Chapter 7 Crossing lines.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Crossing Lines
REID
He wins.
He wins?
Who the fuck does he think he is? I’m going to kill him.
It takes me a second to pull myself together. My dick is still leaking. My whole body is still trembling. I spent the entire week pissed, on edge, and so damn hungry I refused to touch myself. I wouldn’t let Chloe touch me either. It felt wrong to let her blow me when he was the reason I was hard in the first place.
Only for him to make me come in less than five seconds.
How humiliating.
This is not something he’s going to win. I won’t let him.
I linger under the shower, letting the water wash away the evidence. His touch still lingers. My skin feels scalded.
I dress fast and rush out of the locker room, but he’s already gone.
I don’t bother tying my shoelaces on the way to the car. My heart pounds hard enough that I can hear it. My head feels heavy. My stupid dick is still hard. Why is it still hard? I feel drugged. Disoriented. How does he have this much effect on me?
This cannot stand.
I drive out of school like a madman. Wind tears through my hair, but nothing is enough to ground me. Blood rushes in my ears. My body moves on autopilot until, finally, I get home.
I don’t lock the gates. I don’t park properly.
I jump out, slam the door, and take the stairs two at a time.
His door is open. He’s leaning against the wall with a cigarette between his lips and that knowing look in his eyes—like he expected me to lose my shit. Like he knew I’d come.
I’ve played straight into his hands, and it only feeds the rage pounding through me.
“Back for more? So soon?” He grins and blows out smoke. “Or let me guess—you’re here to tell me how disgusted you feel. How it means nothing that you came all over my hands in s—”
“Stop talking.”
I close the distance in two strides, rip the cigarette from his mouth, and crush it under my shoe. Then I slam my mouth onto his.
The familiar shiver rips down my spine. My whole body comes alive. My heart stutters.
Why does he make me feel like this? What is it about him that changes everything? Why does he make me want to throw it all away? Why does he fucking taste so good?
I drag him closer, fingers sliding into his thick, soft hair. He’s just as hungry. I don’t think about how wrong this is. I don’t think about the implications. I don’t think at all. My brain blanks, and I let it—because the last thing I want to do is count the lines we’re crossing.
He cups my jaw, tilts my head, and slides his tongue deep.
My cock jerks. A moan rumbles out of my chest.
The fight almost drains out of me—until I remember this is Saint.
I shove him off.
He hits the wall with a huff. His eyes are dark. Matching mine.
“You’ll never win. Not here. Not ever.” I yank him back by the shirt.
He grunts, then chuckles, but the sound dies when I grab his cock through his shorts.
My pulse slows as I feel him throb against my palm. My mouth waters. I pull him out aggressively—
And my blood runs cold.
He’s pierced.
A silver ring runs through the tip of his cock, already glistening with precum.
“Too scared?” he teases, amused.
Of course he has a pierced cock.
I came here to get even—to jerk him off and walk away. This changes everything.
I sink to my knees.
His smile vanishes.
I pull him closer, one arm locked around his ass, the other wrapping around his thick, veined length. He’s huge. I’ve never done this before, but I’m starving for it. I take him into my mouth slowly.
“R… Reid.” His voice cracks, uncertain. Shocked.
I sink deeper. His musk bursts across my tongue. I pull back just enough to roll my tongue through the ring at his tip, licking away the precum. My own dick throbs painfully. I grind my hips against nothing, desperate for friction.
“Come on. Take it all.” He’s breathless now.
I do.
I hollow my cheeks and suck, one hand fondling his heavy balls. Salt, heat, and want flood my mouth. He pushes deeper. My eyes water as my throat stretches around him. I bob my head, messy and eager.
“Gonna fuck your mouth now.”
He fists my hair and does exactly that—thrusting deep, the piercing dragging against my tongue with every stroke. I don’t stop working his balls. When I graze him with my teeth, he jerks hard.
“Fuck… fuck—”
Hot cum spills down my throat. He holds me there, cock buried deep, filling my mouth until he’s spent. Only then does his grip soften into something like a caress.
I pull off. A thick string of cum connects my lip to his dick before it breaks.
I stand.
He crashes his mouth into mine immediately, shoving me back against the wall, sucking on my tongue like he’s trying to taste himself. When he grinds his knee against my aching cock, my brain turns to static. Embarrassing, needy sounds pour out of me. I want to come. I want to come on his tongue. I want to fuck his throat. I want him to ruin me.
He drops his mouth to my neck and sucks hard, fingers digging into my lower back. I drag him closer, chasing the pressure of his body, the thick line of his cock against me—
The front door opens downstairs.
“I’m home!” June calls.
Saint steps back but doesn’t let go of me completely.
“Fuck.” Reality slams into me.
He kisses me once more, hard, deliberate, then nips my lower lip. I shove him off.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hiss. Rage and panic burn through me in equal measure.
Something flashes in his eyes. He nods slowly.
“Ah. I see. This boring dance again. Go ahead. Pretend there’s nothing here.”
“Fuck you.”
I storm out on weak knees, the taste of him still thick on my tongue.
