Page 51 of Catcher's Lock

“Give it to me, Rocket. Just like that. C’mon. Yes, fuck.Yessss.” He hisses the last with clenched teeth as I groan and spasm through the brutal release, my head falling back against the wall and my vision going white. “Shiiit,” he breathes raggedly, resting his forehead on mine. “You’re fucking sexy when you come, Rocket.”

My knees aren’t working properly, and I’m afraid of what my orgasm-addled brain might say if I don’t escape the heady nearness of him, so I tuck my spent cock back into my briefs and slide down the wall to check on Benji.

“You okay?” I ask, my hand hovering over his swollen lips. He breaks into a grin.

“Yep. That was—” He breaks off as Gem’s hand slips from his hair to shove at his shoulder.

“You can go now.”

“Rude,” Benji says, but he doesn’t look particularly put out. He looks…languid. Sated. Like he genuinely got off on Gem using him and me practically ignoring him while I came down his throat.

“I’m an asshole. You liked it. We’re done here.” Gem doesn’teven watch the guy walk away as he settles on his heels to study me. “Can I touch you now?”

My tart reply dies on my lips at the sudden change in his tone. All his dirty-talking bravado is gone, leaving hollow vulnerability in its place—a fear reflected in my own aching chest.

This isn’t how it was supposed to happen.

As the weight of the last hour crashes over me, I realize I don’t have the strength left to fight the truth.

“Always.”

The tension bleeds from the corners of his eyes, softening the line of his shoulders. With surprisingly gentle fingers, he tugs my jeans back over my hips and starts to close the buttons of my fly.

“Good. Because that’s the last time I hold myself back to follow your stupid rules.”

“That was you holding back?”

He groans, sinking to the floor beside me and resting his head on the wall. “You have no idea.”

I tilt my head to look at him. “You wanted to kick his ass, didn’t you?”

“I wanted to take his place.”

In this moment—sprawled together on the sticky floor in the wreckage of my intentions—I believe him.

His hand comes up to splay across my throat, thumb heavy on my throbbing pulse.

“Don’t make me watch someone else touch you like that again, Rocket. I won’t survive it a second time.”

I shake my head—whether it’s in agreement or denial is a question I can’t answer. His grip tightens for a moment, before he sighs and drops his hand to his lap, adjusting himself with a wince. Even in the dim light, I can see the wet spot staining the front of his jeans.

“Really?”

He shrugs, a rueful twist to his mouth. “You’re fucking sexy when you come.”

Despite everything, despite the whole disaster of a night and my fragile trust and bruised heart, a slow smile spreads across my face.

Gemiah Farrel gave me a blow job—even if he used someone else’s mouth to do it—and he fuckingcame in his pants.

18

Spring Break

Gemiah

Age 21 (Then)

Ifucked up.