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Chapter 9
Saxton~
The problem with Hastings Martin was that I couldn’t tell if she liked me or not. Sure, she tolerated me because of Kincaid, but she’s never made the effort to engage in real conversation with me or anything of that nature. It was always quick hellos or goodbyes, and she wasn’t exactly dismissive, but she barely spared me a second glance.
The only issue with thinking that she might not like me was that I’ve never done anything to the girl to make her dislike me. Ever since Kincaid had introduced us, I’ve been polite, kind, and pleasant enough.
So, why did she avoid me?
It wasn’t my ego that was taking a hit, either. This wasn’t a case of being used to girls fighting for my attention, or people always buttering up to me. I stopped letting that shit faze me years ago. I was very aware that my last name brought a lot of false attention, and I knew better than to get swept up in what my name brought to the table.
No.
This was about the fact that Hastings Martin acted as if she could barely stand to be in the same room as me, and all the while, I wanted the girl in my bed more than I’ve wanted something else in a long time. The last time that I could remember being this desperate for a girl, I had just discovered pussy, and my dick had been eager every waking moment of the damn day.
While I had a general appreciation for women, and really didn’t have a type, Hastings Martin was perfection in my eyes. The girl was only about five-foot-two, which put her an entire foot shorter than I was. The only reason I knew that she was that short was because I knew Kincaid was five-foot-three, and Hastings was a smidge shorter than Kincaid.
Still, even though the girl was short as fuck, she carried herself with confidence and purpose, and even if her last name hadn’t been Martin and her family hadn’t been a prominent one, Hastings was striking. She had platinum blonde hair that shimmered like icicles in the sun, bright hazel eyes, creamy porcelain skin, and…well, in all honesty, she had the face of a Barbie. It was symmetrical perfection, and it worked with her petite size.
Plus, instead of having a fake, store-bought, social media body, Hastings had authenticity decorating that petite frame of hers. Her tits were small, maybe a B-cup, and she often wore tops braless, making life on a motherfucker excruciating. She had a nice, tight, little waist that flare into a feminine set of hips, and her legs were velvety perfection. They were a little thick, and I liked that because they paired magnificently with that hot ass that she had. Where Hastings was small up top, her ass was a work of sexual perfection. It was toned, plump, round, and a man needed both hands to work that luscious ass. I’ve jacked off plenty of times to imagined visions of Hastings bent over in front of me, my eight-inch dick stretching her wide open as her ass cheeks rippled with the slaps of my hand.
The first time that I’d ever seen her in a swimsuit, it had been a testament to my self-control that I hadn’t conked her on the head, declared her mine, then hauled her off to my cave. She’d had on a mismatched bikini, and I could remember Kincaid telling me that she had to buy two suits to create one because she was petite in the chest area but so amble below. However, her tits were still a handful, and even if they hadn’t been, they were still tits, and the last time that I checked, I was still a guy with a functioning dick.
Her tits aside, even the larger size bottom portion of her bikini hadn’t been enough to hide all that ass, and I had spent the entire day hiding my hard dick. We’d all gone to the beach in a big group, and it had been a bitch to hide it constantly from everyone who had wanted to shoot the shit with me. Luckily, Kincaid had stayed with me most of the time, and her presence always had a way of keeping people at bay. Kincaid was very intimidating. However, during the times that she’d gone about her business, girls had used those opportunities to make themselves known, and I hadn’t minded much. I’d needed the distraction to keep me from making a fool of myself with Hastings. Again, the girl acted like she could barely stand my company.
There was also all the stuff that I knew about her, thanks to Kincaid. I knew that she liked to party and be social, but that she didn’t have a boyfriend. However, I also knew all about Scott North and how he was her friends-with-benefits go to. While I didn’t know Scott personally, I knew who he was, and even I could admit that he wasn’t a bad-looking guy. He seemed decent enough from what I could tell, but his relationship with Hastings had me not liking the guy on principle alone.
Hearing the quiet hum of the water pipes coming to life, I grabbed Kincaid’s legs again and tossed them over my lap. “While I’m not against you attending a party to help get your mind off things, I think you should rethink your personal plans for the night, babe,” I told her. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Well, I don’t smoke weed or snort cocaine, Saxton,” she harrumphed. “So, what else do you expect me to do?”
“How about we stay in and do a Halloween movie marathon,” I suggested. “You like scary movies. We can scare all our problems away for one night.”
Kincaid narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over my chest. “You’re supposed to always be on my side, Saxton.”
I was throwing her legs off my lap, and I was in her face before she knew what hit her. Grabbing her chin with my fingers, I shook her a little. My grey eyes boring into her black ones, I said, “I am on your side. I have always been on your side. I agreed to ride into battle with you years ago, no questions asked.” Her eyes started to shine. “I love you, Kincaid. You are the most important person in my life, even above my parents and sisters.”
“Sax-”
I shook her again. “You are my best friend, and I will kill and die for you,” I told her. “I am always on your side. I will always choose you. Do not ever question my loyalty again, do you understand me?” She nodded. “I mean it, Kincaid. We have saved each other a million times over the years, and that should mean something to you.”
“I’m sorry,” she cried out softy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
I let go of her chin, but still stayed in her personal space. “Yes, you did,” I corrected. “You’re trying to sabotage the truth because you know I’m right. Every time I bring Fox up, I am choosing your side, and you know it. That’s why you get so pissed.”
“I don’t want to talk about Fox,” she stubbornly replied.
I dropped my head and let out a deep breath. Leaning back a bit, giving her some space, I counted to ten. When I looked back up at her, that stubborn glint was still there in her black gaze. “You’re going to have to talk about him eventually, babe.”
“What else is there to say, Saxton?” she asked. “It’s not like you don’t already know everything.”
I shook my head at her. “That was before, Kincaid,” I argued. “Things are different now. Things are changing, and you know it. While your plan is still sound, the situation we’re in right now is…shifting things. We have to talk about that.”
Kincaid knew I was right. Best laid plans were always a joke, and anyone with any lick of sense knew that. Plans that weren’t flexible were prone to failure. Unexpected shit happened all the time, and if your plan didn’t make allowances for that, then you were fucked.
She leaned in, whispering, as if Hastings could hear us or something. “Look, I know things are different,” she replied. “I…I’m not stupid, Saxton. However, I still don’t see how Fox is a concern. Yeah, things are going to get a little…sticky, but it’s the marriages that are a concern, not Fox.”
“I think you are underestimating Fox more than is wise, babe.”
