Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Holy fuck.
Fiery lust surges through me, making me desperate to strip him down and drag my tongue all the way to his dick.
I want to suck him until he’s empty and crying out my name.
I guess you really don’t like Mia.
The thought hits me right in the gut, souring my mood. I do fucking like Mia. I love her. And that’s why it’s been so damn hard.
Because this.
Men.
Fuck.
Drew sucks on my bottom lip, nips at it, and then pulls away. “You’re drunk. You need sleep.”
I boldly rub my palm over his dick in his jeans. “You could sleep with me.”
“Nah,” Drew rasps out, gently pushing my hand away. “You’re going to regret this shit tomorrow.”
Maybe.
Maybe not.
I roll onto my back and watch as he slides out of my bed. A chill settles in my bones. Lonely and aching. Maybe Drew letting me suck him off isn’t the answer, but letting him go after that hot kiss doesn’t sit right with me either.
“Drew,” I grunt out.
He stops with his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”
“You’re a good kisser.”
His head turns and he flashes me one of his one-dimpled grins. “You too, man.”
“We should do it again sometime.”
He grunts out a laugh. “Go to sleep, Ashton.”
“Think of me when you take care of that boner,” I tease. “I’ll be thinking of you.”
I’m not rewarded with an answer. He leaves without another word. I shove my hand down into my sweats and grab my neglected dick.
I think of Drew, just like I promised.
Problem is, I think of Mia too.
And fuck, if that doesn’t make everything more confusing.
I can’t believe we kissed.
What the hell is wrong with me?
All week, I’d agonized over what happened with Brayden. It tore me up, but I resigned myself to the fact he was going to want to act like nothing ever happened. He did just that. Once he cooled off, we went back into truce territory.
What I never expected was to end up in Ashton’s bed with my tongue down his throat. I don’t like guys. It’d only ever been Brayden. I’ve fucked around with girls and girls only. Brayden and I are on a totally different level that is based on friendship and history. But guys? Never. Until Ashton.
Fucking hell.
It was nice, too. He kisses like he talks. Taunting. Teasing. Just fucking with you because he can. I was sucked into this energy that Ashton puts out. My horny-ass body, once again, forgot all the fucking rules and was ready to get naked with a guy—this guy.
Thank God I managed to pull back and put space between us.
Kissing him was a mistake.
Ashton is in love with Mia. It’s sad to watch the anguish in his hazel eyes. To see him fight everything he’s ever known to try and get to the place he wants to be with Mia. Last night he was drunk and vulnerable. I’m an asshole for kissing him back.
I try not to think of the way he’d touched my dick over my jeans. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve been with someone. A few more reckless seconds and there’s no telling what could have happened between us.
Ashton and I can’t be anything.
As much as I give him shit about the labels, there’s a reason for some of them. Like my being a coach here and his dad being the one who got me the job. I can’t lose this job. Not over a kiss.
My thoughts drift back to Bray.
I close my eyes, remembering the unfiltered emotions rippling from him. With Bray, he’s always just bursting with everything he’s feeling. It manifests itself into anger, but he can’t mask his pain no matter how hard he tries. Each time I’m around him, I want to gather him in my arms and try to alleviate some of it so he doesn’t have to feel so much. After kissing Ashton, it makes me realize that Bray and I have more than just history pulling us together. There’s a sexual energy and attraction infused with it too.
Ashton thought he was a mess.
I’m the goddamn mess here.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown: Hey, it’s Mia. How are things?
I glance at the time. It’s almost ten.
Me: Okay.
My phone starts to ring. With a sigh, I answer it, my voice gravelly from having just woken up. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Mia greets, her voice sounding sultry and sexier than usual over the phone. “That didn’t sound like a good text. Ashton okay?”
Her concern for him has guilt clawing up my throat.
“He’s… upset.” But then I made out with him to make it all better.
“About me?”
I can’t exactly tell her all the details, so I leave it vague for now. “He came home all dressed up, but he was wasted.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “Dinner with his parents. It never ends well.”
A pang of sadness hits me in the chest. My dad was a good parent and so are Bray’s mom and dad. I couldn’t imagine having parents who drive you to drinking.