“He'll be back before you know it. And just think of the reunion sex.” I shoot a smirk at Jackson. “Maybe you can go lay on his roommate’s bed and pretend you’re sleeping.”
“Oh, fuck you.” Jackson points at Eli. “Why don’t you just tell your boyfriend you like a level of exhibitionism instead of having him threatening to kick my ass all the time.”
Killian growls, looking between the three of us before settling on his boyfriend. “Fuckface, don’t even think about sleeping at Eli’s. If you do, it’ll be your ass getting the belt.”
We all laugh, even Connor who breaks away from sucking face. And I’m glad Eli is even laughing.
“What’s he doing here?” Zach juts his chin toward the far end of the bar across the room.
I turn and look over my shoulder, swallowing the whimper that nearly escapes. Beckett. He's sitting at the bar, a glass of amber liquid in front of him. And he's staring right at me, his eyes dark and intense.
Eli looks at me with that worried mama bird expression. “Isn’t that your assistant coach?”
“Yup.”
“Are you still harassing the poor guy? You know there are rules against faculty getting involved with students?”
I can't help but flash a wicked grin. “Too late for that. Already had his dick in my mouth.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Zach takes a swig of his drink, clearly annoyed.
After the night in the alley, I approached Beckett when practice was through, asking why I couldn’t get off. Mostly hoping he’d do it for me. The bastard said one word.
Punishment.
So, when the game against the Serpents ended, I purposely dropped where I was going, wanting my grumpy coach to hear.
I just didn’t expect him to show up. But this might work out even better because I’m frustrated as fuck. And I also have no idea why I’m even following his stupid rule.
I get up from the table and go to the bar, my gaze locked on a target. He’s a big guy, all muscle and bulk.
“Hey there, handsome,” I purr, sliding up next to him. “Wanna dance?”
The guy turns, looking me up and down, then grins, his hand sliding over my hip to the small of my back. “Lead the way.”
I peek over his shoulder toward Becks, who’s watching, jaw clenched tight. There's a storm brewing in those dark eyes, a barely contained fury that sends a shiver down my spine.
Out on the dance floor, we move to the music, our bodies grinding together. This guy’s solid as a brick wall, his muscles hard, his thighs like tree trunks.
But he's not the one I truly want.
Someone bumps into me, pushing me farther into the beefcake. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around my waist, but his dumb hands continue sliding lower until he’s palming my ass.
Oh, fuck no.
This dance is to make Beckett jealous, not have some low class ox grope me.
I grab his forearms and lift them. “Don’t take what’s not offered.”
My body tenses, eyes blinking. Fuck me. Did I just recite the dumb shit Beckett told me?
Ugh.
“Come on, baby. Why else did you ask me to dance?” He follows up by palming my ass again and squeezing hard enough to make me grimace.
“Wrong move asshole.” I slam my head forward, my forehead connecting with his nose, a sickening crunch following. He reels back, blood pouring down his face, his eyes wide with shock and pain. “Told you not to touch without permission.” I laugh, the sound sharp and manic in my own ears.
But before I can savor the moment, he lunges at me. “Fucking slut.”
