Page 77 of Hell and High Water

Keeping myself from touching her, then myself, then from lunging onto the bed and joining them. And knowing I could, that she’d let me, makes this so much sweeter.

I could be inside her in a heartbeat.

Both of us could.

Except that would break the stalemate, the gridlock between us.

And I will be honest, damn it. I’m thriving off this tension. I always have, that tug of war between Hellena and me.

It’s always teasing the line, bordering on antagonistic, but never toxic.

She pushes me. I push back harder.

She shoves, and I step out of the way, letting her fall.

Until she grabs me and drags me along for the ride.

Her refusal to let me play is my penance this time, hopefully for not checking in, not seeing her sooner. What happened at the Ball is different. The fact that we’re in this room now is enough of a tell to let me know that she’s working through it, letting me back in.

I might be the luckiest man on the planet.

Especially when she yells his name out, on the verge of another orgasm, her thick thighs quivering to the buildup, flat out shaking as she bears down on Gavin’s lips, tossing her head back and crying out.

When she drops her gaze again, each time, it’s straight at me.

Those gray-blue, endless seas of desire pin me to the chair, nearly crack me in two as I stroke up again, wishing to all hell that it was her vise gripping me.

“Gavin… I need you inside me,” she moans, sliding back down his chest, a glistening trail of her pearlescent release and his saliva dripping down his chin.

“You just tell me how, and I’ll give you everything you want.” Gavin is playing into this, too, egging the tension to higher levels, putting on one hell of a show for an audience of one.

I have to admit, they look fucking hot together.

It makes me wonder what it would be like to see her with Tell. I may have to buy a ticket to that show sometime.

For now, she wants Gavin. So she can have Gavin.

An ornery little voice in the back of my head growls that she was mine first, that I claimed her before Gavin, before Tyler. I made her mine in the dance studio.

The simple fact alone makes me grin, wipes away any possessive insecurity.

She was mine. She will be mine again. And she can be theirs too.

Ours.

If she ever decides to let me out of time-out.

Another slow, powerful stroke has me pushing against the floor with my feet, restless energy and sexual frustration seeking any way to exit my body.

Gavin positions her on the bed, running the length of his impressive dick up between the lips of her sex, sliding it back down.

Her head falls to the side as she inhales, looking right at me again. She’s exaggerating her movements, putting on a show for me like she did that night in the studio.

So I go along with it, tilting my head back into the cushions of the chair and bucking my hips, pretending I’m grinding against her, into her.

A little smile curls her full lips, making my skin tighter, electrifying my brain.

She’s so fucking sexy. She’s light and air and water on my blistering skin.

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