Page 73 of Antidote

“It will still be fun!” Grayson—our goalie—says from behind Connor.

“Whatever.” I smile, closing the visor. “Can we just go inside? I wanna get hammered.”

“That’s the fucking spirit!” Connor yells, then we all get out of the car.

The four of us enter the club, and the music is pounding so loud I can’t even hear the girl talking to me, although she does hand me a wristband to allow me to drink after flashing her my fake ID. She gives me fuck-me-eyes, which I smile about, and keep on going.

As we step deeper into the club, the strobe lights are blue and green. The music is pounding so hard that it feels like I have a second heartbeat. Some old Madonna song is playing through the speakers. It’s nice and clean in here, pretty. The VIP area has leather couches and lounge chairs, coffee tables in front of the couches, and high tables spread strategically throughout.

“Yo, bro.” Connor taps my arm. “Is that you up there?”

I look up to where he’s pointing, and sure enough, that’s the painting of me—fucking naked. Goddamn it, Oliver. He tried to camouflage my face by giving it a glass shards effect, and the face is mostly unrecognizable. However, I guess if someone knew me, they could figure it out, just as Connor did. Still, I can’t deny it’s beautiful. It might be the best thing Ollie has ever created.

“Nope.” I grin. “Definitely not me. Does it look like me?”

As if he’s suddenly doubting himself, he backtracks. “I thought at first, but—never mind.”

Heat simmers my blood, and I can’t wait to find Ollie. I want to tell him how beautiful it is and congratulate him. “I need a drink,” I tell them, and they all nod.

The space is crowded, and there are both men and women wearing skimpy clothing. The way I see men grinding with men feels liberating, even though I’m not even the one doing it. No one is hiding here, and my friends don’t look uncomfortable at all. I smile, feeling at ease for the first time in a very long time.

We go to the dance floor and start dancing with each other. It’s weird that they’d want to dance at a gay club with other dudes, especially since they all claim to be straight. Though I don’t want to read too much into it. Not when my eyes scan the space and find him.

His hands are thrown up in the air as he grinds against Jamie. Letting him roam his hands all over his body like he belongs to him.

Doesn’t he know he’s fucking mine?

My hackles rise, and I feel my fists tighten at my sides until my nails dig into the palms of my hands. Jamie and I make eye contact, and he falters for a second. But then he smirks at me, fucking smirks, and suddenly the urge to pummel his face is too strong. I take a step toward them, and he grinds harder against Ollie’s ass. Except then I see Dylan behind Jamie grinding against him too, and I relax slightly. I guess they’re just having fun and I kinda need to chill the fuck out. But damn it, it’s hard. I want Ollie, and I want him now.

My back begins to sweat as I make my way over to him, and when I’m finally standing in front of him, I haul him to me, grabbing his hips. He immediately gives me his ass, and I grind against him. I plaster my body to his, my front to his back, as I roll my hips to the beat of the music. My hands roam his body, and with the lights down low and no one paying attention, I let my hand drift to the bulge in his jeans. His dick is rock-hard, and I grin.

“Congrats on the painting,” I tell him over the music, and his movements falter. “It’s gorgeous.”

“That’s because you’re gorgeous,” he exclaims, and the grin that takes over my face hurts my cheeks.

We continue to dance for a little while longer. I grind against him, and his ass feels like heaven on my cock. I could come just like this, which would be very inconvenient. But still, I continue, grabbing his hips and grinding harder. His hands reach up and tangle in my hair, and I moan.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby,” I say against the shell of his ear. “Wanna go to the bathroom?”

Please say yes.

Ollie turns around, breaking our embrace, and faces me. One hand wraps around the back of my head, and he kisses me. It’s a hard kiss, bruising. He fights me for dominance, and I grip his hair and yank back to give me better access.

God fucking damn.

He thrusts his tongue into my mouth, and the kiss turns heated as he palms my cock over my own jeans. My blood heats, rising to a boil quickly. I need him. I need him right fucking now.

I pull away and he winks, and I feel it in my balls. Pressing my lips against his earlobe, I bite him—hard. His fingers dig into my arms, his nails making my skin tingle, and I let go of his ear.

“Let’s go,” he says against my ear.

Grabbing his hand, I pull him toward the bathroom. I drag him to the stall at the end, then lock the door behind us.

“What are we doing, Hunt?” Ollie asks in a sultry voice.

“I can’t fucking think straight right now,” I admit. “I need you.”

I gaze into his beautiful blue eyes. They play with me, dilating and constricting over and over as he stares at me. A smirk takes over his lips and I grin. This is happening. We’re doing this in a public place, and I don’t even care.

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