Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(71)
JACE
Fuck me dead. Saying no to Billie, then shutting the door in her face was officially the hardest thing I’d done in my entire life. No wait, scratch that. My dick was harder, which was why I’d kept the guitar carefully between us so she wouldn’t call me on my bluff. Because I’d been one hundred percent bluffing. If she’d pushed just a little harder, I’d have dragged her into my room and fucked her senseless against the damn door.
I wished she’d pushed.
After closing the door on her shocked face, I stood there way too long waiting for her to try again. Then I replayed the entire conversation in my head like a girl with a crush, obsessing over what I could have said differently and questioning whether she’d missed my point.
Eventually though, I tossed my guitar back on the bed and groaned. My point—whether she’d understood it or not—was still valid. We couldn’t keep hate-fucking in secret, then ignoring each other in public. I needed more from her… and surely, she felt the same?
Fucking hell. We had a long road ahead if we were going to ever move forward, and I couldn’t help feeling like my constant need to touch her was only pushing us further apart. Her showing up like that only proved my point, didn’t it? She hadn’t looked at me like the boy who’d once held her heart in my hands. She saw me as a booty call. A quick fuck to burn off excess energy. Nothing more.
That hurt way more than I had been prepared for. Even if it was entirely my own fault. After all, in our last few months together, when had she ever initiated the sex between us? It was always me blowing off steam and walking away the minute we were done.
“Goddamn it, Jace,” I groaned, rubbing my hands over my face and flopping down on my bed. “You’re an idiot.”
An idiot with a dick so hard it could cut glass. Billie had been so worked up I could practically smell her arousal. My imagination liked to think I still could. What would she do now? Rhett must not be here, or there was no way she’d have knocked on my door.
Damn Angelo to hell, what had he been thinking leaving her like that? It was fucking rude. More to the point, how did he manage to hold back when she was more than willing and eager? Billie was a siren who’d only grown more potent with age.
Getting comfy, I tugged my shorts down to grip my cock. Would she hold onto the need to fuck until Rhett got back? Or take care of things herself?
Stroking my fist up and down my shaft, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. Knowing my Rose, I’d bet she’d take matters into her own hands. Maybe she was splayed out on the bed, legs spread wide as her fingers disappeared between those sweet thighs… Or was she in the shower, all slick and wet as she pretended her hand was someone else’s? Angelo’s probably. But what if it was mine that she imagined while pumping two of those delicate fingers into her sweet pussy?
“Rose...” I moaned as my hand worked my dick faster. In my head, she was moaning my name in the shower, her fingers working her clit with desperation and her nipples hard with need. “Fuck.”
My balls tightened up, my release coming hard and fast as I pictured Billie’s shudders and moans as she came. I’d felt her climax on my dick often enough lately that it took almost no creativity to conjure up the exact sensations and sounds of her pleasure while my hot load splattered over my abs and hand. What a mess.
“Shit,” I breathed, panting hard as I lay there for several moments. Eventually I got up to shower, then afterward picked up my guitar to let some post-climax creativity flow. And holy hell, did it flow.
“You stand before me, shattered flower, but life blooms below. I see your heart, I feel your heat, I crave your scent. It calls me from the dark and tattered life I’ve built. ”
The music poured out of me, my pen making a mess of my notebook as ideas tripped over each other. Then I needed to drop it all and frantically jerk my dick again because I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about Billie. I needed to fix things with her because I wanted so badly to go crashing into her room and sink my dick into her perfect pussy… whether she was busy with Rhett or not. He could share just fucking fine.
A quick, heavy knock on my bedroom door jolted me out of my head right as I was coming again, and I gave a frustrated growl when I saw cum splattered across my lyric book. Fucking hell.
“What?” I barked, more than a little annoyed. It wasn’t Billie again; she didn’t knock that hard.
“Let me in,” Gray snapped back, his volume quieter than the words would suggest. To not wake the rest of the suite? “Quickly, Jace. We need to talk.”
My first instinct was to tell him to fuck off—dangerous as that may be with someone like Grayson. But there was a tone in that command that had me hesitating. I’d only heard it from him a few times, and each had been when real shit was going down.
“Hang on,” I yelled, snatching up a towel and quickly removing the evidence of my Billie obsession. The shirt I’d ditched earlier was still on the floor, so I yanked it up on my way to the door, pulling it over my head as I opened the door to find Grayson, pale as fuck, leaned against the wall.
“Gray, fuck!”
I pulled the door wider and hurried to help him inside. He started to shake me off, but then stumbled and accepted my help as I got him in the room. The door slammed behind us.
“What the fuck happened?” I snapped as we reached the couch, and he let out a groan and sprawled back.