Page 5 of Bedeviled By The Jock (Halloween Temptation #3)

A na squeals.

Screams burst through the house, followed by a wave of laughter. Someone yells, “Happy Halloween, suckers!”, and a round of cheers goes up.

It takes a second for my eyes to adjust, and when they do, I can vaguely make out the outlines of Josh, Ana, and the rest of the people gathered in the kitchen. The only source of light comes from the full moon shining through the stained glass windows.

“What the fuck?” Ana mutters. “Are we having a blackout?”

“Told you this place is haunted,” Josh says, a grin in his voice.

“It’s just a power cut, I’m sure. Nothing supernatural,” I say, trying to sound reasonable.

“But the timing is suspicious, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

Before Josh can answer, Ana speaks up.

“I’m gonna check what’s going on.” She pulls out her phone and uses the flashlight to guide her toward the living room, her heels clicking against the tiles.

A few others follow behind her, murmuring to each other.

But Josh and I don’t move. We stay right where we are, standing inches apart, surrounded by darkness.

He’s so close, the warmth of his body radiates onto mine. I feel his breath on my skin, smell the woodsy scent of his cologne, hear the hitch in his breathing.

My hands ache with the urge to touch him again, so I shove them into my pockets.

“What do you mean, the timing is suspicious?”

“Well, the ghost is feeding off our energy. And there was a lot of energy building up in here, wasn’t there?”

I swallow. Is he talking about... what I think he is?

“Are you scared?” Josh whispers.

“Of a power cut? Please.”

“Of the dark, then? Of the things you can’t see.”

“No,” I whisper back, not sure why we’re whispering at all. “Are you?”

“Why would I be? I’ve got an angel on my side.”

It takes me a second to realize he means me.

“Well, I’m more of a fallen angel,” I murmur. “A corrupted one.”

“Hm. A bad angel. My favorite kind.”

His husky tone sends a shiver through me.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it refuses to budge.

The darkness makes it even harder to tell what’s going on.

I can’t read his face, can’t make sense of his intent.

Is he playing mind games with me? Is this how he talks to everyone?

He can’t possibly know the effect he has on me.

I’ve done my best to keep a lid on it, right?

“You know,” Josh continues. “I was scared. Earlier. But not anymore.”

I can feel the weight of his stare in the dark. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“W-what were you scared of?”

“I was scared that you wouldn’t show up tonight.”

Wait, what?

I blink at him.

“Why would you care about that? We barely know each other.”

He leans closer, takes my hand out of my pocket, and guides it back to his chest. The contact sends sparks of electricity skittering over my skin.

“Then let me change that, Sebastian. Let me get to know you. Because you have to feel it, too, don’t you? This pull between us. This… energy. It’s undeniable.”

I can barely breathe. Is this a joke? A dream? Some hallucination caused by that orange punch?

Because there’s no way Josh just said that. No way this big, muscular, devilishly handsome quarterback is standing in front of me, pressing my hand to his chest, telling me he feels the same things I do. There has to be some ulterior motive.

“But you’re… I mean, you’re this big football star. Girls flock to you. Why would you…”

He shrugs. “I’m not into girls.”

The words ring in my ears.

“It’s not public knowledge. Never felt like announcing it. But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

I gape at him, struggling to find words.

He guides my hand lower, over the hard planes of his abs, down the sharp V that disappears into the waistband of his shorts, along the trail of hair below his belly button.

Lower still.

Until my palm presses against the unmistakable outline of a big, hard cock straining against the fabric.

The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and my fingers flex instinctively.

“Believe me now?” he rasps.

My eyes have adjusted enough to the dark that I can make out the curve of his lips and the gleam in his eyes. With the moonlight catching on his two horns from behind, he looks every bit as seductive as the devil he dressed up as.

I swallow thickly, my voice hoarse as I whisper, “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“But… Ana…”

“What about her?”

“She likes you.”

“And I like you, Sebastian. A lot. You’re the one I want. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same. The way you looked at me at the patch…”

I bite my lip. And here I thought I was being subtle.

“You were trying to hide it, weren’t you? But you couldn’t. It was adorable. And so freaking hot.”

Heat spreads from my neck to the tips of my ears. He liked that? Me getting all flustered?

“You can squeeze, you know,” he says. “Go ahead.”

“Josh…”

“You want to. You’re dying to. It’s written all over your face. Give that cock a good squeeze, Sebastian.”

“I… I…”

“Allow yourself to feel this. It’s okay. Touch me.”

“Fuck, Josh...” I breathe, but my fingers do exactly what he says. I squeeze, tight, the heat of his dick pulsing through the fabric. “I… God, you’re hard.”

“For you.” He leans closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I’m so fucking hard for you.”

I let out a needy whimper, unable to hold back any longer. I can barely breathe. Barely think. All my senses are focused on the throbbing erection beneath my fingers.

“Can I touch you, too?” he asks.

“Yes,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Josh reaches out, and his big, warm hand settles on the front of my pants. He squeezes gently, the pressure sending a bolt of pleasure through me.

“Hm. Someone’s a little hard, too,” he murmurs.

I can hear the smirk in his voice, the triumphant glee. It must feel great to reduce a guy to a horny, whimpering mess.

His thumb rubs along the length of my cock, stroking the denim, and my hips twitch forward, chasing the friction.

For a moment, I forget everything. The party, the blackout, Ana.

I barely register the people still nearby, chatting and laughing, waiting for the lights to come back.

All I can focus on are those big, strong, calloused fingers wrapped around my aching cock, squeezing, rubbing. And the weight of him in my hand.

“How does that feel, Sebas? Can I call you Sebas?”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “It feels... God, it feels... so good.”

“Mm. Tell me. What went through your head earlier when you saw me? You still haven’t said.”

“At the patch?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought... Well…”

“Come on, don’t be shy. You’ve got my cock in your hand, you can tell me.”

“You want the truth?”

“Always.”

“At first, I couldn’t stand you. But that’s on me. It’s just guys like you…”

“Guys like me?”

“Hot, popular jocks... They’re often so full of themselves.”

He chuckles, and I feel the deep rumble vibrate through him. “Fair enough. But we need that cockiness. On the field, it can be the difference between winning and losing.”

“Yeah, I guess. Sorry. That was rude of me. You’re not?—”

“It’s okay, Sebas. I’m not easily offended. Keep going.”

“But when you looked at me,” I say, squeezing his erection as a shudder ripples through me, remembering the moment he caught my gaze, “there was this... um…”

“This what?”

“This intensity. Like you could see right through me.”

“Oh, I could, Sebas. I still can. You’re practically transparent. So easy to read.”

I squirm. “I’m not.”

“You are.” He leans in, his mouth brushing my ear. “You were eye-fucking me so hard.”

“I wasn’t,” I squeak, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Okay, maybe a little, but... I always thought I was straight.”

Josh slides his hand up to the waistband of my pants and slips his fingers underneath, brushing the sensitive tip of my dick. It throbs at his touch, and a bead of precum gushes out.

I gasp.

“You know,” he murmurs, his fingers smearing the wetness around, “maybe it was never the jocks you disliked. Maybe it was what they stirred up in you.”

My breath hitches. God, why does that make so much sense? Is that why I’ve always felt this way? Because deep down, I knew I wasn’t straight, and guys like Josh brought that truth to the surface?

“Jesus, maybe I am easy to read,” I laugh nervously.

The corner of his mouth curls into a smile. “Just a little. But that’s what makes you so damn cute.”

Cute. No one’s ever called me that before, and the sound of it in his deep, rumbling voice goes straight to my cock.

That’s when the last of my restraint snaps.

My free hand flies to one of his horns and grips it. His eyes widen, his mouth parts in surprise, and I yank him in, crushing our lips together. Hard. Harder than I’ve ever kissed a girl.

He answers with equal force, his tongue sliding into my mouth, teeth clashing, a low growl rising from his chest. His stubble scrapes rough against my skin.

His mouth is wet and warm and sweet, tasting like the orange punch we were drinking moments ago. I chase the flavor, desperate for more, desperate to get him closer, and his fingers dive deeper into my pants, curling around my throbbing cock.

It’s sloppy. Greedy. Primal.

Josh’s other hand comes up and tangles in my hair, holding me in place while our tongues tangle, licking, thrusting, fighting for control.

I keep squeezing his cock, savoring the feeling of his hard flesh pulsing in my palm. He bucks into my touch, a moan rumbling from the back of his throat.

We’re so caught up in the moment that we don’t notice the lights coming back on. It’s only when the music starts playing and the crowd erupts into cheers that we open our eyes and pull apart.

I blink against the bright kitchen light, and when my vision clears, I see someone standing right next to us.

Someone in a skintight witch costume, with copper-red hair and wide eyes.