Page 8 of Win You Over
Theo grips my arm, and I turn to face him. His eyes are wide and his t-shirt is stretched where Finn pulled on it.
“Let’s go. We can get a takeout or something.” Theo runs a hand down his face with his free hand, blowing out a breath.
“I’m sorry,” I try to say, but the words get stuck like they so often do. So instead, I nod, then slide my hand into his and give it a squeeze. As we move towards the exit, I chance one glance at the big table, catching Remington’s eye. The heat of his gaze burns my back as we leave the restaurant.
Chapter 4
Remington
“Idon’t get why you stood up for them,” Finn complains, his hand stroking up and down my erection. I run a hand through his hair as he rests his head on my thigh, his nose inches away from my cock.
This isn’t an unusual scene – him on his knees, his lips around my shaft – but tonight it doesn’t quite feel the same. I have this sense that I'm doing it because it's what we so often do rather than because I want to. And because I'm not very good at saying no to Finn.
“I wasn’t standing up for anyone. I was trying to stop you from making a scene. I don’t get why you have to antagonise them all the time,” I reply, thinking back to the flurry of rage that flashed across Holden’s handsome face earlier tonight.Fuck,he’s gorgeous.And picturing him with a knife in hand, maybe slicing it across my chest while he rides my dick. Well yeah, now that thought gets me hard.
Finn groans as I thicken in his hand over thoughts of another man.
“I’m not antagonising them, but they don’t belong here, scholarship or not. You have to see that.”
“They’ve earned their places here, Finn. They belong here as much as we do.”
He huffs, his warm breath ghosting my leg.
“Fuck, I know, okay? I get that, but still, I don’t like or trust them. Who knows what kind of shit they’re into or what trouble they’ve left behind wherever it is they come from.” He sits up and waves his free hand dismissively. “And why the fuck doesn’t Booker talk? It’s like he thinks he’s too good for us. Not too good for that little puppy-dog friend of his though.” He mumbles what I’m sure is ‘stupid angel lips’ under his breath before groaning and rolling his head on his shoulders.
I raise a brow but don’t question him about it, nor do I admit that I’ve wondered about Holden’s silence one too many times. Something tells me it’s not for the reasons Finn thinks.
Holden Booker is a mystery to me, and I love mysteries. Just look at the size of my Agatha Christie collection. I wonder if that’s why I’m so drawn to him – because I want to be the one to draw him out of his prickly shell. That and his sexy as fuck body.
My sister, Nadine – who thinks she knowseverything– would no doubt say that I’m obsessing over him because he doesn’t like me. I never have been good with rejection. But, hot damn, he would be so fun to play with.
My mind runs away on thoughts of Holden – a variation of the ones I’ve had about him since I first took notice of him at the start of our sophomore year, when he stepped into the ring with me. Finding out that he’s in my English Literature class waslike a fucking gift. How did I not notice him sooner? How did we go an entire year on the same course and I didn’t clock his presence? That he’s quiet, shy and sits at the back of our class of over a hundred students is probably why. Or maybe because our social circles are so different.
I’m rudely brought back to reality when Finn, his hand still wrapped around my cock, grumbles something more about them not belonging. His annoyance at running into Holden and Theo earlier tonight is clear in the set of his lips and the frown lines evident beneath his messy fringe.
His attitude is a reflection of the life we grew up in. The idea that wealth equals prestige and a higher level in the pecking order. I don’t buy into it. I know I’m lucky to have the life I do, but I also know that’s not how everyone thinks, certainly not around here.
I like to think people would like me without money or the Langford name, because I’m a really great guy. I can’t deny, though, that there’s this niggling in the back of my mind – the one that keeps me and serious relationships at a wide berth – that doesn’t always trust people’s motives.
Unlike Finn though, whose father is one of those who literally sticks his nose up at people he deems “lesser” than him – and would disown him if he knew how much his son loved sucking dick – my family is pretty laid back. My mother, after all, is a small-town girl from South Africa and not the upper class aristocrat my father was meant to marry, much to the disgust of my grandmother.
Mom is the kind of person who gives generously with her time and money. Who goes out of her way to help others, and who never has a bad word to say about anyone.
“Just tread carefully,” I warn. “Holdenwillbeat the shit out of you.”
Finn scoffs, closing his free hand into a fist.“I’d like to see him try.”
I don’t mention that Holden is a better fighter than him. He’s the second best fighter I’ve met – me being the best, obviously. I also don’t add that he was very close to taking a knife to the back earlier. I think Holden likes to keep that little tidbit to himself, but I’m super observant, especially where he's concerned.
Finn moves his hand over my shaft again, but I’m softening and the frustration radiating off of him is palpable. He’s not going to get what he wants tonight, but then that makes two of us. My mind once again stuck on the pretty boy with the pretty eyes and the pretty hair.
“I’m tired, dude. Let’s park this for tonight.”
Finn looks up at me with booze glazed eyes, a deep frown line appearing along his forehead.
“You don’t wanna fuck?” He gets to his feet and straddles my lap, his legs trapping my knees together. He presses his ass down, resting it on top of my half-hard cock.
“Not tonight, no.” I place my hands on his ass, ready to lift him off.
