Page 51 of Deafened By Silence
Rising from the tub, every muscle strung tight with purpose, I grab my bag from where it was waiting right where I left it. Droplets cascade down my simplistic black bikini as I roughly dry myself off and push my receivers into place.
“Fine, Klara. You want a fight, you’ve got one.” I let my mouth curve into a smile, though there is no humor in it. Pulling Rhys’ jersey from my bag, I shake out the fabric and slip it on. We’re not going to talk about why I had it on me, or how many times I sneakily inhale the lingering scent every now and then.
Klara’s reaction is brief, quickly smoothed over with practiced poise, but I catch it. She’s stunned that I’ve accepted her challenge, proving that she’s done this before. Intimidated women that Rhys has shown a margin of interest in. Addy is silently cheering in the background, signing to ‘go fuck his brains out’in the air. The last thing I see as I close the door is the fury in Klara’s eyes, the promise to see this war through until only one of us is left standing.
I suppose it’s lucky that I have no self-preservation then.
Chapter Thirty
The basketball leaves my hands and sinks through the net with a clean dunk. I catch it on the rebound, bouncing it lazily as I drift back across the court and repeat the motion again. And again.
Practice ended over an hour ago, but I stayed behind because moving is easier than thinking. Thinking leads me back to the same place, back to her, and I’m starting to admit that no amount of weed, video games, or bad decisions can scrub Harper from my mind. Those green eyes haunt, following me around campus without her even being nearby. She’s been ordered to rest, and I’ve forced myself to stay away. To allow enough time for this fluttery feeling to shrivel up and die. If only I were so lucky.
Every time I picture her, I end up inventing new ways to get under her skin, just to see that fiery glare. Ways to antagonise, to push her to breaking point. And in every fantasy, we end up hate fucking across my mind in every angle imaginable.
Again, that’s the easy option. Destroying my father’s empire was supposed to be my life’s singular obsession, but lately…it’s her. I ache to take a cigarette to my ribs just so I can bleed some of this poison out, but the thought of her cutting me offis enough of a deterrent. That in itself speaks volumes, because damn if I’ve ever allowed anyone to have this much power over me.
I’m so tangled in confusion that I don’t notice I’ve lost the ball until it’s snatched away mid-bounce. My fists twitch on instinct, my gut reaction to lash out. Then, pink-tipped waves of hair and the kind of ass I’d recognize even in a blackout come into focus. Harper looks scandalous in my jersey and a pair of tiny shorts. I blink a few times to make sure this isn’t a mirage I’ve conjured up, some cruel trick of my imagination.
Harper stops on the arc line to do a cute little bop, her hands remaining in a flick as she propels the ball straight into the net. My eyebrow raises.
“I thought you could use a worthy opponent,” she grins and my stomach does some weird swoop I never want to feel again. Cracking my neck, I shake out my shoulders and paint a smirk on my face.
“You sure you want to play this game, Babygirl? You’ve seen how rough I get, on and off the court.” I speak as if I’m giving her an out, as if I haven’t already decided Harper isn’t leaving until I’ve had my fill of whatever it is I need. I’m sure I’ll figure out what that is along the way. Harper walks towards me, forgetting about the ball as it dribbles itself away.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve held my own up to now. And maybe you’ll find you’ve met your match because,” she leans in close to whisper into my ear, “I happen to like it rough.” A laugh is lodged in my throat as her elbow cracks me in the jaw. My teeth bite down on the inside of my cheek, blood exploding into my mouth and a shudder ripples down my spine, feeding both my hunger for lust and pain. Oh, that saucy minx knows exactly what I need.
I catch her wrist before she can escape, whipping her back into me and pinning her there using my hand in her hair. Ourmouths crash, her lips clashing with mine, and the sound that rips out of me isn’t human. Her jacket hits the floor with a shove, my hand sliding under her shirt to the soft curve of her stomach just as her knee slams into my groin, an inch above my dick, packing a harder hit than I thought her possible of.
I stumble back and lose my footing, falling hard on my ass. It wasn’t graceful, yet I can’t stop grinning. I always smirk out of habit, because life’s always one bad joke away from collapse, but this smile is real. The kind that hurts in a good way, like stretching muscles I forgot I had. Even doubled over, I’m more alive at this moment than I’ve been in years.
The whoosh of another basket snaps me back. Harper cheers for herself, prancing in a half-ass moonwalk near enough for me to grab her ankle and yank her down with me. Her squeal turns into laughter as she tumbles, but I’m already gunning for the ball. Winning still matters. Always. There’ll be time for sex, for more of that wild, bruising fire she stirs in me, but right now? I don’t fucking lose.
I tear across the court, ball tucked tight, launching up for another slam dunk. It rattles through the hoop, and I land with my fist in the air, victorious. Only… she’s gone. For a split second, I wonder if I’ve finally lost it, if I summoned her out of loneliness and obsession. Then there’s a shuffle by the bleachers.
“Come out, come out wherever you are, Babygirl,” I call, cupping my hands. Maybe she hears, maybe she doesn’t, but the giggle from my right gives her away. She pops up with that devilish spark in her eyes, throwing the loser sign across her forehead with her tongue sticking out. I bite my lip ring hard, the grin trying to break free. Around her, I don’t have to posture or pretend. Around her, I’m just… me. Or at least a fraction of who I could have been.
Finally, I give chase, eating up the distance in long strides that span multiple steps. Her giggles echo around the arena,bouncing off the walls like a soundtrack to my madness. Harper runs the length of a bench before darting into the stairwell, keeping rows of plastic between us like a barricade. Cracking my neck for effect, I hop onto the nearest row, sprinting across the yellow seats, grateful for the grip of my hightops that prevents any sliding.
She bolts up the stairs, nimble as hell but I’m right on her tail, leaping over benches until I close the gap. Harper squeaks with laughter, attempting to pivot back in the direction she came but I lunge, managing to snag her waist and carry her back to the court again. She makes a show trying to wrangle free without enough effort to do so, my naughty little minx who’s aching to be chased and bound.
I don’t falter, ramming her back against the basketball pole. The clang reverberates through my palms as I cage her in with my arms. My body grinds against hers, cock hard enough to pulse. Harper doesn’t flinch, she pushes right back. The arch of her spine puts her chest firmer against mine, and I can’t resist tracing her collar bone with a tattooed finger.
“I forgot to say that I don’t play fair,” I lick my lips, appreciating the sight before me. She’s flushed, breathing heavy, and far too sexy in my jersey. I’d give anything to tie her to my bed and never let her see the light of day again, but I must confess, I’m rather enjoying the chase too.
“I hope you don’t pin your teammates like this.” Harper fires back, her green eyes alight with mischief. I bite down on my tongue, pulling back the smile that tries to break free. I need to get a hold of myself, to stop letting her trample all over the rules I spent years putting in place. Yet, my mouth doesn’t get the memory and I lean over her, forcing her head to tilt back.
“Are you jealous, Babygirl?” I lick my lips and she tracks the movement. “I don’t do this, but I’d be willing to make you a deal.I won’t press up against any of the Waversea Warriors if you vow the same.”
“Mmmm, nice try,” she grins, leaning up for a kiss. I lean away, revealing in the sweet satisfaction of her mouth pursuing mine before I relent. I knew she wouldn’t agree, but it was worth a shot. For reasons beyond my comprehension, Clayton has a hold on Harper. A situation I intend on rectifying, but not today. Right now, my focus is on dragging my teeth along Harper’s jaw, a growl more beast than man vibrating from me. It’s possessive and animalistic, and it’s exactly what she does to me.
My lips return to hers, kissing her until we’re both consumed by it. She shudders as if I’ve short-circuited her whole system, something I understand all too well. Harper isn’t like anyone else. Her stubbornness, her grit, her refusal to bend, they have me hooked. Addicted. I can’t stop thinking about ways to have her at my mercy, ways to push her to the edge of her limits. It’s no longer enough just to ruin her, I want the right to piece her back together and lick her wounds better. I want it all. The depravity, the discomfort and the—Holy fuck, she’s grabbing my dick.
Harper’s hand has dipped into my waistband, the smooth surface of her palm reacquainting with my piercings. That simple touch alone sends me into a frenzy, like a virgin getting his first handjob. She moves with slow, deliberate strokes, dragging up every ounce of frustration I’ve been choking on all weekend. I crush her against me, my hands growing white against the metal pole at her back. Resting my head on hers, I drown in her vanilla-scented shampoo, my eyes screwed shut.
The urge to explode rises too soon, but I hold it back. I’d rather let my balls rupture than give Harper the victory of making me fall apart this fast. My head is reeling, every nerve ending firing as she toys with me, teasing the piercing at the tip until my pants become lost in her hair. She’s winning. Sheknows it, and I hate how quickly I change my mind. Give her the satisfaction. Give her whatever she damn wants whilst stroking me like this.
“Well,” a voice cuts through the haze, freezing me where I stand. Not just any voice, but the one I’d rather never hear again. “When you said you never missed basketball practice, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind. Good to see all the money I’m spending on your education is being put to good use.”
