Page 30 of The Substitute (New York Gods #4)

TWENTY-EIGHT

TOBI

Hot water pounds down on my shoulders as I attempt to wake up.

I need to get caught up on homework and notes.

The semester just started, and I’m already behind.

Again. Savage is busy with his own classes and interviews, so I’m not getting to see him as much, and Ambrose is basically just here to sleep most days.

What the hell am I doing?

Flirting with Savage, then turning around and flirting with Ambrose. It can’t last. Ambrose has already admitted to getting jealous over Savage, so it’s only a matter of time before that explodes. Someone is going to demand I choose, and I won’t be able to.

I’m playing a dangerous game and I’m going to get hurt. Ambrose and Savage probably will, too. Since I catch feelings like a virus in a kindergarten classroom, there isn’t a way this ends that I’ll be left intact. I can’t even lie to myself anymore. I have very real feelings for both of them.

My eyes close, and I let myself get lost in a fantasy. Savage behind me, a hand on my throat to keep me still while Ambrose plays with me. Both of them teasing me until I no longer have intelligible words, just whimpers and whines.

I stroke myself, quickly getting to the edge of no return, panting into the steam while imagining their hands and mouths on me, whispered words of praise and dirty promises. My body tenses as pleasure shuts down my brain, and I spill cum onto the shower floor with a ragged moan.

“If you’re going to jack off in the shower.” Ambrose’s voice, muffled through the door, makes me jump. “You should at least invite me in to watch.”

“Why do you show up at the worst possible times?” I scrub my body quickly, a little embarrassed but also amused at being caught.

“I show up at the best times.” He’s smug, and I can hear the smile in his voice as I shut off the water.

“Were you thinking of me? Of my hands on you?”

Heat engulfs my face and chest since, yeah, I fucking was, but if I want any blood to be left in my brain, I need relief before I spend time with either Savage or Ambrose.

I dry myself off and grumble under my breath as I realize I didn’t bring clothes in here with me because I was alone when I got in. Ambrose isn’t normally home at this time of the day, so I thought I was clear.

While we’ve been messing around and he’s seen me naked multiple times now, I’m not comfortable just striding around without clothes. Something he does not share since he’s mostly naked all the time.

Wrapping the towel around my waist, I grab my dirty clothes and open the door to find him leaning on his forearm against the frame, wearing only boxer briefs. Okay, that’s sexy as fuck, and I can see why the booktok girls go crazy for it. Damn it.

Thank God I just came, so I don’t have to worry too much about a hard-on right now.

Ambrose pulls his lip between his teeth and rakes his gaze over me. “You look damn good.”

“Yeah, who knew a shower would do that?” I deadpan and push him with my palm to his chest, but instead of moving away, he puts his hand over mine and walks backward into our room. I have no choice but to follow him.

“You don’t have classes tonight, right?”

“No…why?”

A devilish smirk turns his innocent schoolboy face into something that promises debauchery. He’s going to be the death of me.

“Get comfy, then meet me out here on the couch.” Ambrose stops moving and drags his eyes over my body again. “Unless you want some help?”

I push him toward the door. “I have homework. I don’t have time for you to distract me.”

“I’ll make it worth your while—promise,” he calls after me, and I flip him the bird.

I close the door and let myself smile at the ridiculousness of him.

It takes me longer than I want to admit to find something decent to wear.

I don’t know what he has planned, so I don’t know if sweats are okay, and they aren’t exactly sexy.

Do I want to be sexy? I don’t know, but maybe?

He said comfortable, but does that actually mean comfortable, or does it mean casual?

I settle on some jeans that used to fit better and a t-shirt. After messing with my hair for a few minutes, I give up, shove my glasses on my face, and leave the room. I really need to get it cut and order contacts.

Ambrose is hot. He can get laid anywhere and only wears clothes when it’s forced upon him.

If he wants to hook up, he doesn’t have to stay here and bother with me.

Savage, too, if I’m being really honest with myself.

I want to relax into what appears to be affection, but there’s something holding me back.

Fear. It’s fear, you moron. You want them both and know you can’t have them, so by not asking for clarification or setting boundaries, you think you’re keeping yourself safe when in reality it’s a false sense of safety and you’re actually hurting yourself.

Fuck off, brain. No one asked you.

When I get to the living room, there’s a knock on the door, and Ambrose is quick to answer it. Smells like food. Savory and rich.

He smiles when he turns around and sees me. “Hey, you like Japanese ramen, right?”

“Yup.” I get distracted by the workout shorts he’s put on, sitting low on his hips. What is it about that strip of skin between the hipbones that is so hot?

“Good, go sit down at the coffee table and find something to watch.”

I blink and look at the living room we share with our other roommates.

“I really need to get some studying done.”

“That’s why we’re out here and not in the room.” He sets everything on the coffee table. The opaque plastic containers with our soup in them, chopsticks, forks and spoons, napkins, and sauces, all set up neatly. “What are you studying? Can I help?”

I open my container and twirl my chopsticks around. “Probably not.”

“Oh, right, because I’m just a dumb jock, right?”

The words are sarcastic, but I think I actually hurt his feelings, which wasn’t what I meant.

I give so much shit to Teddy for being an idiot that it’s reflex at this point.

I’ve lived in his shadow my entire life.

I love science, I always have, but because I can’t stop a puck from going into a net, no one fucking cares.

So I’ve been an asshole to him. It’s not his fault that everyone fawns over him or that he’s not book smart.

Logically, I know that, and it’s not fair. I should work on that.

“That’s not what I meant.” I shake my head, not knowing how to word this without sounding like a bigger asshole. “I barely understand it, and I haven’t missed a lecture.”

Ambrose is quiet for a minute before he reaches for my knee and gives it a squeeze. “I’m proud of you for going to class. What class is it for?”

“One of my physical chem classes.”

“Okay,” he chuckles. “I didn’t know chem had so many different classes.”

I smile at him, relieved for the break in tension. “You’re a business major, right?”

“You mean besides stick handling?” He winks at me, and I roll my eyes.

“Obviously.”

“Yeah,” he says with zero excitement.

“I can see you’re really passionate about it.” I lift some of the noodles from my container to eat.

“It wasn’t my choice, but I did what I had to do.”

That catches my attention. It’s not very often I see this grin and bear it side of him. I would assume it has something to do with his family or his dad, but I’m not sure how to go about the topic.

“What would you rather be studying?”

“I love marine biology. The ecosystems that create and sustain life in the harsh environment of the ocean are mind-blowing. The way life is created and evolved to survive in places that nothing else can is amazing.” Ambrose goes on, talking about everything from microscopic life forms to blue whales, the trenches vs the sunlight zone, the temperature of the water, and migration.

He’s animated in a way I’ve never seen him before.

The sparkle in his eye as he talks with his hands and tells me everything shows me how much he really loves this topic.

It’s adorable. “People think the Titanic is super deep—, almost four thousand meters—but that’s nothing on other parts of the ocean…

” He looks at me and his cheeks turn pink. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” I shake my head. “Tell me about it.”

Logically, I know not all athletes are dumb, but I seem to place them all in that category, so this proves that Ambrose is smart about more than just hockey, and it is enlightening in the best way.

Since I can’t play sports to save my life, I combat my lack of athletic ability with book smarts and sarcasm, but what do I do when someone is both smart and good at sports?

“I’d rather know more about you.”

I sigh and turn back to the food. “There’s nothing to know. I’m boring.”

Ambrose turns my face back toward him with a soft hand on my chin. “Not true. What I’ve learned so far certainly isn’t boring.”

“That can not possibly be true.” I find that I need some reassurance or a connection that’s been missing my entire life.

Closing the distance between us, I press our mouths together in a quick kiss.

It’s nowhere near satisfying, but it’s worth it.

Ambrose slides his hand to cup the back of my neck and pulls me in to take another kiss, this time angling his head and deepening it until all there is…

is him. Smell, taste, touch, nothing but Ambrose.

He groans when my tongue touches his, dancing to an erotic beat that makes my insides quiver.

Ambrose uses his hold on me to get me into his lap, though I don’t fight him.

I’m straddling him the next minute, chest to chest, with his hand on my ass.

We’re making out like teenagers, exploring and touching. It’s perfect.

I drag my nose down his jaw and kiss his Adam’s apple, lick the hollow of his throat, and bite his collarbone.

Being around him is a constant battle to keep my hands to myself, especially since he told me I can touch him whenever I want to.

The more he and Savage touch me, the more starved I feel. There’s never enough.

“I’m going to come if you keep that up,” he groans, and I smile into his skin.

“Isn’t that usually the point of these situations?” I inhale the scent of him at the center of his chest. Warm, earthy scents with a hint of wood and amber. It’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled in my life.

“Nah, this is just for fun.”

I sit up to look at him. “Are orgasms not fun?”

He laughs and brings my lips back to his, then drags them to my ear. “They definitely are, but that’s not what you want right now.”

I shudder and rock my hips against his. “Are you a mind reader now? What do you think I want?”

Ambrose shoves his hand under my shirt and finds my nipple, pulling and pinching until it’s sensitive, and I’m panting for him. “You just want to be touched. Held. Worshipped.”

“Fuuuck,” I whimper.

There’s a loud knock on the door, and we freeze. Goddammit. Who the hell is that?

“Just a second!” I yell and try to stand, but Ambrose has a hold of my hips and doesn’t let me move.

“Who is it?” By the set of his jaw, he already has his suspicions, but I wasn’t supposed to see Savage today, so I really don’t know who it is.

“I’m not sure,” I mumble.

His shoulders tense for another second before he sighs and lets me go.

I scramble off his lap, adjusting myself so I’m not opening the door with a raging hard on, and open the door. Savage is looking sexy as always, in his ripped jeans and leather jacket, leaning a shoulder against the door.

“What are you doing here? I thought we had plans tomorrow.” I can’t keep the grin off my face, despite knowing this is going to upset Ambrose.

“I couldn’t wait to see you, so I decided to stop by.” He smiles that devilish smirk at me and steps inside. Ambrose must have moved behind me since Savage’s attention flicks over my shoulder.

“I should get a restraining order.” Ambrose’s tone isn’t angry exactly, but it’s not sweet like it was a few minutes ago.

“Did I interrupt something, or are you still against pants? I can watch if you want.”

My face burns hot at the idea of Savage watching me and Ambrose this time. I want it so badly I jack off to it. Or to both of them touching me at the same time.

“We had plans, which I know you know.” I hear Ambrose say matter-of-factly and groan to myself.

“Tobi did say something about a movie, but I figured you’d be done by now.” Savage glances at his watch. “Want to go for a walk—”

“We talked about this,” Ambrose cuts him off.

“I don’t recall deciding anything.”

“Why are you here when you knew we had plans?” Ambrose steps up to Savage, hard-on still tenting his shorts.

Is he turned on by this, or is he still hard from me being in his lap?

Savage’s gaze flicks down, then back up slowly. “Are you going to leave when he and I make plans?”

“Is that what this is about?!” Ambrose’s mouth drops open.

Savage lifts his shoulders nonchalantly. “Why should you get alone time when I have to deal with your ass here? Aren’t you the one who said you were all for fairness?”

“I was talking about alternating days, not having you up my fucking ass when I’m trying to spend time with Tobi. You know I can’t take him out like you can.”

“Wait,” I interrupt. “You two were making a schedule?”

“I tried. He wouldn’t agree to anything,” Ambrose says, like he’s vindicated.

“Don’t lie. You wanted more time with him this week since we’re both out of town this weekend.” Savage gives Ambrose one last lingering look before turning towards me. “He lives with you and can’t take you out. I don’t see why you should spend all your time indoors.”

Ambrose curses under his breath. “We’re all busy. A schedule is the best way to make sure no one is hogging all your time.”

Savage reaches for me, but since I’m closer to Ambrose, he gets there first and spins me around, crashing his lips to mine.

It’s a hungry, heated claim that has me lost in him in a matter of seconds.

Lifting onto my toes, I press my lips more solidly to his, clinging to him as I submit to the fire licking through my veins.

Ambrose grabs my ass, pulling my hips to his to grind against me with a moan. When he finally releases me, Savage is watching intensely. Fucking hell. How do these two make me forget that anyone else is around?

I swallow hard, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Sorry.”

“Ready for our walk?” Savage asks.

“Yes,” I say, feeling a little bad for leaving Ambrose, but I do spend most nights with him.

“Thanks for getting him warmed up for me.” Savage winks at Ambrose and reaches for my hand, pulling me out the door behind him.