Page 36 of Murder & Mayhem

Jon yanks his head back so the blood runs into his mouth, causing him to choke. I’m shocked at the display of violence. I’ve heard the rumors. Oliver’s told me time and again what the kids are capable of. But seeing it? Holy hell, it’s enthralling. Adrenaline-rushing. Headlock gags and splutters until Jon takes mercy on him and smashes his face into the tiles one final time.

Placing his boot on his back, Jon throws his hands into the air in victory as the crowd screams his name. I'm on my feet, yelling along with them, and I can hear Oliver and Cain beside me. Luc and the other kids jump into the pool and rush toward him, clapping him on the back and lifting him onto their shoulders.

I laugh as I watch them until the announcer ushers them all out of the pool so he can get on with the next fight. The second it’s over, Cain sets his empty glass on the table and gets to his feet.

“Where are you off to?” Oliver questions.

Cain smirks. “I’ve got a hot waitress waiting for me. Catch ya later.” He barely spares me a glance, and his tone is bland, dismissive, when he says, “Stripper,” before walking away. Frozen in shock and jealousy, I watch as he descends the stairs. The little bubble of hope I’d had at Oliver’s earlier words bursts, drenching me in ugly feelings.

It takes Oliver moving to block my line of sight as he slides his hands into my hair and kisses my neck to distract me from Cain’s sudden departure. “Forget about him,” he murmurs against my ear before sucking my earlobe into his mouth and making me moan.

When he pulls back to meet my gaze, I smile at him, pushing all thoughts and feelings regarding Cain into a box and momentarily forgetting about them. Why do I need him when I have Oliver looking at me the way he is right now?

“What now?”

The look he gives me is feral, and he licks his lips before dropping his gaze to my chest. His attention has my nipples hardening and heat coiling in my core. “Now, we celebrate.”

***

Several hours later, and Jon’s celebratory party is in full swing, while I quietly seethe from my position on the sofa, watching Cain let some skank rub her pussy all over him. He knocks back another swig of beer, his eyes never once leaving her. Jealousy has been eating at me all night, even though I know I shouldn’t be letting his antics get to me. If he wants to be a manwhore then what do I care? Although, does he have to do that shit right in front of me?!

“Do you have your blades on you?”

Even at Oliver’s strange question, I don’t once remove my intense stare from Cain. “Of course I do. Why?”

“‘Cause, you look like you’re about to go over there and stab a bitch.”

“Hmm.” I picture doing just that. “Not a bad idea, actually.”

He laughs like I’m joking, but the visual in my head is pretty damn tempting, and I run the pad of my thumb over the hilt of my blade in consideration.

My thigh strap is hidden under the skirt I’m wearing tonight, but Oliver somehow seems to know what I’m thinking, and he reaches out to pull my hand away. Finally pulling my gaze from Cain, I turn my head to glare at Oliver, but he just smirks at me, unafraid of my deadly glower. Still clutching my hand tightly in his, his other hand grabs my face before I can return my attention to Cain. His fingers press into my cheek as he lowers his head and captures my lips. Instantly, I’m drowning in him. It’s the same every time. You’d think by now the effect he has on me would have worn off, but if anything, it only gets stronger, more intense, with every passing moment I spend in his presence.

I’m breathless, my chest heaving by the time he pulls away. Looking into his eyes, his pupils are blown with lust. “I have a better idea.” My brain is flooded with feel-good endorphins, so I end up staring at him in confusion until he elaborates. “For how you can mess with Cain.”Ah, yes. That motherfucker.

He maneuvers me into his lap, my back flush against his chest, and my ass pressed into his crotch, where I can feel the outline of a semi-hard-on. He brushes my hair to one side and lowers the thin strap of my top. The backs of his fingers brush against my skin, making me shiver. With unrestricted access to my neck and shoulder, he begins peppering kisses along my sensitive skin. I melt against him with every press of his lips until my head is resting on his shoulder and my eyelids are at half-mast.

Slowly, he works his way along my shoulder and up the column of my neck. My breath hitches when he begins to run his fingertip lightly along the deep V neckline of my top. His touch is featherlight on my skin. “Trouble,” he purrs when my eyes drift shut. “Keep your eyes on Cain.”

Prying them open, I focus on Cain while Oliver’s touch moves to the strip of skin between my top and skirt. The skank is no longer grinding on Cain’s lap. Instead, she’s on her knees between his spread thighs, with Cain’s hands in her hair. Even in the dim light of the clubhouse, I can see the bobbing action of her head, meaning only one thing. My teeth grind as I watch, wishing his hands were on me. His touch is such a contrast to Oliver’s, and I can only imagine how explosive having the two of them touching me at once would feel.

Anger burns through me, only amplifying my reaction to Oliver’s kisses and soft strokes. Unable to watch her any longer, I lift my gaze to Cain’s face. At the same time, Oliver’s fingers dip beneath the waistband of my skirt, and I gasp. I’m not sure whether it’s from Oliver or the fact Cain isn’t looking at the slut between his knees… but at me. His eyes burn into my skin, leaving deep gouges as he watches what Oliver is doing.

Oliver’s fingers sink lower, and I tense. “Shh,” he soothes. “No one is looking.” I glance around, but he’s right. It’s late, and the other Reject members are wasted or too caught up in whatever girl is cozying up to them tonight. Besides, where we are sitting is shrouded mainly in darkness. It’s probably difficult for Cain to even see us, never mind anyone else. Relaxing, my gaze returns to Cain, finding him still watching me with a blazing intensity as he ignores the skank sucking his cock.

Oliver’s fingers sink inside my already primed pussy, eliciting a soft moan. My eyes drill into Cain as intently as his bore into mine, while Oliver’s fingers ramp up the pleasure until my skin is flushed and my breathing ragged. Heat uncoils in my lower abdomen as my impending orgasm threatens to explode. Sensing how close I am, Oliver’s free hand glides over my chest until he reaches my throat. His hand wraps around the column of my neck, and he gives it a light squeeze. My pussy floods and he does it again, squeezing harder. He doesn’t cut off my breathing, but he definitely restricts it. It’s uncharacteristic for him, but the pure possessive dominance of the move sends me catapulting headfirst into an explosive orgasm. My view of Cain cuts off as my eyes slam shut, and I cry out. Thankfully Oliver’s firm hold on my throat prevents the sound from escaping.

A high-pitched shriek has my eyes snapping open to find Cain’s slut on her backside. Everyone in the room is staring at her, except Cain. He’s already dismissed her as he strides from the room, with a look of thunder on his face.

When he has disappeared, and everyone has gone back to whatever they were doing, I slump against Oliver. He chuckles, the vibration rumbling through his chest. “That undoubtedly pissed him off.”

I give an exhausted, breathless laugh. “You sound way too happy about that.”

“He needs a nudge in the right direction.”

Not wanting to linger on thoughts of Cain any longer, I shift in Oliver’s lap, feeling the press of his hard cock against my ass. He grunts, and his grip on my hips tightens. Lifting my arm, I place my hand on the back of his neck, stroking the fine hairs there as I look up at him. When he glances down at me, I say, “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

“Oh, no? What do you want to talk about then?” There’s a small, cocky smile on his lips.

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