Page 33 of Don’t Say You’re Sorry (Hawthorne University #2)

EASTON

Easton

I hate myself.

I hate you more.

PRESENT

A dam looks so hot wearing my Hawthorne Hawks shirt. It’s two sizes too big for him and hides the shape of his body, but that’s exactly what I like about it. I like the way his hazel eyes keep finding mine across the bar, too.

I was first in line when the doors to The Hideaway opened tonight, and I’ve been here ever since, watching him work and drinking way too many cocktails. I should stop, but stopping means no excuse to get close enough to talk to him.

I crook my fingers, and he comes toward me. I lean on the bar and put my mouth on his ear. “I want a Screaming Orgasm.”

He laughs, pulling back to look at me. “Smooth. I haven’t heard that one yet.”

“It wasn’t a line. I’ve never had one before. I want to try it.”

“Sure.” He gets to work making my cocktail, and I shamelessly ogle his body, the way his arm flexes as he shakes the mixer over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving mine. “Aren’t you bored?” he asks.

I slowly shake my head. I could never be bored watching him.

He smiles with his lip trapped between his teeth, shyly dropping his gaze as he pours my drink.

God, he’s so cute I could eat him.

And now I’m thinking about eating him.

My fists curl as I imagine bending him over this bar and fucking his ass with my tongue.

“Is the fact that you’re fucking your stepbrother supposed to be a secret?” Carter asks, resting his hip on the bar next to me. “’Cause if it is, you’re doing a shitty job keeping it. Everyone can see you drooling all over him.”

I turn my head toward Carter. “I’m not fucking him.”

“ Yet ,” he adds for me.

“And I’m not drooling.”

Lifting a hand, he wipes an imaginary drop of drool from my chin and sucks his thumb into his mouth. Adam scrunches his nose but says nothing, refusing to act like a jealous boyfriend. He’s a better person than I am. If Carter touched Adam like this, I’d break his fingers.

As if reading my thoughts, Carter blows Adam a kiss. I shove his head away and turn my attention back to my stepbrother—it’ll be his turn on the podium soon.

My gaze drops to my shirt on his body again, and I wet my lips at the thought of the marks I left on his chest this morning—marks people are going to see. I can’t tell if the butterflies in my stomach are from excitement or dread.

“What?” Adam asks, following my gaze and looking down at his body. “Are you regretting branding my bloody chest with your teeth?”

I shake my head and make a show of popping my knuckles. “Don’t worry, baby. I know my game plan.”

“We’ll see,” he mutters.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He ignores me as he mixes a few drinks for the group next to me.

“Seriously, E,” Carter says, leaning in so I can hear him over the music. “If you don’t want anyone to know about you two, you’re in trouble. I’d back off before he gets up on that podium if I were you.”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks about me and Adam.”

“Not even your parents?”

“Does this look like a place our parents would come to?”

He narrows his eyes at me. I widen mine, and he finally drops it. “Fine. I’m going to find a dick to suck.”

“Hey,” I call, and he stops. “You seem off. You all right?”

He glares. I laugh. He flips me off and disappears into the crowd.

I turn back to the bar to find Adam watching me. “What’s his problem?” he asks.

I tilt my head. “Don’t you know?”

He frowns. “You know what? I don’t care. It’s my turn.” He tips his chin at the podium in the middle of the dance floor.

He pulls the shirt off, wringing it between his hands as he rounds the bar.

He stops a couple feet in front of me, hesitating as if he’s waiting for permission.

I nod, and he closes the distance between us, pressing his lips to my cheek as he hands me my shirt and places something else in my hand.

“Still think you’re gonna win this game? ”

Before I can respond, he moves away, grabs the barrier of his podium, and pulls himself up.

I look down at the object he gave me, clenching my jaw as I wrap my fingers around the small black remote that controls the butt plug I gave him for Christmas four years ago.

He better be fucking with me. If he’s seriously shaking his ass up there with a butt plug inside him, I’m going to choke the shit out of him.

I’m gonna choke him while I fuck him in the bathroom. Goddammit.

Smugly, he moves his hips to the beat of the music, daring me with his eyes to make my move. Without breaking eye contact, I discreetly hit the button on the remote, and sure enough, he falters for a second, his lips parting slightly as he gasps.

This little shit.

He’s really wearing it. Right here in the open with his perfect body on display and a few dozen eyes eating up his every move.

But I’m the only one who knows this little secret— I’m the one with the remote—and it makes me feel a little better.

So does the fact that he’s up there wearing my marks with pride.

My handwriting tattooed on his chest. My teeth marks indented on the skin above it. My bruises. My guy.

Without taking my eyes off him, I move closer to the bar and yell to Megan, “I’m gonna need you to let him take a break.”

She chuckles. “He said you’d say that. He’s got thirty minutes.”

Perfect.

I hit the button again and watch as he curls his fingers around the bar, his knuckles turning white. I smirk. Game’s not over yet, baby.

Leaning back against the bar, I slide my hand into the pocket of my jeans and gradually increase the intensity of the toy in his ass, enjoying the way he squirms. When he realizes I’m not moving, he sends a glare my way. I don’t think he expected me to last this long.

But then he grabs the bar again and grinds his hips, rubbing his dick against the metal, making the people around him whistle and whoop.

A literal growl creeps up my throat. Fuck it.

He laughs as I push my way through the crowd, hop up on the podium with him, and squeeze his hip, forcing him to stop. “Enough. You win.”

He opens his mouth to gloat, but I don’t give him the chance, grabbing his arm and pulling him off the podium. He’s still laughing as I drag him toward the bar, heading to the door behind it that leads to the office and the staff bathroom.

A few people stare at us, but I don’t regret my reckless behavior.

Yet . Carter had a point earlier. I can’t let my relationship with Adam get back to our parents.

If anyone finds out who he is to me, hopefully they’ll just assume that I’m a protective, bossy older stepbrother, not that I’m an obsessed, jealous lunatic who wants to threaten anyone who looks at him.

In the bathroom, I shut the door, lock us in, and push him against the wall. “Brat.”

He’s breathing hard as he tips his head back, baring his neck to me. I drop my face to it, inhaling him and licking the sweat off his throat. He grabs my head, trying to hold me down on him, so I snatch his hands and pin them to the wall above his head.

“Did I say you could touch me?”

He pouts as I use the shirt he gave me to haphazardly tie his wrists together. It’s not my best work, but it’ll have to do.

“Turn around.”

He spins to face the wall, hissing through his teeth when I grab a fistful of his hair and pull his head back on my shoulder.

I press my lips to his ear. “Keep your hands on the wall and do not come,” I warn, wrapping my arms around him to unbutton his jeans.

I push them down to the tops of his thighs, cursing when I realize he’s not wearing underwear.

I’m about to lose my damn mind, and he’s loving every second of it.

“You okay back there, sunshine?”

“Shut up before I gag you.”

His shoulders shake with silent laughter.

I spit in my palm, wrap it around his dick, and squeeze, stroking him slowly. His laughter cuts off abruptly, and he moans. He’s rock hard in my hand, leaking precum over my knuckles, desperate for release.

I keep hold of him with one hand and use the other to find the plug with my fingers.

I play with it, twisting and pushing on it, and he writhes between me and the wall, rubbing his back and ass against my front.

I playfully smack his ass cheek, and he whimpers, arching his back and sticking his ass out even more.

“You want my mouth?”

He nods eagerly. I drop to my knees. Spreading his cheeks with my thumbs, I lick around the base of the plug, feeling the vibration on my tongue.

Needing to taste him, I carefully remove the toy and push my tongue inside him, just as I imagined doing at the bar earlier.

He moans even louder, widening his stance and pushing up onto his tiptoes.

“Can I move?” he asks.

I nod, and he pushes his ass back into my face, keeping his hands on the wall. Rolling his hips, he moves back and forth, fucking my tongue. I hold his hips as he rides it, letting him set his own pace.

“It’s not enough,” he gasps. “I want your dick inside me.”

I smile but don’t say anything.

“Please.”

“No,” I say, wiping my face with my forearm. “On your knees. Bend over. Ass in the air.”

He frowns at me over his shoulder, then lowers himself to the tiled floor and gets into position.

I scoot back on my knees to make room for him, my hand on his lower back, pressing him down as I pull my dick out and give myself a few strokes.

I’m already on the edge, so it doesn’t take me long to get there.

Pressing the tip of my cock to his hole, I come on him, watching with satisfaction as it drips down the crack of his ass to his balls.

He whines as I slide the plug back inside him. “You asshole,” he grumbles.

Grabbing his shoulder, I force him upright and press my chest to his back, reaching around him to pull his jeans back into place. “Back to work, baby. We’ll finish this at home.”

“Please,” he begs, arching into me. “I can’t go out there like this. I need to come.”

I hum, trailing a finger down his spine. “I thought exhibitionism wasn’t your kink.”

“I don’t care about that. You’re my kink.”

Smirking, I wrap my hand around his throat and press my lips to his cheek. “You made me wait three and half years for you. You can wait a few more hours for me.”