Page 95 of Stick It
Jax sighs, the sound born from frustration more than anything else. “No. Finn took him out.”
Griffin nods, seeming somewhat satisfied by that at least.
A standoff ensues.
“Well, thanks for stopping by.” Jax attempts to usher Griffin out of the house.
“I’m not leaving.” Folding his arms over his chest, Griffin becomes the immovable man as he glowers at Ethan and Jax, just daring them to try and kick him out.
I sigh, stepping forward. The movement catches Griffin’s attention, his glower softening, even though his lips are still pressed in a flat line. “We were going to watch a movie, if you want to join us?”
It’s not really in my nature to be the peacekeeper, but I’m equally aware that each of these guys is fighting over protecting me. Plus, there’s that strange pull…
Ethan and Jax exchange a look, but they both remain silent, letting me take the lead.
Griffin stares at me a moment longer, the room seeming to hold its collective breath, before he gestures toward the living room. “Lead the way.”
As I walk past, he steps forward so my arm brushes against his chest. Static fills the air. My breath catches, and he notices, if the flash of his eyes is anything to go by. He’s not unaffectedeither, though. His throat moves, and he doesn’t dare blink as I pass. Even as I stride to the living room, I feel his gaze heavy and wanton on my back.
I plop down onto the middle of the sofa. Jax drops onto the empty spot beside me and, oh-so casually, drapes his arm along the back of the sofa behind me. Griffin notices, something dark and possessive flashing in his startlingly blue eyes. Before Ethan can claim the spot on my other side, Griffin is there, shoving him out of the way and taking the seat.
“Seriously?” Ethan drawls, glowering at him before moving to sit elsewhere. “This ismyhouse.”
Griffin simply shrugs. “You snooze, you lose.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring their bickering as Jax flicks through the channels before finding a new sci-fi movie. As the opening credits begin, I’m acutely aware of how boxed in I am. Jax’s thigh brushes against mine while, on my other side, Griffin’s body heat sears into me, even through the leggings and T-shirt I’m wearing.
I’m barely paying attention to the movie as the hero starts off on his wild quest. All I can focus on is howcloseJax and Griffin are. The way Jax’s arm rests along the back of the couch, fingertips ghosting over my shoulder every so often like he just can’t help but touch me in some small way. Or how Griffin’s arm presses solidly against mine—a silent claim. His focus is intent on the screen, but I suspect he’s as attuned to me as I am to both of them.
Heat licks up my spine, my skin hyperaware of every shift of their bodies, every touch. It drives me steadily insane as the movie plays out.
While Griffin plays at watching the movie, Jax is the opposite. With every moment we sit there, he grows bolder. Subtle brushes of his fingers against my shoulder turn into him playing with a strand of my hair. His other hand reaches across his bodyto skim along my arm before coming to rest on my thigh. It’s a blatantly possessive touch. One that makes me squirm. Heat bleeds from where he touches me, creeping up my thigh and settling in my core until it becomes impossible for me to sit still.
Torture. Sweet, agonizing torture.
I stew in it for what feels likehours.Growing restless, and hot, anddesperate.
The second the end credits roll down the screen, I bolt upright so fast that I nearly trip over my own feet. “Well, that was…” Lifting my arms above my head, I fake a loud yawn while I stretch, ignoring the stiffness in my muscles. The ache from sitting still too long. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Good night,” Ethan says, staring at me with an unreadable expression so I can’t tell whether he knew damn well what was going on during the movie or if he was completely clueless.
“Yeah, sweet dreams.” Jax’s smirk is so damn smug, that I can’t help but glower at him. I don’t dare look Griffin’s way at all, for fear that I might self-combust.
Three sets of eyes follow me as I practically flee up the stairs. But even when they are out of sight, I can still feel their heat, their weight, pressing against my skin.
I duck into the bathroom and run the tap, turning the water as cold as it will go before splashing it on my face. When I finally feel more in control of myself, I brush my teeth, then move to my bedroom and exchange my clothes for an oversized Timberwolves T-shirt before slipping into bed.
The sheets are a balm to my still overheated skin, and I sigh as I close my eyes. Still, sleep evades me. I toss and turn, unable to get comfortable. Unable to forget the roughness of Jax’s hands, Griffin’s possessive stare, even Ethan’s furtive glances every time I shifted on that sofa. Heknew. Knew what the others were doing to me. Knew how their close proximity affected me.
Whatwould have happened if I’d leaned into Jax’s touch? If I’d reached out for Griffin? I might not be able to have any of these guys in real life, but what harm is there in indulging in a little fantasy? Especially if it will burn off this need coursing relentlessly through me and enable me to sleep.
Eyes closed, I recreate that moment on the couch as my hand pushes between the lining of my panties. In my head, I respond to Jax’s touch, encouraging him to go further, to be bolder as he trails his hand possessively up my thigh, pulling my legs apart.
Griffin turns in his seat, his lips capturing mine in a passionate kiss. Between his tongue and Jax’s hands, I go up in flames. Every moment trapped between them is kindling that feeds my desire.
Ripping his lips from mine, Griffin bites and licks along my jaw. My head falls back, eyes falling to half-mast. My gaze catches on Ethan. He’s no longer looking at the TV. Instead, he’s turned in his seat so he’s staring directly atme. Need burns hot in his eyes, turning them molten. His entire body is rigid, as though it’s taking all of his self-control to hold himself in place. To not join in.
I rake my gaze over his broad chest, lingering on the corded muscles of his upper arms, before trailing south to his trim waist. My throat goes dry, and I have to swallow as I stare boldly at the long, hard outline pressing against his jean’s zipper. Oh, how I want him to take it out.
