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Gavin was holding that fucker close, his arms looped around his neck, while the Tool’s hands moved down to the top of Gavin’s ass.
My first instinct was to get up, rip Trevor’s arms off, and glue them to his own ass.
But I didn’t have a claim on Gavin, so that would be a little extreme, even for me.
I shifted focus as Gavin closed his eyes, swaying to the music. I liked the way he got lost in it. That he didn’t care who was around while he enjoyed himself and let go.
As his head fell back, exposing all that smooth, creamy skin, I pictured how easy it would be for me to lean in and press my lips along his sharp jaw before moving down to lick and suck alonghis neck. I’d feel his moan against my mouth, quietly begging for more. With every roll of his hips, his erection would graze mine, provoking me in all the right ways. I’d haul him in closer to give him something to grind against, and he’d take it, not giving a damn who was watching as he got himself off on me?—
“I’m all for putting on a show, but that’s not usually your thing,” Travis shouted over the music, and reality snapped back again, Gavin no longer in my arms but in Trevor’s.
I looked up to glare at Travis, who stood beside me with an amused tilt to his lips. When he nodded pointedly at my hips, I glanced down to see I’d been stroking my dick through my pants.
What the hell?
When I jerked my hand away, Travis chuckled. “Please don’t stop on my account. I enjoy watching a good public rubdown.”
“Oh fuck off.” I shifted, trying to adjust myself, but it only strangled my cock to the point I had to stand up to give it some room.
“Something got you riled up?” Travis said, arching a brow. A thin line of glitter lined his eyes, shimmering under the flashing lights.
“Not a thing.” I shook my head, forcing myself to look anywhere but in Gavin’s direction. I’d made things crystal clear with him, so there was no point in caring whom he decided to spend his time with. Or grind himself all up on.
Nope. It didn’t affect me one little bit.
Travis snorted and rolled his eyes. “You’re such an idiot.”
I turned to pin him with a stare. “Excuseme?”
To his credit, he didn’t back down the way most would. Instead, he inclined his head toward where Gavin was dancing and singing along. “What are you doing, just watching?”
I ground my jaw tight. “I don’t dance.”
“I’m not talking about dancing, dumbass.”
My head swiveled in his direction. “You have a death wish?”
“I guess so, ’cause I’m tired of you mooning over the guy and fucking it up.”
What the hell was he talking about? Fucking what up?
“I get you’re trying to maintain your whole loner asshole image,” Travis continued, “but you’re gonna regret watching him move on from you. Trust me.”
I ignored the stab in my chest. “Nobody asked you.”
“Let me guess, you think you’re not good enough. But then, no one ever will be, and by the time you realize that, you’ve lost your chance.”
Jesus, it was like he was inside my head, reading my mind.
“Don’t you have somewhere else you could be?”
“Probably, but you seem to be in need of my extensive knowledge of self-denial.”
Now that was a fucking laugh—Travis was the king of excess, whether it involved drinking, fucking, or just having a good time. “Nice try, but you and self-denial don’t exactly go hand in hand. When was the last time you ever denied yourself anything?”
Travis looked to the back of a tall guy in a pair of ripped jeans, dress shirt, and a slouch beanie sucking face with a blonde in a tight corset showing off her huge rack.
Caleb Reeves. Ofcoursethat’s who Travis was talking about.
