I squeeze my cock harder, remembering how good her mouth is. Knowing her, she’d scrape her teeth against the sensitive skin, and she’d laugh if I complained.
I stroke faster.
I imagine Pandora’s looking up at me with her devious smile.
“Can you keep quiet?”she’d say, and then she’d probably get a kick out of ensuring I moaned as loud as possible. Hell, she’d bite on purpose to make me yelp, and that thought is hot too, and?—
“River? I’m done here. I’ll grab us snacks from the vending machine,” Fenrir calls out suddenly.
Fuck.
My hand falls away from my cock, and I groan inwardly. Now I have a raging hard-on on top of being in a shitty mood, and I can’t do anything about either of those things. I pinch my cock a few times to make it soften, rinse off, and step out of the stall, toweling myself dry before throwing my street clothes back on.
Fenrir’s waiting for me right outside the locker room. He’s got all his usual piercings on again. I can’t believe he removes them every time he boxes. I’d never bothered with piercings because of how much of a pain it would be, but apparently it’s worth it for Fenrir.
The shirt he’s wearing is low cut enough that the entirety of the wolf tattoo on his neck is visible, too.
I suddenly want a tattoo too.
“How long did it take to get that done?” I ask, motioning to his neck.
Fenrir reaches up to stroke his neck. “Fucking ages. Lines on one day, filled in on another. Healing was a bitch too. Why?”
“Thinking about getting one,” I tell him. I wonder how hard it would be for a tattoo artist to go over scars.
I have plenty of those I wouldn’t mind covered up.
Fenrir nods. “I can hook you up with my tattoo artist, but I gotta warn you, she’s booked months in advance.”
“Worth it to wait for quality,” I tell him. And the wolfisquality. “You mentioned snacks?”
Fenrir smirks and hands me two protein bars.
I rip one open and bite into it immediately. Delicious, calorie dense nutrient bars. I feel almost instantly better after I’ve finished it. How long had it been since I’d eaten? Maybe that was part of the reason I was so annoyed at everything.
“So, since I fed you… you wanna tell me why the fuck you blew up like that?” Fenrir asks.
“No,” I say bluntly. I like Fenrir, but I’m not close to him, and he could never understand the frenetic whirlwind that is Pandora Pavone.
“Uh huh,” Fenrir says. He takes a few bites of his own protein bar. “Fine, don’t tell me. By the way, now that the Chaos house got burned down, are you ready to ditch them and join Hell instead?”
I can’t deny that I’ve put thought into bailing on Kappa Alpha, especially in the wake of Franklin’s death. But at the same time, they’re right that brotherhood forges bonds — whether you want them to or not — and I can’t exactly walk away from Blaze and Asch before I find out what they know.
“Shouldn’t you call it Eta Epsilon Lambda?" I ask, deflecting the question.
“If I was a stuck up prick, sure. But Hell sounds cooler anyway,” Fenrir says.
Zayden would never agree, but then, Zayden is no longer there to be a condescending prick to tell us never to call it Chaos.
I’m not sure whether the feeling in the pit of my stomach is nausea or twisted amusement. Not that it’s funny, not with the memory of his head forever etched into my mind.
Pandora had done that.
The part that I still can’t figure out is thewhy. He hadn’t even been there that night.
Maybe she didn’t know that.
She’d been blindfolded. Nobody said any names. Voices can meld together when it’s a mob frenzy like that.
