Page 13

Chapter Thirteen

Jolie

Wiping the makeup from my face, I take off my mask for the night. I’m still thrown by the comment that Case made yesterday. I’m positive I have heard it before, but just can’t place it.

My reflection stares back at me in the mirror, now free of bruises and scratches from the night I was kidnapped. I’m no closer to finding out who the masked men were—although I’m almost positive it was the guys.

I concede my issues are another day’s problem and make my way to bed. I plan to find Jimmie at school tomorrow and see if he is willing to help me piece together some of the puzzle; maybe I need an outsider’s perspective.

I lie awake staring into the darkness, my mind not able to shut off, when my door slowly opens. I can immediately tell it’s Boston by the shape of his body—average height but the type of stocky that makes up for those inches. He closes the door and doesn’t say a word until he reaches the side of my bed.

“Are you awake?” he whispers.

“I sure am,” I reply. Usually, our encounters are fuelled by anger or hatred... maybe not hatred, that’s possibly too strong of a word.

“Can I lie down with you?” His tone is soft, a side of Boston I didn’t think was possible.

“Um... okay. What is wrong with everyone? You’re all acting weird... Are you smoking crack?”

Boston laughs as he slips under the covers. “It’s been a shit week for us all.”

“I have noticed. Everyone is acting strange and you’re all being somewhat nice to me. Well, except Davis. I haven’t seen him.”

“He had some things to sort out.”

I don’t reply. Boston pulls me into his side and throws his arm over my waist, his fingers lightly rubbing my bare stomach, causing tingles to flood my body. I can’t deny the connection I have with him—Laughn too—and it freaks me out. Something in me is drawn to them.

“Boston,” I whisper.

“Mhmm?”

“I don’t cuddle. If I’m in bed with a guy, it’s for one reason.”

With my comment, Boston shifts as quick as lightning, moving his weight on top of me. My breath quickens and his eyes become hooded, telling me he came in for this exact reason. I want to know what his game is. He made the bet, and yet now he’s the first to willingly jump into my bed.

“I need this before everything comes crashing down,” he mutters, but doesn’t give me time to ask what he means. His lips press against mine and he isn’t gentle, though I wouldn’t expect anything less from Boston. Our mouths move together like we have been deprived of each other for our entire lives.

When we are both breathless and panting, a feral look is in his eyes, and the question of whether this will go further hangs in the air.

I nod, giving him my answer. He grips the edge of my shorts and slides them down my legs, taking my underwear with them.

Kneeling in front of me, his finger lightly feathers my skin as he slides it from my navel to my slit. A sigh slips from my lips. I didn’t expect softness from Boston. He is raw, and that’s how I want him.

“You need to fuck me; this gentle stuff is what boyfriends do. Are you boyfriend material Bost?—”

Large hands flip me to my stomach before pulling my ass high in the air.

“Remember, you asked for this,” is the only warning I get before he thrusts deep inside me.

Being stretched to accommodate his length earns him a scream from deep inside my soul. This is exactly what I needed.

My head is dragged back by his fingers, one hand lacing through my hair, his thrusts increasing in speed. He has complete control over my body. Urging me back with every thrust, his grip on my hip tightens, knowingly leaving bruises on my skin. With my hair pulled taut, I’m locked in place at his mercy.

An orgasm starts to build from deep inside. “Oh god, fuck me,” I moan.

“God can’t save you now,” he growls.

His thrusts slow, teasing out my orgasm. Chills glide across my sweat-covered body, his slow movement has my orgasm ready to burst, just teetering on the edge of euphoria.

“Please,” I pant out. “I need . . .”

“What do you need?” he asks. He pauses, still inside me, his hot skin pressed against my ass and his fingers relinquishing their assaulting grip on my hip. “Beg me.”

“I won’t ever beg,” I spit, pushing back against his body. A war brews between us. His hands grab my breasts, keeping me against him.

“I will give you what you want this time, as long as you scream for me.” He places a kiss on my neck.

“I said scream for me,” he demands, biting into my flesh when I’ve held my silence too long.

A scream is exactly what he gets. With a shove, he pushes me back to the bed, my face against the quilt cover and a hand between my shoulder blades, holding me in place. My ass in the air, his rapid movement draws back my orgasm, the loud cries of ecstasy echoing through the room and no doubt the entire floor. My mind doesn’t care if the whole world can hear me as I tip over the edge.

“Boston!” I scream as the powerful orgasm rolls through my body.

He shudders as he comes, collapsing on top of me, then rolling us to our sides. He hasn’t even pulled out, and I feel him still hard inside me. We lay there, momentarily sated and breathless.

When the cloudiness leaves my brain, all I can think of is one down and five to go. Deep in my gut I feel a connection with these guys, and maybe if all else fails and I can’t find Trace, staying here would be a good second option.

“Does that earn me a night in your bed?” he asks.

Any normal girl would feel used. I know he purposely fucked me from behind so he didn’t have to look at my face. However, I am perfectly fine with it; I got what I needed from him. If his end game was to spend the night in my bed, then so be it. Guess I will humour him for now.

“One night?”

He nods against my skin.

We fall asleep in minutes, Boston wrapped tight against my back, with his light snores lulling me to sleep.