Stepbrother Wow! (Bad Boy Frat #1) (6 page)

“Of course I can,” I said, my body already heating
up once more. Jaxon guided my hand down to his jeans and I somehow managed to
unbutton and unzip his pants, in spite of the way my hands trembled slightly
and the utterly brainless feeling I had after my climax. I reached down and slipped
my hand into his boxers, finding his cock by touch; he was so hard, so thick,
so hot, for a moment I was almost—almost hesitant. But then in the next instant
all I could think of is how good he would feel inside of me. My grip on him
tightened and Jaxon groaned, pulling himself up onto his knees. He pushed his
jeans and boxers down over his hips, getting them down far enough along his
long, strong legs and then falling onto me once more, pinning me to the couch.

“You sure you can take it?” he murmured against my
ear, and I felt his heat and hardness rubbing against me, sliding between my
labia, teasing me. I had caught just the briefest look of him when he pulled
his pants down—he was thick, long, his cock bigger than anyone else I’d ever
been
with
. I nodded, wrapping my arms around his
shoulders and pulling his face around to kiss him hungrily on the lips. He
still tasted like me—his tongue and his lips hot and just a little sticky from
my fluids—but it was incredibly hot, knowing that he’d gotten that turned on
from going down on me, that he was at least a little worried about how I’d be
able to handle him.

Jaxon guided himself up against the well of my pussy
and thrust into me slowly, filling me up inch by inch. He was so thick—I forced
myself to breathe, felt my body yielding to the intrusion of his hard cock, his
heat almost burning me. “Fuck,” I murmured, panting as he pushed deeper and
deeper, not exactly taking his time but working against the flex of my muscles,
plunging into me. I pushed my hips down to meet his, wanting all of him,
wanting him deep inside of me with that delicious hard cock. Jaxon chuckled,
pausing for just a moment when our hips were absolutely flush.

“How does that feel, Mia?” he asked me, nipping at
the spot just below my ear.

“Good, so good.
Shit,
Jax
,” I tried to move but I couldn’t—he had me
pinned at the hips, trapped by the legs of my jeans. He began to pull out
slowly, and I moaned, my whole body tensing, my inner muscles flexing to try
and keep him right where he was. He rocked his hips, pushing into me once more,
deeper somehow—it felt so good, so full and hot, I couldn’t help trying to get
more of it, twisting my hips against his and writhing on the couch for more. We
fell into a rhythm together after a few minutes, and I felt my pleasure
mounting and mounting, my body heating up more and more as I got closer and
closer to orgasm. Jaxon kissed my neck, trailing his lips down to my breasts. I
bit my lip to stifle the loud moans that threatened to rip out of my throat as
he latched onto one nipple and then the other, sucking and licking, even
nibbling with his teeth carefully even as he began to pick up the pace of his
thrusts.

“Fuck, Mia—so tight, so hot,” before I knew it he
was pounding into me, thrusting hard and fast, his hands touching me everywhere
and his lips dragging against my skin anywhere he could reach. I was pushing my
hips down against his, meeting his thrusts, tingling all over as my hands
trailed over his back and shoulders, kneading and caressing. I dragged my
fingernails down his spine, not quite scratching him but making him shudder
against me; I kissed and nipped at the column of his throat, working my way
down to his collarbones and then back up to his lips, as we both got closer and
closer to climax, both of us starting to sweat.

My second climax hit me all at once, almost without
warning; one moment I was tingling with greater and greater pleasure and the
next moment the tension I could feel building up deep down between my hips
broke, all at once, and I was moaning against his skin, burying my face against
his neck as the first spasm of orgasm hit me, making every muscle in my body
tense, making my nerves crackle with electric sensation so intense I wasn’t
entirely sure if it was pleasure or pain I was feeling. A few moments after I
started to come I felt Jaxon’s body tensing against me, heard his long, low
moan, and then his cock was twitching inside of me. I felt the first
sticky-slick slap of his come shooting into me, hot and gushing. We struggled
to maintain it—I rode him through my climax, tightening around him,
like
my body wanted nothing more than to trap him there
forever, and Jaxon held himself up, thrusting into me hard and fast, moaning
again and again. But after a few moments—minutes or hours, it was impossible
for me to say which—Jaxon sagged against me, his weight pressing me against the
couch.

For a while we lay like that, mostly naked,
absolutely satisfied, and I closed my eyes, happy to just drift. I had not
thought in a million years that the night would end up that way, but I would be
an idiot to have any problem with the fact that it had. I drifted in a golden
haze, not really hearing anything around me, zinging pleasure lighting up my
nervous system in aftershocks of pleasure.

I heard cheering on the TV and finally stirred,
coming out of my nearly-catatonic state to look over at the game we had totally
forgotten about. The Ravens had managed to score some points while Jaxon and I
had been busy with each other, and I laughed; the clock was running down. If
they could maintain their lead, it would go to them, and the Patriots were
looking tired, from what I could see on the screen. After a moment I realized
that Jaxon was watching too, though his relaxed body pressed to mine told me
that he wasn’t paying a huge amount of attention to the game.

It occurred to me all at once that I had no idea of
how long we’d been at it and I prodded Jaxon in the shoulder, making him stir.
He picked himself up and looked down at me, his bright eyes clearing. “They’ve
been on that beer run for a while,” I said. I may be one of the guys—but that
would end really fast if they came in to see me mostly naked on the couch,
having clearly just
finished
screwing Jaxon. Jaxon’s
eyes widened and he nodded, lifting
himself
off of me
and looking around for his shirt. I was almost disappointed when he pulled his
pants up and tucked himself back in, zipping his fly and throwing his shirt
over his head. I looked around and found my bra, my tee shirt, scattered a few
inches away from each other on the floor next to the couch. I pulled up my
pants and dressed as quickly as I could, my heart pounding.

In a matter of moments, we were both sitting on the
couch the same way we had been when everyone had left; a few minutes later,
just as I was starting to calm down, I heard the telltale shouts and jeering of
the guys returning from their beer run, coming into the front of the house. I
could still feel the sticky-slick feeling of Jaxon between my legs, the
lingering soreness deep down in my hips, and my cheeks burned for a moment;
would everyone know what we’d been
up to
?

Jaxon didn’t let on at all. He called out for
someone to bring him a beer and to bring one for me too, and when the rest of
the guys came into the room he was cool as a cucumber, commenting about the
game, saying his friend was not about to get out of the bet he’d made. It
was—to anyone looking—just like any other night in the frat house. He didn’t
say anything, and just like always we commented on the cheerleaders, discussed
plays, complained when things didn’t go the way they should. I was relieved;
Jaxon wasn’t going to make it weird by telling everyone he’d nailed me, or by
putting his arm around me in front of
them
. I’d fooled
around with guys in the past who were perfectly willing to treat me like a bud
right up until we had sex—and then suddenly they thought I wanted them to be
all romantic and sweet. Finally, I thought, a guy who wasn’t going to make
things more complicated than they really were by wanting me to be some
girly-girl all of a sudden. I left the frat house late at night, still feeling
the tingling, hot soreness between my legs and satisfied that things were just
as they were supposed to be—I’d gotten laid, Jaxon had made a move, and nothing
was going to get weird with the rest of the guys. I was okay with the fact that
he hadn’t made an obvious move to show we’d done anything because everyone
would look at me differently if
they
knew. Whatever
reason Jaxon had in his own head didn’t matter. It would be fun to have sex
with him and then go back to everything as usual.

CHAPTER
7

The next morning, I set out for my first class of
the day, Biology, feeling tired but pretty thoroughly happy in spite of it. I
thought that maybe if I could get Jaxon alone—maybe when we went to study
together—I could get another good fix. He was big; bigger than any guy I’d been
with
. I wanted to do more than just a quick screw on
the couch. I wanted to take my time, return the favor he’d done me by going
down on me the night before, fool around to my body’s content. I’d gone without
sex for a few weeks straight and I was more than ready to get some more
attention from him—I couldn’t even really consider screwing anyone else, not
after how good it had been with Jaxon.

I was halfway to the building that housed the
science department when I realized that I hadn’t run into Jaxon in the usual
spot where he waited for me. Maybe he was tired, I thought as I made the rest
of the trek into the building and down the hall into the room. I was bone-tired
myself, and if I hadn’t had class—and if I wasn’t scared to get behind at the
risk of my grade falling—I wouldn’t have gotten up either. I’d see him later in
the day and maybe drop a suggestion that I was interested in a repeat performance.

But all through the day there was no sign of him at
all; I waited at one of our normal meeting spots for a couple of minutes,
thinking that maybe he was running late—but when he didn’t show at all, I just
went on to class. That day and the next I didn’t catch sight of him even once,
which seemed odd to me. I told myself that with the semester hitting full
swing, midterms only days away, it shouldn’t be surprising that Jaxon was busy,
but it was a little strange to me nonetheless. I shook it off as best as I
could and went about my life the way I would normally, hanging out with the
guys from the frat and waiting for practice near the end of the week. I’d get a
chance to talk to Jaxon then—he would be going around, helping all of the
people on the team, and I’d take my chance to talk to him then.

When I got to practice, I waited to see where Jaxon
would go first; depending on how many people were working, everyone split into
groups to either do specific skill work, or run over the practice track, or do
other exercises on the balance box or the trampoline. I wanted the best
possible chance to talk to Jaxon, so I watched to make sure I broke off into
the same group as he did. I was feeling worried that I hadn’t seen him since
we’d had sex—but I figured, initially, that it was just one of those things;
that he had been preoccupied. And it was what I wanted—for things to mostly not
change between us, except that we could have sex on a regular basis. He went to
do practice runs and I followed with a couple of other members of the team,
strapping on my gear and my helmet.

Jaxon went through once or twice and then stood
aside, watching the rest of the people who’d opted for that section of the
practice facility. I deliberately tried some of the harder tricks I was still
mastering, thinking that I’d get some feedback from him and at least get a
chance to talk about studying together or hanging out after practice. I flubbed
a landing and barely managed not to injure myself, continuing through the rest
of the track with my confidence a little shaken. When I got to the end I looked
up to where Jaxon was standing, and he was talking to someone, completely
oblivious to me. He hadn’t even seen the flubbed landing—he would have called
something out to me if he had.

I went onto something else, thinking that he might
follow me to another exercise; he’d done it often enough before that I was
pretty confident. But it became clear
that he was completely
and totally ignoring me, not even looking at me, busy talking to anyone else on
the team except for me
. The realization that he wasn’t just treating it
as a casual fling—that he was actually avoiding me—hit me all at once with a
wrenching pain that I didn’t expect. I slipped on the balance box and cussed,
more frustrated with my distraction than with the fall. How was it possible
that only a couple of nights before, Jaxon couldn’t get enough of me—he’d gone
down on me with enough enthusiasm that he couldn’t have possibly faked it, and
the sex had been so good I hadn’t wanted it to end—and now, for whatever
reason, he didn’t want anything to do with me, didn’t even seem to want to look
at me?

I got through practice with my mind in a flurry,
barely avoiding injury again and again until I made myself stop, fifteen
minutes before the team quit for the day. I climbed into my car, grateful that
I had driven myself, and tried to shake off my feelings of anger and
frustration—but I couldn’t do it. What the hell was going on in Jaxon’s head?
Why couldn’t he just tell me whatever it was? I could understand if he wanted
to keep things casual—I wasn’t looking for a serious lovey-dovey relationship.
I could even understand if he wanted more than a
casual
relationship. I wouldn’t be really into it, but I could deal with that. But to
completely ignore me when he’d spent months flirting with me all the time,
hanging out and talking, and then having sex with me—that made no sense at all.