Chapter 3 (Asher)
"You look so damn beautiful tonight, Breslin," I whisper as I brush my thumb along her cheek.
I mean it. She always looks incredible, but tonight? She's like something right out of a fantasy.
Too bad I feel like I'm trapped in a nightmare.
When she finds out the truth about me...she's going to hate me.
Hell, I hate me—so I can't really say I'd blame her.
The crowd around us cheers and I pull her against me tighter. I hear a few whistles and I tip my chin and nod in the direction of my teammates.
I'm feeling on top of the world, tonight has been amazing so far. I know Breslin's loving every second of it, and that's really all I care about.
People haven't been kind to my girl in the past. In fact, most were downright mean. Including her own father. Lazy drunk bastard that he is.
But then again, people like to throw rocks at things that shine.
People ridicule the unusual and unique. People mock what they don't understand...what they'll never be.
People fear girls like Breslin Rae.
Breslin's a hidden gem amongst a sea of dull pebbles.
I just hope my gem still wants me when she finds out the truth. I hope she gives me a chance to explain something I'm not so sure that I can.
Breslin nuzzles her cheek against my chest and I continue swaying us to the music.
I look around the room again and aim my smile for the chick holding a camera, giving her the perfect shot for the yearbook.
There's another round of whistles from my buddies on the football team which is soon followed by shouts of, “Number 3! Number 3!”
I feel Breslin's heart beat out of sync and her body goes stiff in my arms for half a second. She'll never say it, but I know how uncomfortable all this attention makes her.
About as uncomfortable as the pedestal she's had me on from the moment our eyes first locked makes me.
I never wanted Breslin to watch the show that is Asher Holden like everyone else in the world. I wanted her to see what was behind the curtain.
I know how to work a crowd. I know how to give people what they want. And I most certainly know how to walk the walk and talk the talk.
I know how to capture everyone's attention and force them to take notice.
All that glitters is actually gold when you're a Holden.
Because we're forced to learn how to play the game at an early age.
I never played the game with Breslin...but she fell for me anyway.
I fell for her harder.
I spin her around the dance floor and there's more oohs and ahhs from the crowd.
Then, my eyes lock with his.
And I'm reminded of everything I am on the inside. I'm reminded of the ugly truth.
I'm a disappointment. I'm a cheater. I'm a liar.
And... worst of all...I'm...
Gay?
Or at least...I might be.
The only thing I know for sure right now is I'm fucked.
I close my eyes and think back to that day a little over four months ago.
The day my life went to complete and utter shit and I ended up in this position.
The day Kyle Sinclair threatened, blackmailed, and ultimately ruined my life.
One minute.... I’m cruising through life. I have the most beautiful girl by my side, great friends, an awesome football team that I'm the quarterback of—I'm without a care in the world.
The next?
I'm waking up in the middle of the night to a warm mouth around my dick.
Then I'm fisting their hair right before I come so hard down their throat the entire bed shakes underneath me.
Freaked the fuck out, I opened my eyes and cursed.
Because I was staring right into the red light of a video camera. One that just caught my unwanted first blow job on tape.
My reaction was automatic, I kneed Kyle in the face so hard I heard his nose break and pushed him off my bed. “What the fuck?”
Kyle's hands flew to his face, attempting to control the blood pouring out of his nose.
“Don't act like you didn't like it.” He picked up his shirt off the floor and brought it to his nose. “The mouthful of your jizz I just got tells me you enjoyed yourself.”
I never in my life thought I'd be capable of murder before that moment.
But right then? I wanted to grab the nearest weapon I could find and slice the fucker’s throat.
I knew Kyle had issues—hell most genuine assholes and bully's do. But thanks to his father and mine not only being business associates, but actual friends; I had no choice but to befriend him myself.
Something I wish I fought my father harder on at that moment.
Kyle routinely slept over on occasion after non-stop hours of grueling football practice. I knew how much of a hard ass his own father was and I felt bad.
Him crashing on my bedroom floor a few nights a week was nothing new.
But this? This was definitely new.
I kicked the camera off the stand and took a bat to it.
“Won't work,” Kyle informed me after I smashed it to smithereens. “I had it set to go straight to my own computer at home and save. There's also someone else it was sent to just in case you try to hurt me.”
I didn't believe that for a second. It was his reputation on the line as well as mine if he was stupid enough to show that tape to anyone. He was just talking shit to scare me.
I held the bat above his head. His eyes went wide and he looked about ready to shit a brick.
He knew he didn't stand a chance in hell against me without a bat, so he was right to be afraid.
Kyle wasn't exactly what you would call sports material... let alone football material.
Not only was he one dumb and clumsy motherfucker— he was about 3 inches too short and 40 lbs. too light to make anything other than second string. The coach only kept him in first because he didn't want to deal with any shit.
Which is why at the root of it, his own father, a successful sports agent; hated his only son.
Kyle couldn't play the game to save his life.
I knew his dad was trying to pull some serious strings to get him on a college football team, on a scholarship no less, but no one wanted him.
Despite being a jock and almost failing out of every English class I'd taken...I wasn't dumb.
I registered pretty high on the IQ test.
High enough to know Kyle just set me up with a video camera and a blow job because he wanted something.
Right before I was about to take out both his legs he shouted, “I swear to God, I'm not going to do anything with the tape. I need your help, Asher. I'm desperate.”
It wasn't his words, but the way his voice cracked and the pitiful look on his face that caused me to pause mid swing. “You have 30 seconds to explain or you'll be eating from a feeding tube for the rest of your life.”
He swallowed and nodded. “My father's not giving me my inheritance when I turn 18, not if I don't make it onto a sports team. He's gonna kick me out and I'll be living on the street without a dime to my name.”
“And you thought sucking my dick while I was sleeping and taping it would somehow help you with your problem?”
He started blubbering like a little bitch and it took everything in me not to pummel him. “Asher without my family's money, I'm nothing. I don't have the grades to apply for regular scholarships and we both know I definitely don't have the talent to make my dad proud. I'm fucked, Asher. I'm completely screwed.”
I glared at him. “Not my problem.”
“It is if I go public with that tape. One that's been edited to the last 5 seconds where there's no mistaking your enjoyment and participation.”
I dropped the bat and clenched my fists, because not only could he be more wrong, he forgot something. “You're on that tape too, dumb ass.”
He shrugged helplessly and laughed. “I've got nothing to lose anymore, Asher. It's either this or I take a gun to my damn head and end the torture.” He ran a hand down his face. “Look, I'm sorry about the way this is going down. I wish there was another way, but I'm literally in so deep right now, there's no limit to what I would do to crawl out of this hole.”
When he pulled something out of his pocket and showed it to me a moment later, I knew he was right.
Because I was staring at a candid picture of a very naked and wet Breslin in a locker room—appearing to be looking for both a towel and her clothes.
She was clearly set up, but that's not what people would see or care about if it went public. They wouldn't care about Breslin's humiliation or embarrassment. They wouldn't care about her honor roll status or possibly putting her scholarship at Falcon University in jeopardy. The one she worked her ass off for.
They wouldn't care about possibly ruining her life.
My blood boiled and I seethed. Kyle could ruin my life all he wanted. I'd fight him tooth and motherfucking nail the entire time.
But Breslin?
He had me right where he wanted me.
There were so many questions I had for him. Questions like—who set her up? Who's helping him?
But Kyle wasn't going to answer any of them. Just like Breslin never told me when anyone picked on her or gave her any trouble. She always wanted to handle her own battles and never wanted to be a bother. Despite all the times I'd told her she was anything but.
“Fine, asshole. What exactly is it that you want from me?” I gritted through my teeth. “What will it take to make sure that picture and video never get out?”
I was prepared for the next words out of his mouth to be about my own inheritance that I'd be getting when I turned 18, but to my surprise; it was something different entirely.
“Secure me a spot at Duke’s Heart for the next four years.”
I'd almost rather he'd asked for my inheritance. I'd be a hell of a lot easier.
Kyle knew my top pick was Duke’s Heart. I was still being scouted and going over my options—but thanks in part to my father owning a very successful NFL team—my options and offers were damn near limitless.
My father also happened to be an Alma mater at Duke’s—before a tragic knee injury took out his career and he had no choice but to turn to his second love—business.
Me going to Duke's was damn near in the bag...but my father told me to make them sweat it out a little. This way they'd up the ante.
It was exactly what I'd been doing.
So far, they'd offered me a free full ride—despite my grades, and a brand new shiny car—under the radar of course.
Telling them to give Kyle a spot on the team though? Yeah, I was sure that wasn't something they'd be willing to do. Duke’s football team had a great season, they were nearly undefeated.
I knew they were expecting me to uphold that. My father being who he is might give me the upper hand, but it's my talent that took it the rest of the way.
That aside, they wouldn't be dumb enough to sign a disaster like Kyle up.
“Kyle,” I said, attempting to reason with the moron. “You and I both know that's not going to happen.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “However, I'll be willing to help you out after I get my inheritance. Maybe work out a monthly payment or some shit in exchange for both the picture and video.”
The shithead laughed. “A few thousand dollars a month isn't worth the shit that I have on you right now. Besides, who's to say if I agreed that you would still hold up your end of the deal? I'm not dumb, Asher. There's no negotiating. Secure me a spot, and everything between us will be just fine for the next four years.”
That's when I opened my mouth but he cut me off. “Four long years, bro. That's how long I'll be holding on to this.” He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe longer depending on what kind of contract the NFL deals you when you go pro.” He winked. “You're a great investment, Asher.” His eyes dropped down and an uncomfortable feeling churned in the pit of my stomach. “Worth every penny.”
Anger barreled into me but it was pointless.
Because whether I liked it or not...I was officially Kyle Sinclair's bitch.
The next four months were hell on earth.
Kyle permeated my every thought, my every move.
Lurking, waiting for me to uphold my end of this fucked up arrangement...letting me know he had my balls and my destiny in a vise.
He was like a slow seeping poison that festered and grew until it was all consuming.
He made me paranoid, utterly crazy. Every time he looked at me I could hear the proverbial ticking of the clock.
I could physically feel my life falling apart whenever he was near.
Everything I worked my ass off for was in the hands of a manipulative snake.
Not only was he enjoying the power he held over me, he also became too close for comfort. So close, it was hard to decipher if he was blackmailing me for personal or professional gain anymore.
I countered by making sure I was never alone with him again.
Our former forced friendship was a thing of the past...he was the enemy.
An enemy I couldn't tell anyone about. Not my parents, not my younger brother Preston, and for obvious reasons, definitely not Breslin.
How do you explain to the only girl you ever loved that some guy—a guy she used to hate—blew you without your permission and you ejaculating down his throat was caught on tape for the world to see?
How would I even begin to explain to her that if she ever saw that tape with her own eyes—the supposed edited version—because according to Kyle it was the only version that existed now, that it wasn't what it seemed?
How would I explain to her that after that night...unwanted dreams plagued me? Dreams that straight teenage guys who were football Gods with beautiful girlfriends were not supposed to have.
Seemingly overnight, Kyle and this fucked up situation became the catalyst for something I was too afraid to let hit the surface of my thoughts.
So, I stuffed it down. Because what I had with Breslin was better than anything I'd ever have in this lifetime.
I didn't need to explore my thoughts or subconscious desires. They didn't matter.
Breslin was my touchdown from the 50-yard line with only seconds to spare.
But if she saw that tape? There would always be doubt between us. Assuming she'd even believe my side of the story in the first place.
Because no matter what, that tape would live between us and be a part of every single private moment we would ever share.
That tape would destroy us. Everything about this situation would destroy us if I wasn't careful.
And that didn't even include the naked picture of her that Kyle had locked up. The one I was fighting to make sure didn't get out.
The one I was ultimately responsible for—because Kyle wouldn't have set her up if it wasn't for me.
Bottom line?
If Breslin knew any of this, she would either A—freak out and go public with what Kyle was doing, which would only cause him to retaliate. Or B—leave me.
Neither of those options were a possibility for me.
Falling for her was like stumbling into quick sand.
It didn't happen gradually. The exact opposite.
It happened so fast I never had a moment to think about it.
All it took was one haphazard step and I was done for. Too far under to be pulled out.
The shy and unsure redhead with the bright green eyes was my teenage kryptonite.
Breslin never asked me for a future, but I wanted to give her one anyway.
Even with the new storm that swirled around in my head...the calm was and always will be Breslin.
Unfortunately, with the shit happening under the surface, Breslin and I became distant...only she didn't realize it.
Or if she did, she never called me on it.
Because for the very first time?
I played the game with Breslin.
I turned on the infamous Holden mask and fought my inner demons all on my own. Because Breslin was worth fighting them for.
I let them eat at me every day.
Let them change me.
And eventually...let them win.
Two weeks before Prom...
I slammed my head against the tiles and swallowed back tears.
If there was ever a moment where I'd come close to suicide.
It was this one.
The moment where I had no choice but to let Kyle go down on me in a locker room.
He got what he wanted.
Seemingly last minute Duke’s Heart caved and agreed to let Kyle come along for the ride as a courtesy to me. One they didn't dig too deep into, thankfully. They most likely chalked it up to me wanting to bring my childhood best friend and fellow team member with me. They couldn't have been further from the truth.
But still, they caved. And that was all that mattered.
Of course, it was only after they heard through the grapevine that I chose another school and scheduled a meeting to make it official with them.
Even my father was nervous about how far I was taking it.
But he didn't know just how serious the real circumstances were.
And Duke’s severely underestimated just how stubborn a teenager who was under duress could be.
Kyle decided to celebrate the news with another round of blackmail.
Or whatever the fuck it was at this point.
It was clear he was either attracted to guys, me, or both—in addition to getting off on the power and control he wielded over me.
It was going to be four long years.
I had no doubt they would be the worst four years of my life.
Trapped with Kyle. Trapped without my Breslin.
Trapped in a nightmare.
Trapped not knowing who I really was.
I didn't recognize my own skin anymore, it felt foreign.
Was I attracted to guys?
I knew I was attracted to Breslin. Hell, I was attracted to her in an almost unhealthy way, but was she an anomaly?
Or was Kyle the anomaly.
No, Kyle was definitely the anomaly.
In fact, it wasn't even him that I was attracted to. I hated him.
But there was something there.
Not with him, but something...something I didn't understand.
Something that had me watching gay porn as an experiment one night and sporting a hard on that scared the living shit out of me.
Something that made me close my tear soaked eyes and groan when Kyle took me deeper into his mouth.
I tried to rationalize that it was most likely because it was a blow job.
A warm mouth around a dick would always feel good on some level, I reasoned.
But then I realized that I enjoyed the sensation of him kissing his way down my body right before he worked me over with his tongue.
My life as I knew it...flipped right on its axis.
Because Kyle or no Kyle...I enjoyed the feeling of another dude's lips and mouth on me.
It was only after a good five minutes of him going to town on my dick that the reality that I was now cheating on Breslin hit me.
She sure as fuck didn't deserve to have that done to her. Regret and remorse filled my chest with the awareness that I was cheating on a girl I loved more than life itself.
The circumstances didn't matter.
I shoved Kyle off me and he released my erection with a loud pop. "What the hell?" he sputtered, trying to get close to me again. "Come on, I know you're enjoying yourself. It's pretty fucking obvious."
I reached for a towel and slung it around my hips. "This is a mistake."
I scrambled out of the showers...until a force yanked me back and shoved me against a wall. "I've wanted you since sophomore year, Asher."
"Never knew you were gay," I exclaimed, because it was the best I could come up with.
He still had the ultimate leverage over me. I had no choice but to tread lightly.
He gave me a smirk and leaned into my body. When his hand disappeared under my towel and he grazed my balls, my cock twitched.
Traitorous bastard. My erection was at full force again.
"I guess I hid it about as well as you did then," he whispered before he began kissing my neck.
I closed my eyes and moaned when his hand wrapped around me.
This was wrong. My body might not realize it, but I didn't want this. I could fight it. I was stronger than whatever the hell this was.
I quickly opened my eyes, because Kyle's last statement reverberated throughout my skull.
He thought I was gay.
My brain swirled and neurons fired on all cylinders.
Was I?
It was the first time I ever let the statement hit the surface and actually thought about it. Really thought about it.
Up until Kyle's blackmail...I assumed I was straight from the day I was born.
Not to mention...there was Breslin.
I loved being with her. I loved kissing her. I loved feeling her tits, loved playing with them and driving her crazy.
I loved her...all of her. She was my best friend and the love of my life all wrapped up in one.
How could I really be gay if I felt that way about her? It just didn't make any sense.
But then again...nothing about any of this made sense.
I'd just turned 18 and officially became a man, but I didn't know who I was. And it was honest to God, the scariest thing I'd ever encountered in my life.
Without warning, Kyle pressed into me again and my cock throbbed.
I didn't stop him when he went down on his knees again. In fact, I practically whimpered when he licked and sucked my tip.
Nothing had ever felt so amazing before.
Well, except for being around Breslin.
Breslin.
What the hell was I doing?
I couldn't do this to her. I wouldn't. I needed to find a way to make Kyle understand.
He got what he wanted, and I wanted to keep what I wanted.
"Stop," I shouted. When he ignored me, I forcefully pulled him off of me. My dick turned flaccid with my new-found determination.
I ran out of the shower room and back to the lockers, Kyle stayed right on my heels the whole time.
"What's the problem?" he asked.
I pulled my jeans on in a hurry, desperate to get some clothing on. Desperate to get away from him. "I have a girlfriend, asshole. An amazing girlfriend who I'm in love with."
It was the truth. Although somehow between deception and extortion...the wiring in my brain got screwed up—but my feelings for Breslin were still very much there.
He tipped his head back and laughed and I debated knocking him out. "Oh please, Asher. Considering what just happened between us—it's clear she's just a coverup." He smiled and my anger grew. "Even I have to admit she's the perfect one. I mean, everyone at school knows little miss innocent won't put out."
I steeled my jaw and fixed him with a glare.
He was wrong.
The only reason we weren't having sex yet...
Was because of me.
Shit.
The furthest we'd gone so far was some over the bra and underwear action during a long make out session. My parents—or rather, my father; mostly shoved football and the importance of not getting a girl pregnant in high school down me and my brother Preston's throats.
He said it would ruin our lives, ruin football. That he'd seen plenty of talented men taken down by a money hungry girl with stars and dollar signs in her eyes and high school was where they were bred and born.
My brother Preston didn't give a shit—football wasn't his thing. My father's second love—business was. Preston didn't play sports and had no desire to. Even though he was two years younger than me, he was smart as a whip and already on his way to becoming one hell of a businessman.
My father didn't put nearly as much focus on him, which was something I was grateful for when shit became unbearable at home.
It was me who was destined to fulfill the shoes my father never had a chance to.
Lucky for me, I loved football. It was in my blood. In my soul.
And lucky for my father...me playing football hid all his handiwork.
Every time I was on that field, I knew it was my calling. It was my home.
It was my escape.
Despite the attention I always had from the opposite sex, I never really gave them any of mine. My mind was too focused on the field.
Sure, I jerked off to porn and had my share of crushes throughout the years, but my hormones never ran rampant like so many of my peers.
My father taught me to be disciplined. Sometimes the lessons involved words...most of the time, though—it involved his fists.
Either way, I didn't act like the rest of my friends when it came to the opposite sex.
Not until Breslin at least.
The first time we went past first base was like lighting a match.
But I had to contain that fire. Because if I didn't and something ended up happening—something like an unplanned pregnancy?
I'd drop the game in a heartbeat.
It was something my father knew. Breslin was the most important thing in my life. Even more important than my future...because as far as I was concerned, she was my future.
It's why he was biding his time until I went away to college. According to him, Breslin would be a thing of the past and my future would be set in stone. He didn't care that I didn't want a future that didn't include her.
Or maybe he did...because I knew deep down that my relationship and my feelings for Breslin petrified him.
So while he handed out condoms to my brother like candy...it was me he gave the sermons and threats to.
He constantly warned me that I would ruin not only my life but hers if she were to get pregnant. Said if I really cared about her, I'd wait until after high school, or better yet, marriage; to have sex. Told me to hold out, because if I gave in now—I'd never be able to stop. And if I knocked her up, sooner or later I'd end up hating her and my child for destroying my dreams.
Hell, he even threatened my inheritance at one point in addition to the continuous beatings he doled out since I was a small child.
Maybe if Breslin didn't live in a trailer park and have a drunk as a father, it would have been different. Maybe if she'd come from a wealthy and prestigious family, he wouldn't have felt the need to drill those things into my head every damn day and screw with me.
But that wasn't the case.
Therefore, I never pushed the sex issue with Breslin.
Maybe subconsciously I knew my father was right. Once we started, I'd never be able to stop and an accident was bound to occur sooner or later. Maybe my brain realized that one taste of her wouldn't be enough. Maybe I feared the downward spiral and it was my way of self-preservation.
I didn't want to lose my dream and I didn't want to lose her, either. There would be plenty of time for sex once I secured our future together, I reasoned.
It was only over the past summer going into our senior year that she seemed to want to take things further...but I was reluctant.
I figured it was because of everything my father ingrained in me.
But what if that wasn't the truth after all?
What if it was because of the other truth.
The one hiding deep below the surface the whole entire time?
I threw my jersey over my head. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Kyle. First of all, my sex life is none of your business. Secondly, I'm not gay. I love her and what we have is real. No amount of threats or blackmail will ever change the way I feel about her. "
It was true. I knew with every fiber of my being that my feelings for her were genuine.
He rolled his eyes. "The only thing that's real is the massive erection I gave you. Face it, Asher, you're gay."
I punched the locker beside his head and looked at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about. As far as me and my dick are concerned...nothing happened between us. Nothing I wanted to have happen anyway."
I felt something inside me snap and I grabbed his neck. "But I swear on all that is holy—if you go back on your little fucked up arrangement and it causes me to lose Breslin...I will fucking destroy you."
He visibly swallowed against my palm and I damn near grinned at the shift in control between us. Until his next statement.
"You're a pussy, Asher. You want me, not her. You enjoyed it."
I squeezed his neck until he started choking. "Fucking try me, Kyle. I dare you. Say one fucking word. Hurt her and see what I do to you. See what I'm really capable of."
I moved close to his ear, never letting up on the pressure around his throat. "You're nothing to me, faggot. Nothing but a lying, manipulating, little fudge packer who has to ride my coat tails because you suck at life. Everything you did to me without my permission, only served to prove how into her I am.” I snorted. “Enjoy the next few years, Kyle, because they won't be what you had in mind. I'm done being manipulated. Next time your mouth or anything else of yours comes close to my dick...I'll have my father's lawyers slap you with a lawsuit so thick you and your little faggot mouth will choke on it. Got it?"
When he started gasping for air, I finally eased my hold on him. "That's not the way this works,” he croaked. “Assault me again and I'll be the one pressing charges. I'll sue your parents for every dime they have and go public with our little video and locker room hookup. He narrowed his eyes. “I'll post Breslin's naked picture everywhere I can think of, along with her name and address. Whatever you do to me...she'll suffer the consequences. So I suggest you shut the hell up and do what I want for the next four years, Asher. Don't fucking test me.”
I grabbed my jacket and advanced toward the door. I was at a loss for words, because no matter what Kyle had me where he wanted me.
The look on his face told me he knew it. "You may think you're not into what's happening between us... but the next time her hands and mouth are on you...you'll be wishing it was me the whole time." He snapped his fingers and laughed. "Oh, that's right. You won't, because it's not like you fool around with her. Gee, I wonder why."
I didn't answer him. Kyle was not only obsessed, he was downright delusional.
And unfortunately, I was nothing but a puppet to my sick and demented puppeteer.
I had to figure a way out of this. There was no way I could survive this shit for the next few years or longer.
I slammed the door behind me and sprinted down the hallway.
"Hey, babe. Your workout ran a little late today, huh?"
I inwardly flinched at the sound of her sweet voice. A voice that was usually pure music to my ears.
I knew it would hurt to look at her, knowing what had occurred only moments prior. Part of me just wanted to break down and tell her the truth.
Instead, I forced myself to turn around and meet her big green eyes. Beautiful, kind eyes. Eyes that I damn near drowned in every time I stared into them.
Eyes that I had to look into while I lied.
Breslin wore a smile on her full lips that was brighter than the sun. Her long dark auburn hair was pulled into a messy bun and she had the faintest smudge of charcoal on her cute little nose. Judging by her own appearance, I knew that she had stayed after school herself; working on her designs in the art studio.
I cleared my throat, remembering that she had asked me a question. "Yeah. I mean, no. Kyle and I stayed after throwing the ball around for a little while."
My stomach recoiled and I almost threw up.
She nodded and smiled.
One would never tell from her expression that Kyle had mercilessly bullied her since the first grade. Well, up until two years ago when I put a stop to it.
Once we became an item, she decided to extend the olive branch to Kyle. Not only was he my teammate, she knew my father and his father were friends, and in typical Breslin fashion, she didn't want to cause any waves. Even though she didn't do a damn thing wrong in the scenario. Surprisingly, Kyle apologized for what he did to her in the past and things were fine between them soon after.
Of course, it's not like he really had a choice in the matter. I would have made his life a living hell if he hadn't.
She accepted his friendship with a bright smile and an open heart. There wasn't even any lingering resentment when it came to him. That's just how Breslin is, though. Pure and kind. Not a bad bone in that gorgeous curvy body of hers.
Bile ascended my throat and I swallowed hard. I really didn't deserve her.
She studied my face for a moment too long. “You feeling okay?”
I averted my gaze. "I'm fine. Nothing a warm soak won't fix."
She brushed my hair out of my eyes. Her nose crinkled just like it always did when her fingertips grazed the scar above my eyebrow.
The scar caused by my father repeatedly ramming my head face first into the corner of a coffee table when I was nine and told him I was too tired to go to practice.
The impact almost took out my eye, but Preston who was only seven at the time, moved the table away in the middle of my beating; or rather he tried to. Still...ten stitches were better than not having my vision.
"You should probably go home and rest." The corners of her lips turned up. "Ease those big, strong, tired muscles of yours."
She bounced up on her tip-toes and her soft lips brushed against mine. I kissed her back...until thoughts of Kyle flashed through my head. Thoughts of how the hell I could ever cheat on this amazing girl.
Kyle was right after all. I was thinking about him, just not for the reasons he thought and hoped I would be.
I could tell she only meant to give me a quick peck. But just when she was about to pull away, I spun her around until her back was against the wall.
Then I claimed her mouth. I could feel her chest rising and falling against me as I pried her lips open and demanded access. I groaned when she complied and turned to putty in my arms. Her fingers wound through my hair sending shock waves up my spine as she nibbled my bottom lip in such a seductive way, my brain muddled.
There was no doubt I wanted Breslin, she damn near drove me insane I wanted her so bad.
Maybe it was time I finally took what I wanted.
My lips worked down her neck, sucking the spot where her pulse was beating rapidly.
"Jesus, Asher," she breathed and her skin flushed. “That feels so good.”
I moved her shirt down, exposing her shoulder and ran my lips over the adorable patch of freckles sprinkled there. “It's about to feel even better.”
“Is that so?”
My hands dropped to her waist before they ventured lower and I slipped my thumbs inside the waistband of her jeans. “You tell me?” I caressed the delicate skin right above her panties until her head fell back and her eyes closed.
"I thought you were going home?" she questioned and I grinned.
She couldn't hide the lust in her tone if she tried, and fuck if that didn't make me want her even more.
I pushed her shirt up and teased the edge of her bra with my fingers. "You said I should go home," I reminded her. “I'd much rather stay here with you." I gave her a smirk as I tugged her bra down. My mouth watered at the sight of her nipples through her white t-shirt. "And do this."
I bent down and sucked one of her nipples through the material, my cock strained so hard against my zipper it was almost painful.
"Asher." I sucked harder as she moaned and gripped my hair. "We're in public."
I pulled back slightly and she blushed, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink, almost matching the perfect color of her nipples which were at full attention now.
She looked around nervously. "I mean, we're still at school."
“Are you saying you don't want this?”
She opened her mouth and I licked and sucked her tits again, which were damn near see through thanks to the thin fabric of her shirt.
“That's definitely not what I'm saying.” Her breathing became shaky. “It's just—” She looked down where my head was buried and the blush spread to her ears. “Anyone could see us.”
She had a point. Doing what I had in mind in the middle of a hallway where anyone could find us would be just as bad as that picture of her being leaked.
I grabbed her hand and led her down the end of the hallway to an abandoned classroom.
When I locked the door behind us she gave me a questioning look. "Here? Really?"
I nodded and lifted her into my arms. "Almost everyone's gone home. The only people around now are the janitors."
A slow grin spread across her face. "You have a point. Even if they did catch us, I don't think we'd get in too much trouble for making out."
She let out a soft squeal when I set her on top of the teacher's desk and reached for the hem of her shirt. "That's where you're wrong, because I want to do much more than make out with you right now."
She stared at me wide-eyed when I motioned for her to lift her arms for me.
Less than a second later, her t-shirt was on the classroom floor.
She didn't have to say she was nervous for me to know she was. I didn't want her to be nervous with me, though. I'd never hurt her...not intentionally anyway.
"Relax," I whispered as I lowered the straps of her bra. "I wouldn't fuck you for the first time in some abandoned classroom. I would make it special."
I undid the clasp and groaned when those hot as hell tits of hers spilled into my hands. Tits that I was officially seeing for the first time in all their glory. Not hidden behind a lacy bra like in the past. Tits that I had every intention of coming all over before we left this classroom.
"Because you are special to me, Breslin." I cupped her breasts and lifted them into my mouth. "So special."
There was no way in hell I was gay. Not when I'd never been more turned on in my whole life—thanks to a half-naked, sexy as fuck Breslin at my mercy.
She moaned and leaned back, giving me even better access to her boobs.
Goddamn, they were perfect.
Even playmates didn't have tits as nice or as natural as Breslin's. Hers were more like ripe, sweet cantaloupes rather than oversized watermelons. Either way, they were perfectly proportioned to her curvy little body. Not to mention, perky as hell.
I continued kneading her breasts with my hands, pulling them into my mouth, sucking on them like they were the best things on earth, because as far as I was concerned right now they most definitely were.
Breslin's little moans became more frantic and when I glanced up, I saw that her eyes were hooded and her mouth was parted slightly. My cock stirred and it was all I could do to not rip off those jeans and take her.
"So perfect," I mumbled as I lavished her nipple with my tongue. "You have no idea how much I want to fuck these perfect tits of yours, Breslin." I thrust into her hard and she gasped.
For the first time, I was giving into my urges. I didn't give a shit about anything else. Not my father, not Kyle, not the blackmail looming over my head.
The only thing I cared about was Breslin and all the things I wanted to do to her.
"Do it," she said, sounding impatient. "Please." She looked into my eyes. "I want you. I want this.” I didn't miss the way her voice shook for a moment before she found her resolve. “I'm a little nervous...but I know I'm ready for this. You're the only person I want this with. It wouldn't feel right with anyone else, Asher.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I know we're going our separate ways after we graduate.” She ran her hand along my jaw. “But it needs to be you. Don't let me lose it to someone who doesn't love me.”
I closed my eyes and anger coursed through me. It killed me that she thought I was going to leave her and that us going to different colleges would be the end of us. No matter how many times I tried to tell her that I wanted her...in the forever kind of way, she never believed me. She never trusted me.
And I just broke the trust she never gave me today.
I had to tell her. I had to tell her about Kyle, the blackmail, and these weird feelings that were scaring the shit out of me.
But I couldn't.
“I love you,” I said, my voice sounding strained even though I meant every word of it. I started to pull away, the guilt wrapped around me so tightly it was hard to breathe.
That's when Breslin snaked her hand around my neck and kissed me. And this time, she kissed me with even more fervor and passion than she ever had in the past. I became breathless for a different reason entirely.
That spark between us. God, that fucking spark. I swore, it was enough to light the whole world on fire.
I was certain nothing could diminish it. So certain I debated taking my chances and spilling the truth again.
That is until she reached down and stroked me through my jeans.
Fuck.
Hormones, attraction, lust, want, and need hung in the air between us. All the things that made people forget anything and everything, including right and wrong, pummeled into me like a 300 lb. linebacker.
I broke the kiss and popped the button on her jeans open. "Take these off and lay back on the desk,” I instructed her while silently instructing my dick not to come just yet.
I helped her out of her jeans and she leaned all the way back, stopping only to give me a wink before she let her head hang off the side of the desk.
Holy hell. She looked better than any centerfold in any magazine ever could or would.
Breslin was the kind of beautiful that could bring a person to their knees. Not because she was perfect, but because of her imperfections.
Those imperfections consisting of the random patches of freckles on her pale skin. The way her green eyes were almost too big for her small nose. The fact that she didn't have an athletic bone in her body and wasn't a size two like the cheerleaders, but a size eight. Something I only knew because I caught her crying in the girl’s bathroom on the first day of our junior year after Marcy Bush—the bitchy head cheerleader, and her bitches in training cronies—called her fat and filled her locker with diet pills and cow manure.
I was so pissed, I refused to play in our first game if Marcy wasn't off the squad permanently. Of course, my father gave me shit, but I didn't give a shit. I needed everyone at school to realize that if they hurt Breslin...they hurt me.
And I'd hurt them back.
How anyone in their right mind could ever call Breslin anything less than beautiful anyway was beyond me.
My gaze landed between her legs. She still had her underwear on, but those would soon be a thing of the past. “Spread your legs for me, baby.”
I heard her sharp intake of breath as she proceeded to do what I asked.
I zeroed in on the damp fabric sticking to what I knew was uncharted territory. “Take off your panties. I need to see you.”
She hesitated for the briefest of moments before she slowly slipped them off.
She was so smooth, so wet, so damn perfect, I had to bite my knuckle to stop myself from coming.
People always called me an asshole behind my back, and for the first time I fully understood why that was.
Apart from Breslin, I always took whatever it was that I wanted. I never once gave a fuck about the consequences, because there never were any. I was a Holden. Consequences didn't exist for us.
And I knew at that moment—the moment where a naked Breslin was spread out on a desk for me—this time would be no different.
I wasn't going to waste the opportunity. I'd wanted Breslin since the moment I saw her...it was time to finally do something about it.
I wasn't going to completely defile her in a classroom, but fuck me if I wasn't going to dirty my innocent Breslin up a little today.
I stood directly behind her and she swallowed hard, no doubt wondering just how far I was going to take this.
I leaned over her and skimmed my hand down her stomach. “Gorgeous,” I whispered, and any trace of doubt left her face when she looked up at me.
That's when my hand wandered further and she gasped.
The sound of my finger entering her wet pussy for the first time was almost obscenely loud in the quiet room.
There was a small part of me that was nervous, for a few reasons. One—the obvious...it was my first time fingering a girl and I was worried I wouldn't be any good at it. The second reason—was much more frightening and the ultimate game changer.
What if I didn't like it? What if it turned me off?
I prayed to whatever God I wasn't so sure I believed in anymore that wouldn't be the case.
Even if my dick didn't like women...I needed it to like Breslin.
Panic gripped me and I was about to crumble.
Until I looked down at her.
A potent rush of calm followed by arousal hit me as I slid my finger deeper inside her and my cock twitched.
I didn't have a damn thing to worry about.
Her eyes searched mine and her breath hitched. She looked at me with so much love, lust, and adoration I swear my heart stopped beating entirely.
I paused for a moment, unsure of what she liked, but then her hand landed on top of mine and she moved my finger upwards.
“Touch me here,” she whispered and I eagerly complied. “Keep rubbing my clit.”
She let out a low moan a moment later and I was right there with her. I'd always dreamed of what touching Breslin would feel like, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.
Or the fact that I was the one doing this to her. That it was me eliciting those hips of hers to buck against the hard wood of the desk and the soft moans to leave those full lips.
I looked down and relief barreled into me.
I was harder than a fucking rock.
I was an idiot for ever doubting my attraction to her in the first place. Not only was our connection out of this world, but my dick was clearly a major fan of Breslin. My body was enjoying everything about the way her body responded to mine.
“Asher—” Her words fell and she looked up at me. I knew she was close. Or at least, I hoped she was.
“Don't stop,” she panted. “Please don't stop what you're doing. It feels so good.”
I wouldn't stop if someone paid me.
Her nails dug into the desk. "Oh, God."
“That's it, Breslin. You're almost there, baby. You're so close to coming all over my fingers, aren't you?”
She blushed ten different shades of red and nodded. I didn't miss the gleam in her eyes, though; and I really didn't miss how she grew wetter for me after those words.
My girl liked dirty talk.
Before I could whisper any more of it, her body squirmed. “Don't stop, Asher. I'm coming.”
All I could do was stare at her. I was utterly transfixed as she screamed my name and a rush of wetness hit my fingers a second later.
Breslin coming apart in front of me was like watching a meteor shower.
Completely hypnotizing...and as soon as it was over I wanted to watch it all over again.
My own arousal zapped me, the force stronger than ever before.
Without wasting any time, I unzipped my jeans.
"What the hell?”
I looked down at my dick bobbing in front of her mouth. I was about to change positions, maybe to one where my balls weren't dangling right in front of her face, but she wrapped her arms around my thighs. “No, don't move. That's not why I said that.”
I opened my mouth to ask what the problem was but then she laughed and said, “At the risk of sounding like a staged chick in a porno...your cock is massive."
I couldn't help but grin and she rolled her eyes. "Cocky bastard."
I reached over and pushed her tits together with my palms. "I believe that's massive cocky bastard."
I was a second away from fucking her tits when she pulled my boxers all the way down and her warm breath hit my balls. Before I could stop her, her tongue dragged across my sac and I cursed.
It's not that I didn't want Breslin's tongue there, of course I did...I just didn't want it there now.
Not after what Kyle did.
I groaned and my body jerked when she repeated the movement. My cock throbbed and that little devil on my shoulder said to hell with it, but both my conscience and stomach recoiled.
I slammed the desk with my fist when her tongue darted out again, this time, circling one of my balls.
Fuck me. This was my personal hell and I knew right then and there that I had to tell her...and soon. “Don't.”
Her face scrunched. "Why? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, you didn't." I did.
“Asher what's going—"
I had no choice but to cover up my fumble somehow. If I didn't...she would know something was up. Teenage guys didn't stop in the middle of a hookup...not unless they got caught or came.
Then again, most teenage guys weren't blackmailed via the tail end of an unwanted blow job caught on video camera and a naked picture of their girl.
My life was a mess.
Guilt snagged me again, only this time, I reassured myself that I was going to tell her the truth. There was no other option at this point. I couldn't have this shit hanging between us any longer.
The world could think whatever they wanted about me. Breslin's thoughts about me were all that mattered. I'd let her decide what we should do about Kyle, the tape, her picture and we'd take it from there...together.
After prom.
Breslin wouldn't admit it, but I knew she was excited about it.
As much as she tried to pretend she didn't care about being prom queen or any of that crap as she called it—the way her eyes lit up and the fact that she worked non-stop doubles at her job on the weekends for the last three months saving up for a dress, told me all I needed to know.
My girl wanted the night to be special. Therefore, I was going to do everything in my power to make sure it was.
Breslin was going to have the time of her life, because at the very least, she deserved that before I pulled the rug out from underneath her.
I walked around to the other side of the desk. "I don't want your mouth right now,” I lied, because there wasn't a part of Breslin I didn't want. “I want these."
I held her tits and slid my dick between her cleavage.
I was an asshole and I was certain I'd earned my seat in hell for this, but I didn't care.
My balls tingled and I groaned. I'd been a razor's edge away from coming since the moment my finger slipped inside that sweet pussy of hers. There was no way I could hold back any longer. “Fuck, Breslin. I'm gonna come all over these tits."
It wasn't a request, it was a warning.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and gave me a devilish grin. “So do it.”
And that's all it took. My come jetted out all over those perfect tits of hers and for a moment, I felt every part of my body relax.
Until the door opened and in walked Mr. McGinty.
The senile, albeit harmless; science teacher the school desperately wanted to get rid of but the students fought to keep every year because he let so much shit slide due to his mental incompetence.
"Holden, what in the Sam Hill are you doing over there?"
And here I thought it was obvious.
"Oh my God," Breslin whispered, loud enough for only me to hear. I bent over and tried to shield her with my own body as much as I could.
McGinty cleared his throat. "Turn around, Holden. And for Christ's sake pull up your pants. That lily-white ass of yours is damn near blinding."
Breslin's lips pulled into a smile and she snorted. I fought like hell to hold back my own laughter. This was probably one of the worst-case scenarios after a hookup—but as usual with Breslin—nothing was ever as bad as it could have been.
She had a way of turning the worst things into the best things.
“Um—” I paused. I was pretty sure he hadn't even seen her underneath me yet. Maybe there was still a way out of this.
"Are you hard of hearing, boy? I said pull up your pants and turn around."
Or not.
I smiled down at Breslin—we were toast and she knew it. "Afraid I can't do that, Mr. McGinty."
"Why the hell not!"
“We're gonna get in so much trouble,” Breslin whispered before she started laughing again.
I took a deep breath, covered her tits with my hands, and straightened myself. "Because I have the world's most gorgeous girl underneath me. And I gotta be honest with you, McGinty. There's no way in hell I'm letting you see her fantastic tits. They're for my eyes only."
Breslin slapped my shoulder. "Smooth, Asher. Real smooth."
"Thank God,” he said, the relief apparent in his tone. “For a minute, I thought you were urinating on Mrs. Henley's plant. That woman's a goddamned whack job. She would have demanded you be benched for next week's game."
Breslin raised a brow and I bit back another round of laughter. Not only was football season over, this wasn't Mrs. Henley's classroom.
He banged on the door. "Now get dressed, Holden.” His footsteps stopped. “The both of you."
When he shut the door behind him we both burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
I leaned my forehead against hers and kissed the tip of her nose. "I love you."
She looked down. "I bet you say that to all the girls covered in your come."
I stood up and wiped her chest with my jersey. "Shit, I'm sorry."
She sat up and proceeded to get dressed. "Don't be." She wiggled her eyebrows. "I had a lot of fun.”
Just when we were about to walk out the door, she reached for my hand and squeezed it. “We're okay, right?”
My stomach dropped. “Of course. Why wouldn't we be?”
Her brows pinched together. “It's just—” She fidgeted with her hands. “I haven't said anything because I didn't want you to think I was being one of those girls...but something's been kind of off with us for a few months.”
I opened my mouth but she continued, “I know it's probably my fault. I keep saying that us going to different colleges will be the end of us.”
“It doesn't have to be—”
She reached for my hand again. “I know. I don't want it to be.” She blew out a breath. “I don't want to break up.”
A tear slipped from her eye and I brushed it away. “I have faith in us. I think we'll make it. Or at least I think we owe it to one another to try.”
I wasn't sure how it was possible for a single statement to break your heart and put it together at the same time.
"And just so you know,” she added. “I love you, too.” Another tear fell. “I love you big.”
I pulled her hand to my lips, warmth spreading through me, and for the first time in my life that didn't involve me being on the football field...I said a prayer.
Please, God...fix me. Fix me so I don't have to lose her.
Three hours before Prom...
“Thanks, Mrs. Callahan. Breslin's going to love it.”
She beams at me and fixes her hair. “You look very handsome, Asher.”
I hold back my laugh. I'm an asshole, but even I had my limits. Laughing at an 80-year-old woman who was sweet as sugar was one of them.
Instead I smile and swipe my credit card. “Thanks—”
I stop mid-sentence when I catch his reflection in the security camera of the flower shop.
Mrs. Callahan hands me the receipt and I straighten my spine. I'm getting ready to walk out the door, but Kyle grabs my shoulder. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don't.” I glance at my watch. “I'm running late.”
“Prom isn't for another three hours. Give me five minutes out in the parking lot.” He drops his voice to a whisper. “Please, Asher.”
I push past him. “Fine.”
I can hear his footsteps behind me as I make my way out to my truck.
I silently debate murdering him and paying off any potential witnesses.
Especially when I spin around and he crushes his mouth against mine.
I shove him off me. “What the fuck!” I pull my arm back, intending to sail it straight into his face but the shithead says, “I'm in love with you, Asher.” Before he breaks out into a fit of sobs.
I open the door to my truck. “You're out of your mind, Kyle.” I place Breslin's corsage on the passenger seat. “Real shit? I honestly think you need help, man.”
I turn back around to face him. “I'm telling Breslin about you...about what you did.”
He wipes his eyes and they turn hard. “I think that's a bad move.”
I snort and cross my arms. Of course, he would think that, he's the fucker trying to blackmail me.
He holds up a hand. “Forget the arrangement between us and forget that I'm in love with you.” He gestures between us. “I'm talking about the elephant in the room that you won't acknowledge.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“The longer you keep denying it, the worse it will get. Take it from me. You're going to snap one day and sooner or later, it's all going to come to a head.”
He takes a step forward. “Would you rather break it to Breslin now? Or seven years from now when she's pushing out your first kid and you're paying for blow jobs on the down low from the men seeking men section of Craigslist?”
I lift my chin and glare at him. “I love her—”
“I know you do.” His expression turns serious. “But you're going to hurt her, it's inevitable. There's something that you need...something she can never give you.”
“You don't know what you're talking about, I'm not gay.” I pause. “And even if I was into that shit...I'm into Breslin more.”
“That's not the way it works. You're still at the beginning stages, Asher. Or as the rest of us who have already been there like to refer to it—the denial and confused stage. But sooner or later, you'll realize the truth. And then you'll realize there will always be a piece of yourself that you can't share with her. A piece she won't ever be capable of understanding.”
He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “And not for nothing...but don't you think you owe it to yourself to explore the side of you that you're so afraid of? Don't you think you owe it to yourself to be yourself?”
I narrow my eyes and he takes another step forward. “I'm sorry about blackmailing you. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but trust me when I tell you that I have no other choice.”
He looks down. “But that doesn't mean we can't make the best out of the situation. I can give you the things she can't...and she deserves to know the truth. Hate me all you want, but you know I'm right.”
I open my mouth but he cuts me off. “You have until tomorrow morning to make your final decision.”
To say I'm confused would be an understatement. Hell, I'm practically getting whiplash from how often Kyle's changing the stakes. “Decision? What decision?”
He starts backing away. “The next four years with me. Or the rest of your life without football, your family's money...and most of all, yourself. The real you.” He snickers. “But hey...you'll have Breslin, right?”
He throws open his car door. “Depending on what kind of truth you decide to give her.” His gaze softens. “But if you decide to come clean for real—I'll still be here when she smashes your heart into a thousand pieces...because she's going to. She'll never accept you.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Like I said before, I'm sorry about blackmailing you. But I'm not sorry about giving you an ultimatum, because no matter which road you choose to go down tonight...you'll end up with me.”
I hop in my truck and rev the engine.
That's what he thinks...but he doesn't know Breslin.
He doesn't understand what we have. I have no doubt that things will be complicated after I tell her the truth...but they won't be broken.
2 hours after Prom...
“It's not what you think. I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I swear to God, I never meant to hurt you."
Please, Breslin. Don't do this.
She shakes her head and walks to the door.
When she stops and looks at me, my stomach free falls, because I know the next question out of her mouth before she even utters it. "Who?"
I can feel the color drain from my face. I don't know how to even begin to explain the Kyle situation and I'm almost positive she doesn't give a fuck.
But still, I have to try. I swallow hard and open my mouth, preparing to tell her everything.
Until she shoots me such a venomous look and says, "Kyle Sinclair."
I give her a small nod, because the look in her eyes tells me what a piece of shit I am.
The look in her eyes tells me that even if she knew the truth—that I didn't want what Kyle did, and that it really fucked me up. And that even if she knew just how scared and confused I am and how much I need her—none of it would make a bit of difference to her now.
I fucked up. I lost her.
He was right.
"I never want to see you again."
Her words feel like a boulder on my chest and I can actually feel my heart crack when she slams the door behind her.
I brace myself against the wall of the hotel hallway and take another swig of my drink.
It burns like hell going down but it's nothing compared to the other feeling barreling into me.
She's gone.
And not just in the she broke up with me sense. More like the— her father said she left town for good sense.
Of course, I didn't believe the drunk asshole when he told me—but when I pushed past him and ran into her bedroom, everything was missing.
That's when he offered me a beer.
And one beer turned into five more.
Until I left in search of something stronger to cope with the pain.
My phone vibrates and I have to concentrate to see the text.
Kyle: I'm inside the room. Got the key from the front desk.
Yeah, I should have seen that one coming.
Asher: Did you bring it?
Kyle: Sure did.
He better not be lying because I'm not in the right state to listen to my conscience at the moment.
There's only one thing, correction two things I want from Kyle right now, but I'll settle for one.
I'll sell my soul for the other.
I finish off the bottle of whiskey and stagger to the hotel room. I'm so drunk I barely manage to get the card in the door, but I start to sober when I remember the mission I'm on.
Get Breslin's picture.
I find him sitting on the bed when I walk in and he snickers. “Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Get up.”
Apprehension flashes in his eyes for a beat before he walks over to me. “I'm not giving you the video, Asher.”
“Then I'm not giving you my dick.” When he opens his mouth, I cut him off, “That's what you really want, right?”
“The video's mine until we graduate college.”
I figured as much. Lucky for him there's something even more important that I want. “I want Breslin's picture.”
When he looks like he's going to object, I make my move.
He's so stunned he almost trips over the small table when I back him into the wall behind him.
The groan that erupts from him when I press my mouth to his makes me sick.
Not because it's a guy...but because of the manipulating asshole attached to the lips I'm kissing.
He reaches for my zipper but I'm already three steps ahead of him.
“Jesus,” he sputters when I spin him around and press him against the wall.
I feel his entire body shake underneath me when I bring his hand over my dick. “You want this?”
“You know I do.”
“Then give me Breslin's picture and leave her out of this little arrangement permanently. She's gone, Kyle. Whatever your reason for pulling this shit is, it has nothing to do with her. She doesn't deserve this.”
When he looks like he's still not going to cave, I trail my tongue along his neck and nip at his skin. “You want me to fuck you right now?”
“Yes.” He closes his eyes. “Please.”
I thrust my cock against his ass. “You want this dick for the next four years?”
“God, yes,” he whimpers.
I drag my teeth along the shell of his ear. “Then drop your fucking pants and give me the picture.”
He mutters a curse and reaches inside his pocket. I snatch the picture and rip it to shreds.
I motion for him to give me the USB and the disk next and he does. “This all of it?”
When he nods, I pin him with a stare. “It better be.”
I walk over to the nightstand and smash both the USB and disk with an ashtray.
Then I walk back over to him and grab his neck. “Bend over.”
He looks nervous and my dick twitches.
His pants barely hit the floor when I'm entering him in a flash and he cries out in pain. “You didn't use lube.”
I squeeze his throat and pump into his ass again, harder this time. “You weren't gentle when you fucked me, Kyle. I'm just returning the favor.”