AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 4
Pierce
After classes, I head to the library and skip the dorm. Bryce will be at the dorms, whining on and on about what to do next. He’ll hold court while lying across his bed, looking bored while inside he’s really freaking out because we fucked this up royally. Bryce will be pissed when he finds out what Ted wants to turn the Pit into—an underground sex club for his own personal use. And Bryce will blame me because I used to run with Ted when I was younger and dumber.
Back then, Ted intrigued me as any adult would fascinate a thirteen-year-old kid. I had no world experience, having practically grown up cloistered at Stonehaven. Councilman Ted Leister was an important man in Rockingham and treated me like an adult. I drank my first scotch at his house party. And later that summer, I stared at a naked woman giving head to some fat guy in his swimming pool. I was obsessed with Ted until I figured out he was a good-for-nothing disaster.
Sighing, I pull the library door open distractedly and imagine us all heading off to jail because Ted Leister doesn’t stick to willing women who won’t tell. Fuck him. I’m not his sleazy sidekick.
Fuck, no. I see Bryce sitting at one of the tables in the first-floor study area from the corner of my eye. I don’t even care what he thinks as I walk by and head to the elevators. I can feel his gaze putting holes in the back of my head. Bryce and Justin should be dealing with Ted, not me. The fight club was Bryce’s brilliant idea, not mine. But Ted is leaning on me because I made the mistake of acting like the son he wanted.
“Pierce!” Bryce shouts my name, not giving a shit where we are. And no one says a word.
I slow my pace and stop. If I don’t speak to Bryce, he might follow me upstairs. I turn around and match Bryce’s hard gaze with my own as I walk to his table. I toss my book bag onto the table with a loud thud like a dare, and he responds by shoving a chair out for me to sit down. I choose to stand.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“You really want to discuss it here?” I gesture around us.
“Talk in code,” he replies.
I nod and do as he says. Not because Bryce is in charge, but because I want to watch him squirm in his chair. “He wants it up again but for a different crowd—a crowd that suits him. And he wants the competition wiped out.”
Bryce narrows his eyes. “And you told him what?”
“I appeased him,” I reply, picking up my bag, “Maybe we won’t have to do anything about him. And I’ll slowly crush the competition on my own terms—and not anyone else’s.”
“Shh.” Some girl at another table surrounded by textbooks makes her irritation known. With an ugly-ass scowl, she glares at us and waits for us to shut up. Bryce’s lip twists in disgust as he stares her down, but the girl refuses to look away. I don’t waste any more time with him or her and take off, heading for the elevator.
Fuck Ted. He’s got me thinking about Astrid and totally worked up.
I exit on the fourth floor and pace slowly into the stacks, listening for the familiar sounds. Pausing, I wait eagerly for what I want to hear –giggling, begging, and soft moans from some hidden spot within the stacks. I eye the gaps between the shelves as I stroll away from the bright overhead light. No one’s in view as I peek around the other aisles to see if some guy is making out with a girl. I want to see a hand up a shirt and then a flash of tit as her bra is tugged down. Then he’ll rub up against her as he begs for her to put it in her mouth. Finally, he’ll grab her head in his hands as she tries hard not to gag on his inches and he cums, making her swallow.
Sometimes they can’t handle it and struggle to pull away. The girls always struggle with mine. I stop in my tracks and wait when I think I hear a noise. But I’m alone. I won’t get to watch today. And I’m not the only one who likes to watch.
I head off toward the bathroom in the far left corner that’s always empty. No one comes up to the fourth to study. You grab a book and hurry back downstairs. Unless you’re taking a break for a quick feel and squeeze. I open the bathroom door, and a wave of trapped heat hits me in the face. I crack a window for some fresh air and stick my head next to the windowpane. The cold air feels good on my skin—I crave extremes to make me feel something.
I look around the small bathroom with two of each—two stalls, two urinals, and two sinks. I’m glad I’m alone. I’m not crazy about jerk circles and comparing who can shoot the farthest on the wall. Quickly, I lock myself into the stall by the open window. My cock is stiffening against my navy pants, and there’s no way I can walk out of this building without some release.
I reach into my bag and pull out a folded-up sketch of Astrid that I stole. I unfurl it and smooth it out as my panting breath turns into clouds of steam. Yesterday I went to talk to him about his dad, but he wasn’t in his studio. Justin had sketches pinned to his wall, and I recognized the curve of Astrid’s cheekbone. She looked sexier and sexier in each picture as I traced the charcoal lines with my fingertips. I could tell she was coming when he drew her by the way her chin was tilted, her nipples tight on her breasts, and her hand on her pussy. I look at her image and hear her moan my name in heat.
The sound of my breathing fills the overheated room as I tug open my zipper and let my pants fall. They slide down my legs, and my belt clangs against the tile floor. I grip my hard, aching cock and stare at her image placed on the floor. Her lips are slightly parted as if she could lick my tip. I wanted Astrid that night at the Pit, and in my imagination, it was her giving me head. Thoughts of her on her knees won’t leave my head. I want her.
My cock is coated with slickness as it grows in my hand. The veins are popping as my hand moves slowly back and forth. I hang on the edge, staring at her hand in the picture. Imagining what she must taste like. I close my eyes again and imagine her mouth on me.
I hate Astrid for ruining my hookups. Now, only girls with dark hair make me stiffen, and I make them get on their knees so I don’t see their faces. I don’t want to hear them moan my name. I don’t want them ruining the illusion. I thought Astrid hated me and wanted to send me to hell. But she couldn’t, not when she used her body to shield me at the fight club. The Monarchs would’ve sent me to the hospital after I screwed them out of cash. But something made Astrid stop them from killing me, and I want to know why.
In my firm grip, I tug harder at my cock until my whole body shakes. My eyelids flutter as I gasp for air through my mouth. My knees bend as I brace myself, quickly placing my forehead on the stall door to keep me upright. I stare at the sketch, her head tilted back as she feels herself. So sexy, so hot, so beautiful. I’ll admit it to myself but never to her. Astrid has to come to me. Ego? What does it even mean? Is that what turns her on? I don’t chase her like the rest?
The sensation rushes up my legs as my thighs shake, and I let out a helpless moan. The hot jism flies out of my glowing tip as I grab hard onto the stall with one hand. I jerk again, gritting my teeth, watching my cum land on her picture. The shaking slows as I jerk out the last hot drops like I’m being shaken. I inhale deeply, feeling drained but not satisfied.
They all had a chance with Astrid, and they screwed it up bad.
I clean up, wiping my softening cock with a wad of toilet paper. The picture smears when I try to wipe it clean. I fold it up anyway and keep it with me. I step out of the bathroom, looking around to make sure I’m still alone. None of the guys better talk shit about Astrid. One day soon, I’ll show her what I can do, and she won’t think about any of them again.
