Page 23 of Wristlocked
“Fuck you.” Her fury is electric, and she lashes out, quick as lightning. But my reflexes were carved into me in foster homes and street fights, and I snatch her wrist an inch from my jaw and pin it behind her, bringing her hard against my chest before she can try again.
“None of that, princess.” God, she hates that name. “If we’re playing this game, I’ll be the one doing the spanking.” My cock is raging, pressed between us, and I can’t help but grind against her when I say it. For one molten second, she melts into me, captive to all the things she shouldn’t want, and then she shoves away from me.
“In your dreams, asshole,” she hisses, like a curse or a promise. Then she’s turning away, grabbing her gym bag and her water bottle, and slamming the door behind her.
“See you in class,” I holler after her, too late to have the last word.
What a spectacular disaster. I squeeze the base of my rock-hard dick, and my head falls back, knowing I am completely fucked. I have the studio for another twenty minutes, and I should probably use it to train, or I should go take a cold shower, but I’m pretty sure what’s actually going to happen is I’m going back to my room to jerk off to the image of Gia Laurent face down on my bed, with my handprints staining her ass cheeks and my cock buried between them.
14
Gia
“It was a total disaster.”
I’m curled in the big armchair in Jules and Vaya’s room with a cup of coffee that Vaya has laced with whiskey from the bottle she keeps in the closet. “He’s an arrogant, impossible asshole. And apparently, I suck at duo straps.” I bury my face in my hands, cheeks burning with residual anger and humiliation. Jules pats my knee from her perch on the floor at my feet.
“Weren’t you training doubles with Lyot?” she asks. “I know I saw you at least a couple of times.”
I shrug helplessly.
“He was always trying to get me to work on it more, but…” I hesitate, trying to find the right words. “It’s different with you guys. You’re both women. Your duo stuff is strong and, yes, sexy, butbalancedtoo. With straps…it’s like trapeze. The guy gets all the good tricks, and the girl is arm candy in a floaty dress.”
“Gia,” Jules says, her voice gentle. “I’ve seen old videos of your parents’ act. I don’t know what they’re doing now, but back then, your mom was a lot more than arm candy. She was pretty badass.” She gives me an apologetic look.
“I’m also one hundred percent sure Lyot doesnotthink of you as anything less than a total equal,” Vaya adds. “He basically worships you. He’d probably give you all the good tricks and beyourarm candy if you asked. Well, at least before…” She trails off, exchanging a loaded glance with Jules. I shake my head, not wanting to think about Lyot right now.
“Is that part of the problem with Gale?” Jules asks. “He’s looking for arm candy?”
“We didn’t even get that far,” I admit. “I don’t know what he wants.”Lies. I remember his rigid cock pressing between my thighs and the wet heat of his mouth on my thumb. At leastonething he wanted was abundantly clear. “I’m quitting the showcase and begging Lyot for forgiveness. Again. He’s got to stop avoiding me sometime, right?”
“Yes!” Vaya bounces up and down on the bed. “Come back to us lowly freshmen and forget about the stupidly hot, tattooed straps god of an upperclassman.”
“Oh God. I’m not sure that’s actually helping, Vy.” But she’s so adorably ridiculous, I can’t help laughing.
“We all want you and Lyot to make up,” Jules says. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t think about why you wanted to be in Gale’s act to begin with. I mean, before you do anything impulsive like actually quit.”
“She’s right, Gia.” Vaya nods. “There must have been a reason you went for it in the first place.” She and Jules exchange a look.
I’ve only shared the bare bones of the tryout with them, despite their persistent curiosity, and I’m sure Lyot hasn’t been talking. Strangely, it doesn’t seem like Gale has told anyone either, although I can’t figure out for the life of me why he would give a shit about our reputations. When I don’t offer up any new information, Vaya continues.
“Look, we know it can’t have been about being the only freshman in the show. You’re not that big of a diva.”
“Thanks.”
“And why push it with Gale after it was obvious he and Lyot didn’t like each other?” Jules asks.
“Besides the tattoos, obviously.” Vaya grins.
I try not to sigh. It’s been Lyot and me for so long, I’m not sure how to be close to other people. Otherfriends. And while Vaya talks without judgment or thought, Jules is uncomfortably perceptive sometimes.
“I saw him perform two years ago,” I admit. “Before he was even a student, back when Celeste first brought him here from California.” I take a sip of the spiked coffee. It’s no longer hot, but it’s still fortifying.
“And, what? He was that good?” Vaya asks, no longer bouncing. I shake my head.
“He was raw. And—fuck, I don’t know.” I fumble to capture the feeling of him without giving too much of myself away. “Flawed. Brilliant. Inspiring.”
“Okay.” Vaya nods. Jules watches me, her brown eyes serious behind her glasses.
