by Katie May
Glancing at my phone, I saw no new messages from Mom. Of course, she had forgotten about me. Steve had probably given her some bullshit spiel about how I would gain character by walking the twenty miles back to the house. I could call Beau and ask him for a ride, but the last time I had checked in on him, he had admitted he was on a date. I didn’t want to bother him. One half of me knew he would come running to my aid while the other half was worried he wouldn’t. “Need a ride?” Eric asked, stepping outside and locking the door.
Victory Gymnastics was an immense structure that appeared more like a barn than a gym. It had a hideous vaulted green roof that clashed greatly with the beige walls. There were no windows—the coaches didn’t want the girls to get distracted—and two doors, one on either side. It might’ve been ugly, but it was my home. The monochromatic lobby with white plastic chairs, white tiles, and white walls held more happy memories than my own house. And the gym itself? No words in the thesaurus were adequate enough to describe the exhilaration I felt when I stepped on the squishy blue mats. Felt the chalk on my hands. The leotard rubbing against my skin.
Eric was a retired professional gymnast. He was well into his seventies with a receding white hairline and a potbelly that accentuated his age. But there were crinkles around his eyes and mouth from repeated laughter. This was a man who loved life and everyone in it.
“What?” I asked, blinking rapidly at him. He chuckled.
“I see that your mom isn’t here. Again.” His lips twisted into something that resembled a scowl. Well…as close to a scowl as Eric could get. “Do you need a ride?”
Eric lived on the opposite side of town, but the sun was waning behind nearby buildings, and the air was getting chillier. I hated to inconvenience him, but I knew I had no other alternative. I would walk…if I didn’t live in a bad part of town.
A girl like me? Walking alone at night? I may have been desperate, but I wasn’t stupid.
I was just about to accept his offer when a familiar red Mustang pulled up. Music emanated from the vehicle—some rap song that had every other word some type of cuss.
Dylan popped his head out the driver’s side window.
“Hey, Sis! I’m here to pick you up,” he called. Eric, seemingly satisfied that I had a ride, patted me on the shoulder.
“See you tomorrow,” he said with a tender smile. He waved hello to Dylan as he walked to his own vehicle.
I remained frozen, mouth agape, as I stared at Dylan’s mischievous smile. Coming out of my shock, I hurried to the passenger side door and threw my duffle bag over the seat before climbing in.
“I’m not your sis,” I hissed, hating the term. The connotations behind it. Dylan was Steve’s son.
And my pain in the ass.
“Be nice to your brother,” he said with a laugh. The sound sent pinpricks of fear racing down my spine. “I drove all the way from home to pick your sorry ass up.”
His hand rested on my knee, and my stomach threatened to expel the contents of my dinner.
“Don’t touch me.” My voice was weak, even to my own ears. I debated how beneficial it would be to run to Eric’s car and take him up on that offer. Before I could even fully articulate the thought, the old man was pulling away with a cheery wave in our direction. So oblivious, like the rest of the world.
But why would he, or anyone else for that matter, think differently? For all he knew, Dylan was a nice older brother picking up his little sister from gymnastics class. Normal.
Dylan’s hands moved farther up my sweatpants, stroking my inner thighs. I tensed, squeezing my eyelids shut.
“Don’t be like that, Sis.”
I woke with a start, heart hammering in my chest. My stomach plummeted like a fucking bowling ball as I replayed the dream in my head. I had gotten so much better at quelling the nightmares. My sleep was supposed to be the one place I was safe.
If, of course, safe equaled unaware.
Blinking rapidly, I turned toward the school provided clock. It was a little after two in the morning.
I groaned, rubbing a hand down my face. I knew that sleep would continue to elude me no matter how hard I tried. It was a problem, I would admit, but one that was easily fixable.
With a heavy sigh, I stealthily opened my bedroom door. The hallway was empty, as was to be expected this early in the morning.
After one more quick glance in both directions, I hurried toward where I knew Beau’s room to be.
I didn’t bother knocking. To be completely honest, he probably expected me. I hadn’t been able to go longer than two nights without him.
Fumbling in the dark for his bed, I was unsurprised to feel his body pressed against the wall, leaving me space beside him. Quietly, as to not disturb him or his roommate, I slipped beneath the covers. His strong, muscular arm immediately curved around my waist, holding me to him. A scent that was uniquely Beau’s assaulted me. Pomegranates, the smell of his favorite body wash.
Feeling safe and secure for the first time since I had arrived at this school, I allowed sleep to pull me under.
I woke up confused.
It wasn’t so much the body beside mine that had my heart pitter-pattering in bemusement, but the room itself. Bright light immediately speared my vision, and I blinked rapidly, attempting to adjust my eyes. The bed beneath my body was uncomfortable, and the blankets were unnaturally scratchy. It most definitely wasn’t my canopy bed with satin red blankets and black throw pillows.
Beau snored softly beside me, breath caressing my face. With him still fast asleep, I could survey him without interruption. He had a sort of unattainable beauty that most models would die for. His golden hair and pale skin made him the epitome of the boy-next-door. His unnaturally long lashes were feathered against his prominent cheekbones. He looked softer as he slept, innocent almost, as if he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.
I had to remind my heart to calm the fuck down.
Yawning, I twisted in my bed, determined to get a few more hours of sleep before breakfast, when I met a familiar pair of burning eyes.
I gasped, muscles tensing like a thousand currents of electricity coursed through my veins.
Tanner was shirtless, lying on the bed opposite Beau’s with his blanket curled around his waist and feet. From my angle, I could see extensive tattoos spanning the length of his sculpted, golden chest. I spotted what appeared to be a blood-red dragon and a bow and arrow set. A few phrases in unreadable script ran down his side.
His lips curved upward into a smirk when he caught me staring.
Without breaking eye contact, he threw off his blanket and sat up in bed.
Giving me an unobscured view of his erect cock. Yup. Tanner apparently slept in the nude.
I gasped, turning to face the ceiling. Still, his…thing haunted me. I had seen a lot of cocks in all my years, and his was definitely one of the best. Not thick, necessarily, but long.
Unbidden, my eyes flickered back toward the man in question. He was standing, lazily stretching his taut muscles, but his gaze remained fixed on me, gauging my reaction. The asshole knew I was going to look again.
But how could I look away?
It was just…pointing at me. This fucking erect cock with pre-cum on the tip.
Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I rubbed my thighs together to alleviate the ache.
I closed my eyes, briefly, but I could still see Tanner. His cocky smile. His glorious golden brown hair. And…his chicken leg. He didn’t deserve to have me think of it as a cock. Nope. That was reserved for guys who didn’t piss me off.
Hating myself, I reluctantly reopened my eyes.
Tanner was standing in front of his closet, profile to me, and was absently perusing his clothing options. And totally not absently, he was stroking his cock, from tip to balls.
Shit. Shit. Double dildo on a club sandwich.
There was a smile on his face and a wicked gleam in his eyes. It was the only indication that he was aware I was watc
hing him. Watching him…and getting turned on. There was something erotic about watching him stroke himself with both me and Beau in the room.
Two can play at that game.
Acutely aware that Beau was still fast asleep beside me, I pulled off the blanket, revealing my red lace panties to his wandering eyes. His hand paused on his cock, head tilting curiously to the side.
Feeling irrationally bold, I gripped my heavy breast through my thin sleep shirt, testing the weight. I knew I had good boobs. Large and perky. As he sped up his own strokes, I tweaked my nipple through my shirt. My other hand trailed down my stomach, resting on my panties.
In tandem with his erratic movements, I stroked myself through the thin material. I was pleased when his breathing got heavy, sawing in and out.
He no longer pretended he wasn’t staring at me. His body twisted to face me fully, his hand moving rapidly down the length of his long cock. Perspiration beaded on his forehead.
I imagined that cock inside of me, pounding me into oblivion. Wave after wave of pleasure carrying me away into an abyss. When Beau groaned beside me, mumbling something inarticulate, my pleasure intensified until I thought I was going to be cleaved in two.
Suddenly, I couldn’t stand the panties obstructing my desire. I pulled the lace away, spearing myself with two of my fingers. Juices met my greedy hand, but I didn’t let up. Each stroke sent me closer to tumbling over that pinnacle of desire. With one final flick of my clit, I went spiraling over the edge, muffling my moan with my mouth. Tanner followed immediately, cum squirting across his bed and hand.
My underwear was positively wrecked.
Totally worth it to see the shocked expression on Tanner’s face. Aw. Did poor little Tanner not think he was going to actually come?
Being extra quiet, as to not wake Beau, I tiptoed out of bed and to the door. Tanner continued to watch me, eyes widening almost imperceptibly. I saluted him—and his cock—before sliding out the door.
The halls were still empty, thank God, and the beginning rays of sunlight streamed through the window at the very end. I had just turned a corner when a hand clamped down on my shoulder.
I jumped, startled, and met Tanner’s bemused gaze.
“What the fuck was that?” he whispered harshly. I glared at his offending hand until he reluctantly removed it, shoving it into his sweatpants pocket.
“Oh. So you do know how to wear clothes,” I quipped.
“I don’t wear clothes in my room,” he retorted. “Ever.”
“Even with your new roommate?” I countered, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. Why did the thought of Beau and Tanner both being naked at the same time arouse me as much as it did? I quickly tried to smooth my expression into one of impassivity. Still, I had no doubt he had seen the flare of heat in my eyes.
Damn.
“If you were my roommate, I don’t think I would ever wear clothes.” His voice was low, a silky timbre, and made me reflectively think of his chicken leg.
Down girl, I scolded my vagina.
“Oh, go fuck yourself.” Turning on my heel, I hurried in the direction of my room. “I know you’re quite capable of it. Never seen a guy come so quickly through masturbation before. Must be one hell of a hand.”
“I can always show you,” he said lightly, and my eyes rolled backward in my head.
I knew guys like him. Guys who thought that the world would bow down to them. Cocky assholes who never had to work a day in their life. He was attractive, sure, and there was no denying he had a nice cock…I meant chicken leg…but his personality was an entirely different story. There was brooding, and then there was asshole. He fell into the latter category. I barely talked to him and his friends, and I already knew they were going to be trouble.
But my middle name wasn’t Karma for nothing.
Actually, it wasn’t. It was Gracie. But you get the idea.
“You think you can just look at me with hooded eyes, that damn tongue licking your lips, that perfect pussy spread out like my own personal feast, and walk away?” he asked, towering over me. He was so much bigger than me, both in height and muscle mass, but I knew instinctively that he would never hurt me. He would never take more than what I offered him. I couldn’t tell you how I knew that, only that I did.
“I think…” I leaned forward, breath caressing his face. His eyes fluttered shut. “I think I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
Leaving him dumbfounded, I strode toward my bedroom. The door had been kept unlocked, and I easily slid inside. I was just about to shut the door when his foot appeared in the doorway. I quirked a brow at him questioningly.
“It’s not safe for you to not lock your door,” he said casually. “There’s a lot of creepers here.”
“Says the person who followed me into my room,” I pointed out, walking to my still unpacked suitcase. Unzipping it, I shuffled through the clothes. I was painstakingly aware that he stood mere inches from me, dressed in nothing but a pair of sweats while I wore nothing but a long shirt and panties. I was also aware that his dick—
Stop!
Finding what I was looking for, I stepped around Tanner’s muscular form. His eyes were trained on me, watching my every move in rapt interest.
“You’re the one who gave me a show,” Tanner said after a few minutes of silence. I smirked.
“And that gives you leeway to be a stalker?” Placing my hand on my hip, I turned to face him. His eyes flickered upward from where they had once rested on my ass. Instead of appearing sheepish, his smile broadened.
“If I remember correctly, you were watching me first.”
Kind of hard to miss.
Shrugging, I winked at him.
“I’ve seen better.”
I had been hoping to get a reaction from him, but his smile only widened.
“Don’t talk about other dicks you’ve seen, sweetheart. I kind of want to kill them all.”
“The dicks or the men carrying them?” I questioned, stepping into the closet. When he made a move to follow me, I slammed the door closed.
“Both,” he admitted unashamedly. “I don’t want to think about you with other guys.”
“What about your friends?” I asked, whipping my shirt off and stepping into the teal leotard. It was the designated colors of my gym, with a bright purple stripe running diagonally across my breasts.
“What about them?”
I shimmied into a pair of sweatpants, jamming my elbow into the closet door in the process. “Am I allowed to talk about their dicks?”
He chuckled softly.
“I suppose I’ll allow that. Aiden would kick my ass if I kept you all to myself.”
“You seem to be implying that I’m yours.” My words were muffled from the sweatshirt over the top of my head. It smelled of vanilla, my favorite perfume.
“Who’s that guy you’re always with?” Tanner asked, changing the subject. When I re-emerged from the closet, he was scrolling through my phone. I knew we didn’t have any service, so he must’ve been looking at my photos. I slapped his hand, and the phone bounced onto the bed.
“Beau?” I asked, reaching my hands up to twist my hair into a bun. Having hair like mine, cascading down my back, was a pain in the ass. Literally. It sometimes got stuck in said ass. I had learned long ago that mere ponytails couldn’t tame the mane.
“Is that his name?” Tanner shrugged. “He doesn’t speak much. And by much, I mean he doesn’t speak at all.”
“And you speak too much,” I retorted.
Tanner watched me. There was a sort of reverence in his eyes as I finished piling my golden hair at the top of my head. “You have a lot of pictures of him on your phone.” The whole statement was said nonchalantly, as if he didn’t completely invade my privacy.
“He’s my best friend.”
“Just a best friend?”
Ignoring him, I grabbed my phone from where it had dropped along with my headphones. I had memorized the map the night before and knew that there w
as a boxing gym a few buildings over. It wasn’t the ideal place, but it was better than the hard wooden floors of the main gym.
“You going to ignore me?” Tanner asked in amusement. Maintaining eye contact, I purposefully placed the headphones into my ears. He didn’t need to know that I had no music playing.
With a jump to my step, I walked the unfamiliar halls until I stepped outside. The campus was beautiful in the morning, the metallic violet sky painting everything in pink and the palest green. The trees were a magnificent canopy of dark green, and the grass was manicured immaculately. Even the creepy-ass fountain couldn’t tarnish the beauty of this Sunday morning. Nor the brooding asshole stalking me.
He didn’t say a word as he followed me down the gravel path and to the smallest building on campus. He stared at me oddly when I skipped inside but didn’t comment. Smart boy.
There were two sections. One consisted of a standard boxing square complete with a rope perimeter and two chairs in either corner. The second room had blue mats expanding the length of the floor. Both rooms were, fortunately, empty.
It was the second room I headed to, shedding clothes as I walked. I heard Tanner’s sharp intake of breath, and my smile widened. Ignoring him, I skimmed through my playlist until I found my competition song.
I then connected my phone to the school’s Bluetooth speaker.
“Move to the side if you’re going to stalk me,” I told Tanner, shooing him irritatedly with my hand. Seemingly in a daze, he stepped backward until he was pressed against the wall.
I dropped to the ground, prepared to begin my stretches. Tanner crossed his arms over his chest, silently watching me. When I moved into the splits and threw my upper half forward, he made a weird sound in the back of his throat.
“You’re flexible,” he murmured.
Unable to help myself, I twisted my head to smile at him. “You should see me in bed.”
I turned my face away before I could see his reaction.
After I finished my stretches, I stood up and tossed him my phone. He caught it easily, brow furrowing in confusion.