Declan let out a groan, as if he was embarrassed by his brother’s protectiveness.
“Once I get this splint off and my thumb is healed up, I’ll be able to take them.” With my good hand, I did a few fake punches. “I’m better than I look, you know. I can take a guy your size down.” Both of them stared at me, and it was clear neither one of them believed me. How insulting.
I wasn’t lying. I could take a man down if I had to. Travis had just caught me off-guard, and then the chains kind of stopped me from going after him. In a battle of sheer strength? They would win, but the difference between them and me was that they relied on their strength. Me? I relied on using their strength against them, using their size against them. If you were smart, you could take anyone down.
“You keep surprising me,” Will commented, glancing at Declan. “Do you know how obsessed she is about chicken nuggets?”
Had I ever told Declan about how much I loved nuggets?
Apparently not, for Declan was slow to shake his head, his dark eyes darting to me. I didn’t know why, but right then I felt a bit uneasy, guilty, almost, like I shouldn’t have shared anything with Will, shouldn’t have bonded with him while Declan was here. As if I was only allowed to share things with Declan, which was just stupid, because I was allowed to do whatever the hell I wanted. Declan didn’t own me. No one did, especially not fucking Travis.
“I’m also pretty good at videogames,” I said, earning stares from both guys again. Being caught in this brother sandwich, now that was something I could get behind. Totally would never happen, only in my wildest dreams, but still. “Bet I could beat both your asses in any game.” Then something occurred to me. “Do rich kids even play videogames?”
Declan laughed, and Will was busy shaking his head. “What do you think we do?” Will asked, “Spend our time going to lawn parties and taking classes on how to order people around? Of course we play videogames.”
“Okay, then after I get this thing off, it’s a date.” I realized what I said after I said it, and by that time, it was too late. The word date was already said, spoken into a hospital room with two brothers, one who I’d just met last night, and not under the best circumstance. I immediately tried to catch myself, to clear the awkward air, “A videogame date. Whoever wins gets bragging rights, and whoever loses…” I honestly could not come up with something the loser would do, mostly because I still could not believe I was rambling so much.
Declan was quiet, but Will asked, “Go on. Whoever loses does what? I’m interested to know where your mind went, Ash.”
I stuck my fork into another piece of French toast, avoiding both their gazes. “I’ll have to think about it,” I muttered, shoving the food into my mouth, hoping that, with my mouth full, I wouldn’t be able to say anything else so stupid.
This just wasn’t my day.
Chapter Eight – Sawyer
Travis and I stood in the hallway as the shower ran. Honestly, it took everything out of me to not go to Ash and Declan’s dorm. I had no idea who the fuck sent that letter to me, but no one told me what to do. If I wanted Ash, I’d fucking have Ash. If I wanted to dump her like trash, I’d do that, too. But first, before I did any of that, I needed my confidence back.
I needed to cum in a girl that wasn’t Ash and not wish it was her.
It made sense, at least when I didn’t think too hard about it.
Travis was busy reading the dye container. It was a small thing, so we’d gotten a few of them, along with bleach. Brooklyn was willing to put in the time, to play up to our kinks—mostly because she’d be getting both Travis and me at the same time. It’d been a long time since Travis and I shared a girl together.
“I think we should’ve gone with a lighter pink,” Travis muttered.
“Too late now,” I said, feeling a familiar urge. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. My fingers tapped my elbows, and I heard the shower turn off. I barged in, throwing open the door, just in time to see Brooklyn step out of the tub and reach for a towel. Even wet, her hair was a bright, vibrant pink. Way too pink. Needed to be duller. “Wash it again,” I said, closing the door behind me. I ignored her groan.
Didn’t matter. She’d get back in the shower and she’d wash it again, just to please me. I was Sawyer Salvatore. Every girl in the area wanted to be with me. Everyone wanted a piece of me, of my money.
I let out a sigh, heading past Travis as I walked down the stairs. I went into the kitchen, past the trash can, where the six-word letter sat, torn into pieces. I stopped near the cabinet in the corner, my fingers toying with the handle on the drawer.
I knew what was inside. I knew how many bags there were, what was in them. I knew exactly what each pill did, how they affected me when swallowed, when snorted…they were tiny bags I should’ve gotten rid of after Sabrina’s death. But I didn’t. I still had them, but now I wondered if I kept them as temptation or as a reminder of who I didn’t want to be.
The bender I was on that weekend was a bad one. I couldn’t remember near any of it. I was high as a fucking kite while my sister died, and I swore I would never get that bad again—and I meant it. I meant it when I told myself I was done with that shit.
So then why did I still have a drawer of them?
Maybe because I knew it would make it easier. Maybe because I was feeling so goddamned tense, all because of fucking Ash.
Ash. I hated her for what she was doing to me, and I hated Declan even more, knowing he somehow got her on his side.
Once I got over this…whatever the fuck this turned out to be, I’d make them both pay. Once I was myself again, I’d make them both wish they were dead. Even dropping out of Hillcrest wouldn’t stop me from making their lives miserable. I had a shit ton of money; I could follow them wherever they went.
When I heard Travis coming down the stairs, I quickly moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a cold beer and popping it open. I offered it to him, but he only shook his head. I took a long swig, finally saying, “She’s pretty, at least.”
Brooklyn was someone from the local college, but I’d known her a while. She always liked my posts and followed me on every social media site I was on. Not exactly a stalker, but if I told her to jump, she’d be one of the bitches who’d ask: how high? What was going to happen after she got out of that shower would probably be the highlight of her pathetic life.
“I guess,” Travis muttered, setting the dye container down on the counter. His blue stare lingered on me. “You sure you want to do this?” I could tell by his tone he didn’t really care; he was only doing this for me, and he didn’t give a shit what my answer was.
It was too late now. Brooklyn was here, with her light brown locks bleached and then dyed, and her pussy was just as good as Ash’s.
Ash. I would not think about her right now.
I nodded, and Travis pulled out a pack of cigarettes, saying, “I’ll meet you upstairs, then. I need a smoke.” He said not another word as he exited through the back door and onto the patio, where he plopped down on the nearest chair, kicked up his legs and lit one up.
Smoking was never really my thing. I’d tried it, of course, but I didn’t like the feeling of smoke in my lungs. Pills were easier for me, and their effects were more instant.
I brought the beer upstairs, setting it down on my nightstand as I sat on the edge of the bed. I ran a hand over my face, wishing that I could press rewind and have a redo of my life for the last few years. I’d do so many things differently. I’d pay more attention to Sabrina, be with her when she had her episodes. I wouldn’t be such a fuckup.
But that was the problem: I was a fuckup. I was one of the worst fuckups to ever roam Hillcrest. My parents’ money was an excuse for me to cut loose and let my inner darkness fly, but when given the opportunity, I went wild. I made mistakes while knowing they were mistakes, and being self-aware never stopped me. I didn’t care about the consequences or the future. As far as I was concerned, I might be dead in ten years, so why did it matt
er? Inheriting my parents’ company…there were other people out there more qualified for the job. Me? I didn’t want it, and I sure as shit didn’t want whatever woman they’d tell me to marry.
Fuck my parents. Fuck their money. Fuck everyone in the entire fucking world. I didn’t care.
It was long after my beer was gone when I heard the blow-dryer start to run. Brooklyn was in there, drying her hair, all for me. The thought didn’t even get my dick hard, not at all. This…this was going to take some work, I knew.
I got to my feet when I heard the bathroom door open, and Brooklyn stepped out, wearing a towel around her body, her hair mostly dry. A bit darker pink, but it just might work.
Brooklyn was a curvy, ample girl. Her eyes were a shade of blue you’d find in the waters in the Caribbean, and she usually had them lined with an excessive amount of eyeliner and shadow. She’d tried to get me to take her upstairs at a lot of my parties, but until now, it’d never been her time.
“Well?” Brooklyn asked, tilting her head. Her hair was a bit longer, well past her shoulders, but it would do. The hot pink it was before had faded a bit with an extra washing, now no longer excruciatingly painful to look at. “Is this pink just right for you?” One of her legs was cocked, and I bet any money that if I reached between them, I’d feel her slickness. She was probably ready for me the moment she walked through my door this morning.
I walked around her like a vulture, studying her hair. I said nothing as I yanked the towel off her, revealing her pale, naked body. Her breasts were round, the perfect size to hold in your hand, and her nipples were already hardened into pebbled points. Besides the hair on her head, there was no hair anywhere else on her. Her arms, her legs, even her pussy. All of it was shaven, just for me.
“Where’s Travis?” she asked, and I responded by pulling on her arm and forcing her to the bed.
“He’ll be up soon,” I said. “You don’t have a problem if you and I get started, do you?”
Brooklyn was on her knees on the side of the bed, her ass in the air. “No,” she whispered, a light and airy sound. She turned, sliding off the bed, leaning her back against the frame as she started working on my pants, her head level with my dick.
Staring down at her, I realized, this just might work.
She had my pants down, my boxers next. I watched her pink head tilt, her eyes meeting mine. My dick was growing, but it was nowhere near as hard as it should be. “Put me in your mouth,” I said, watching as she did so without hesitation, puckering those full lips against the tip of my cock before taking me in.
I found out there was one thing Brooklyn was exceptionally good at, and it was giving head. She was able to deepthroat me, take me in entirely, and I felt my balls tremble. Watching her pink head bob along me, I was hard as a rock now.
Getting hard wasn’t the issue, though. It was staying hard. It was losing myself in the moment and letting the pleasure take me that was the problem.
I let out a moan, and right when I felt like coming, Brooklyn tore her mouth off me and peered around me. I sent a glare behind me, finding that Travis had walked in. He was on his phone though, looking like he was typing something. I didn’t recognize the phone, though, and I was too full with the need to cum that I didn’t care to ask.
“Sorry, dude,” Travis spoke, “but I have to go. Family shit.”
I held myself back from rolling my eyes. With Travis, it was always family shit. Could you believe that I’d known him for nearly my whole life, and I’d not once met his family? He never had me over; it was always Travis coming to my house, which was just fine, because from what it sounded like, Travis’s family was weird.
Brooklyn was about to whine, but Travis waved her off, “I’m sure Sawyer will more than make it up to you.” He met my eyes, and then he was gone.
She was about to look up at me with those wide, blue eyes, but I wove my fingers through her hair and forced her mouth back to my dick, mouth-fucking her like I imagined doing to someone else. Another girl with pink hair.
No, don’t think of her. Focus on the now.
The feeling of an orgasm built inside me, and I withdrew my hips from her mouth, her saliva dripping off my cock. I helped her to the bed, bending her over its side, her ass in the air. I went to grab a condom from the drawer in my nightstand, putting it on without looking. I grabbed her ass cheeks, parting them so I could watch my dick disappear inside of her. I slid into her easily, effortlessly, and her body let out a low, breathy moan that made my balls tighten.
That sound…Ash had made that sound when we were alone. When I had her in my arms, me sitting on the bed, her standing because she was short, my hands holding onto her wrists, refusing to let her go. At the time, I had no idea what trouble she’d cause me.
Fuck. And here I was again, thinking about her.
Brooklyn was wet for me, and her body gave me no resistance as I plowed into her, slamming myself as deep as I could go. A bit rougher than I normally was, but I didn’t care. I grabbed a fist full of her hair, bending her neck back as I fucked her from behind, my balls slapping against her with the movement. Her back was arched, and she let out a series of moans that only made my body shudder in anticipation.
I came even though I fought it, riding through it as I rocked my hips back and forth. The orgasm dominated me in the same way I was dominating Brooklyn: hard, fast, and rough. I closed my eyes, letting out a groan as my seed shot inside the condom. I really wanted to come inside of her, but I knew better. Even when I was lost and on a bender, I knew enough to know that.
I pulled out of her, my breathing ragged, and I rolled onto my back, my dick still hard. I reached for the condom, pulling it off…only to grab another. Hopefully next time it would take me a bit longer to come. “On top,” I growled out, and Brooklyn moved to position herself above me, her breasts heaving with each breath she took.
I closed my eyes when she started to sink down on my dick, the new position igniting a new fire inside of me. My hands found her thighs, and as she started rocking along me, my mind started to wander yet again. This time my fucking brain started to imagine Brooklyn’s wet, tight pussy belonged to someone else.
No.
No more. No more Ash, no more anything. I just wanted to fuck. I wanted to lose myself in the pleasure. No overthinking anything.
Brooklyn must’ve been riding me however it brought her the most pleasure, for she cried out, coming as she rode me, her sweaty body trembling as her inner walls clenched around me. Her rhythm slowed, but I wasn’t done. I flipped us so she was under me, her legs spread, my dick never once leaving her sex, and pumped into her with a renewed speed. Below me, her breasts bounced, and I bent to take a nipple in my mouth.
Oh, yes. I was fucking back, baby. This was how it should be.
I fucked Brooklyn until we were both spent, almost half a dozen used condoms on the floor. Out of breath, she turned until she was curled into me. Sometime during it, I’d finally taken off my shirt, so we were both lying there naked. I could tell by the way she nestled into me she wanted me to put an arm around her, but I didn’t. I only stared at the ceiling, wondering why the hell it had taken a girl dying her hair pink for me to get back to normal.
And Travis…what the hell was up with Travis?
Chapter Nine – Ash
This was weird. It was weird, right? I was pretty sure it was weird. Totally, one hundred percent, completely weird.
Declan was home, finally, taking a shower with a plastic bag around his bandage so it didn’t get wet, but that wasn’t the weird part. That honor belonged to the other man lying on Declan’s bed, playing on his phone as if he belonged here.
Will.
I sat at my desk, trying to ignore them both. Yes, both. One was a brother I shouldn’t think about, while the other…well, imagining Declan in the shower was not something a roommate should do. It crossed all the inappropriate lines, ticked all the boxes. My backpack rested against the drawers to the desk, and my skateboard was ne
arby.
I really needed to skate, to just feel the air blowing past me and have a momentary lapse where I didn’t care about anything. Not think about Declan and what happened, not think about Travis and what he tried doing to me, what he might’ve done to Sabrina, and certainly not think about Sawyer or Will.
Jeez. Most of my problems revolved around guys. Who knew?
My eyes practically burned holes through the wood on the desk. My hands rested on my lap, and I let out a sigh that was a bit louder than I intended it to be.
“Do you always sit there and stare into nothing?” A masculine voice behind me caused me to jump, knocking my splinted thumb on the underside of the desk. I grimaced, and he was quick to say, “Sorry. I thought you heard me come over. You okay?”
I forced out a smile, meeting Will’s eyes while mentally scolding myself that I shouldn’t have freaked out so much. Like, I might as well wear a flashing neon sign that read I find you attractive and would let you bend me over this desk if you asked.
Will had set a hand on the desk, the other on the chair behind me. He leaned down a bit, and if I reclined back at all, I was certain I’d feel his fingers on my back. Why did he have to stand so close? Was this how normal people interacted? Maybe I should text Kelsey and ask her…
Wait. I didn’t have my phone. Travis had my phone, I remembered, and I prayed to any god that would listen that my mom hadn’t called while he had it.
“I, uh—” I was apparently having trouble finding the words to say, mostly because I couldn’t stop staring at Will’s lips. Did Declan affect me this much in the beginning? I mean, I knew he affected me now, but right away? Seemed a bit fast for my hormones to take control and make me want to push Will to my bed and tear off all his clothes.
Will’s mouth curled into a smile. He’d shaved earlier, which meant his dimples were out in full view for anyone to see. “So eloquent,” he mused, still leaning over me. Still a bit too close. Still…way too attractive and still very much my roommate’s older brother.
Freak (Hillcrest University #2) Page 6