Page 39 of Blaze & Ajax

“See ya. I’ll text you to see if you want to… hook up again.”

Fuck, what we did was no hookup.

“Sure.”

I turned the knob to his door and pulled it open. Before I walked out, I craned my head to look back at him. “Thanks for this,” I whispered as the last shreds of my dignity disintegrated into dust.

“Anytime.”

We all met upat Old Town Mall to skate, because even though it was warming up outside, it was pouring. No way we would skip skating on Sunday with all our friends, drinking and sharing a blunt.

The air was thick with the pungent, skunky smell of weed, and because of the weather, it was humid inside.

Stix sat on Stone’s crossed legs, taking a long pull from the blunt, then passing it on to Stone, while Nacho and Pippin snuggled, giving each other lovey eyes. It almost made me want that with Blaze, but only for a second. There was nothing sweet about Blaze. He’d never look at me like that. Why did I even think that? Why did I even care? I didn’t. He had a need. I had a need. No more. No less.

But a tiny part of my brain told me I wasa liar.

I kept staring at him, the only one of us who never skated, but he hung out with us, anyway. I tried not to make my staring look obvious, not wanting anyone to know about us. Hell, he didn’t, either. We’d agreed to keep our arrangement to ourselves. But I couldn’t help but constantly glance over at him.

After hooking up with Blaze again the other night, he looked… lighter than he had. He was still a pissy little shit, but he smiled a bit more and even laughed a couple of times at Stix teasing him about something. I wasn’t paying attention to words because I was solely focused on him.

His straight black hair had been growing out and fell into his face. Today, he wore a fitted, short-sleeved, blue plaid button-up shirt. He paired it with baggy black jeans with holes andDoc Martenknock-off boots. He had some fresh ink on his arm, continuing with his floral pattern, which looked good on him.

Whenever I glanced at him, I was no longer filled with this rage. Instead, I thought about the next time we planned to hook up. We weren’t exactly friends, but I didn’t want to dump him into the harbor anymore, either.

When it was his turn to smoke the blunt, his dark eyes pinged to me, but I didn’t glance away, holding onto his stare.

I didn’t know when it happened, but each time I saw him now, he looked more attractive to me. I liked his clean-shaven face and his thick black brows and lashes. His eyes were so dark that when light reflected from them, they looked like tiny galaxies. Blaze also wore a shit ton of jewelry, from rings on his fingers, his gauges, septum piercing, chains around his neck, and leather bands around his wrists.

The more I looked at him, the more I itched to have him, like right now. All I’ve been able to think about was fucking him again. My libido had been off the charts, and I couldn’t get enough. In fact, he made my libido even worse than it’d been, making me want sex all the fucking time. Hell, I would fuck him right here in front of everyone if he’d let me.

No, I didn’t want to wait until he texted me to meet up again. What I wanted was to toss him over my shoulder, take him to the next building over and fuck the hell out of him, and we could do it without condoms since our test results came back clear the other day.

Blaze passed on the blunt to Cueball, who didn’t even look at it before passing it on to Nacho.

Blaze looked over at me again, and without thinking, I nodded my head slightly toward outside for him to follow. I wasn’t waiting a second longer.

I stood, shoved my hands into my jeans pockets, and rushed outside as I got dumped on by the rain until I reached the overhang of the other store.

After a cursory glance around to make sure no one was around, I stepped inside the boarded-up place. Sometimes, we used it as extra space to skate if too many people were around. Other times, we used it to fuck. Usually, it was to fuck.

I leaned against the brick wall, lit a smoke, and waited. It was dim, with only the cloudy day filtering through the dirty and cracked window, which was the only one not boarded up.

Around ten minutes later, Blaze walked in.

“What?” he asked.

“You know what.”

He folded his arms. “Hmm, I think you have to spell it out for me.”

I dropped my cigarette, ground it out with my shoe, and slowly walked over to him. He tried to stand tall with his chin raised, but he shifted on his feet nervously.

“Are we being a brat, Kitten?”

Blaze looked up at me defiantly, tilting his head, rain dripping down his face. “Maybe.”

The corner of my mouth curled up, and I grabbed his chin. “Does someone need to get punished?”

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