pounding and desire unfurls in my entire body.

  “What are we doing,” I whisper.

  “I don’t know,” he whispers back.

  “Neither do I.”

  “I know.” He plants a soft kiss under my earlobe; his fingers tighten in my hair. Pulling my head back, he exposes my throat to his lips. His tongue skims my chin, and he kisses and nips at my throat. “I want you,” he breathes and continues his assault.

  “I know,” I whisper as I grasp his biceps.

  “We need to shower.” He steps back, reaches for my hand, and leads me upstairs into his bedroom. We continue past his fantastic bed, and step into the massive black and gray marble tiled bathroom. Letting go of me, he reaches over and cranks the knob, filling the very large Jacuzzi. Steam billows as the tub fills.

  I guess we’re taking a bath instead of a shower.

  It’s warm and muggy in the bathroom and my semi dry shirt dampens and clings to my skin.

  Jax leans over to shut the water off. Stepping toward me, his eyes are predatory, sexy, as if he’s going to devour me. I want him to devour me. Reaching around me, he pushes me forward, in front of him, toward the large mirror in front of the double sinks. Standing behind me, he grabs the hem of my shirt and drags it over my head. He tosses it on the floor, and then rests his chin over my shoulder, staring at me in the mirror. Slowly, he slips the straps of my bra down, unclasps the clip in the front and as it falls to the floor, he cups my breasts in his hands. His fingers skillfully rub and pinch the nipples causing me to groan at the sensation.

  Not taking his eyes off me, his hands slide down my sides, gather at my lower abdomen and he flicks the button of my skirt open. He continues to drag the zipper down. “I’ve been dying to touch you again, Kimber,” he breathes heatedly as he drags his nose along my neck.

  Hooking his thumbs into my skirt and panties, he slowly slides them down my legs, dropping down behind me as he pulls them off.

  Gripping the edge of the sink, I step out of my clothes pooling at my feet.

  He comes back up and undresses quickly. I watch him in the mirror as he does and he smirks knowingly at me. He steps into the tub and I marvel at his beautiful physique. Not an ounce of fat on him. Every aspect of him is perfectly sculpted, and his handsome face, blue sparkling eyes, messy blond hair, is a godsend. His skin is smooth, chest hairless, male parts hairless, and just… mouthwatering.

  Stepping into the tub, Jax holds his hand out and I take it. After stepping into the warm water, he grasps my hips and slowly leads me down to sit in front of him. I feel his breath on my back as he sweeps my hair to the side and then his lips are kissing a trail toward my neck.

  “Grab the shower head and turn the water on. I’ll wash your hair,” he orders. I oblige.

  Jax soaks my hair, hands me the sprayer, then reaches over me to retrieve the dual bottles of shampoo and conditioner. I hear him pressing the pump before his hands are in my hair, kneading and massaging my scalp. He works the shampoo down to the ends of my hair then presses his chest against my back to retrieve the nozzle from me. He rinses the bubbles out and then repeats the same pattern with the conditioner.

  Squirting soap all over my chest and back, he sets the container on the ledge and presses the tips of his long fingers between my shoulders and begins to massage my back sensually. His hands glide down my arms, underneath, along my sides and over my breasts where he lingers, pinching, and stroking my nipples. Working his way back down, he sticks his finger in my navel and I hate it. I wiggle my disapproval and he laughs and buries his nose in my neck. His laughter dissolves as he dips both hands below my pelvis. My breathing increases as he rubs the outer edges of my folds. His growing erection presses against my back and he moans against the shell of my ear.

  “Rise to your knees,” he says huskily. When I hesitate, he grasps my hips and nudges me. “I want to wash all of you.”

  I ascend to my knees and attempt to sit on my heels, but Jax stops me.

  “No, stay upright and put your hands against the wall,” he orders.

  He leans forward, squirts more soap in his hand, dips it between my parted legs and his skillful fingers work a glorious friction over my clit. With his free hand, he slips a finger inside of me and circles it in an erotic way that has me pressing against him.

  Slowly, he stops and slides his finger between the crease of my ass causing me to inhale sharply. I pull forward but he grasps my hip to keep me in place. Gently, he rubs the tip of his finger over the tight ring. When he adds pressure, I jerk forward and attempt to flip around to face him but the tub is slippery. I fall but Jax catches me and he’s grinning. It pisses me off.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” I hiss and smack his chest.

 
“I can’t help it. You have a sexy little ass and I want to tap it.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not going to happen, so move over and let me wash you down.” He does as instructed and I wash and rinse his hair. Working a good lather in my palms, I slide my hands over his muscular back, across his shoulders, chest, abs, and then I grasp his cock.

  As I stroke up and down his shaft, he drops his head back against my chest, and I watch his face as I continue. His eyes are closed; jaw slack and his breaths are rugged. I squeeze him a little harder and move faster.

  “Fuuck, baby,” he hisses and then grabs my hand, stopping me. “Not in here.”

  Okay then. I push my hand down his back and force him to lean forward. “I just want to wash every inch of you,” I tell him.

  Slowly, I rub his tight butt, and then I quickly poke a finger against the rim of his ass. He clenches his cheeks and jerks away from me.

  “Hell no. That’s fucking gay as shit,” he says. I’m laughing so hard as he turns to face me and growls. He proceeds to rinse himself then shuts the water off and turns to face me.

  Jax’s face falls and he’s suddenly serious. Pushing out of the water, he holds out his hand and I take it. I’m standing before him, we’re both dripping wet, and he wraps his arms around me pulling me closer. Gently, he cups my face, leans down, and kisses me hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth. He cradles my head, his tongue still exploring, and his kiss is sweet, gentle and… emotional, like maybe he loves me?

  Breaking the kiss, he leads me out of the tub and doesn’t bother drying off or offering to give me a towel. He steps behind me and nudges me toward the dual sinks. I’m naked and dripping wet, staring in the mirror, watching Jax as he kneels behind me. He kisses and then tenderly bites my ass, which startles me. He comes up and cocoons himself around me. Covering my hands with his, he draws me tight against him and rests his jaw on my shoulder. His breath laves over me, so heated and intimate. His tongue darts out and licks the droplets of water dripping down my neck, and he pauses behind my ear. The sensation sends chills racing down my wet skin. He tangles his fingers in my hair, fisting it and pulling my head back so I’m looking up at him staring hotly down at me. He inhales deeply, lets out a heated growl and a shudder runs through me.