“We do,” he says, leaning in closer, inhaling the air of me. A beta trying to act like some demented form of an alpha. “We do,” he repeats. A threat with just two words. Twice as personal.
My phone buzzes in my hand, just as Christopher turns away, each hand gripping one of the twins’ asses. Pulling out my phone, I instantly regret it. I know Zayden is supposed to be trying to get close to Greyson, but what I didn’t prepare for was how I would react when he did. My fingers curl around my phone as I look at the image on my screen.
A picture of Zayden pinned to a wall with a playful smirk splayed on his bleeding lips.
Anonymous:
Careful, Safra—you let your dog eat from someone else’s hand. He might just prefer it.
Anger coils inside me, slithering its way deep into my core. Jealousy is one hell of an emotion. One moment, I go from beingcool, calm, and collected, and the next moment, I’m on demon time. I didn’t care that Anonymous was around, or at least keeping tabs on us, to know where to find us. Wasting no time, I shove my phone back in my pants and storm off the mat. The adrenaline begins to surge through my brain, moving its way through every cell in my body.
People blur around me, only leaving the sound of blood and Playboi Carti’s verse in “Carnival” blaring through my ears. I shove past a couple making out, in the way of me reaching what’s mine. Fuck what Peter wants. If Zayden is going to get fucked by anyone, it’s gonna be me, willing or not. It’s all semantics when I know he wants me just as bad.
He plays hard to get. And I don’t mind the fight.
My breath comes in short, deep inhales of musty, stale air. My jaw painfully gnashes, muscles locking with rage. The crowd begins to thin out the closer I get to the locker rooms, except for the few stragglers fucking around the backrooms. My heart sinks as I hear skin slapping. I might be patient, but that’s all out the window right now. I lift my foot before smashing it against the door, causing it to slam open with a deafening crack as it bounces off the wall, hanging crooked on its hinges.
“What the fuck, Safra?” Greyson sneers, pushing away from a bloody Zayden, like that could prevent me from the truth. My gaze roams over the length of them, and the erection imprinting on his pants tells me exactly what was happening here.
Zayden’s nostrils flare, every muscle in his body drawn up tight. “What the fuck do you want?”
I should really turn around and just let it be. After all, it’s a job—hisjob.
Zayden is doing exactly what the club wanted him to do. Mine is to make sure it gets done, no matter what. Yet here I am fucking shit up, because I can’t fathom the thought of himbelonging to anyone but me. So fuck that. “Who said you can touch what’s mine, Grey?”
He chuckles at that, casting a glance at Zayden. “So how come I was seconds from fucking his throat?”
His words make Zayden flinch, disgust quickly taking over his features, but it’s quickly replaced with indifference. Without another word, I try to close the door the best I can. One thing is Zayden hating me—he can pretend all he wants to. Another is this asshole thinking Zayden wanted him.
“You think that he’d suck your dick willingly? I gave you more credit than your small brain deserves.” I take a seat in the black single chair and pat my leg. “My pet just wandered off for a bit. But allow me to remind him who owns him. Like this.” I snap my fingers, causing Zayden’s back to straighten. “Come here, pet. Tell Greyson that you’re just upset with me.”
Zayden glares at me, the daggers landing directly where they aim.
I fucked things up. What can I say, jealousy is a disease, and I caught it bad. But I can’t let him see that—not when Greyson’s still watching. I raise a brow, a silent command to Zayden, who chucks the towel on the floor and inches closer.
“Sit.” I pat my thigh again; it wasn’t a question. It’s a demand that I knowmeu leãozinho1will fight me on. And boy, he doesn’t disappoint.
“Fuck you.”
“Want me to?” I arch a brow, “You want him to watch me make a mess out of you?”
He swallows hard, his throat bobbing and brows furrowing, but he sits.
“So what were you doing here with my pet?” The nickname tastes sour as it rolls off my tongue. I hate how I have to downplay what I feel, the rage that burns inside me, all because he got too close to what’s mine. The worst is the humiliationI’m dishing out to Zayden. But I can’t focus on that. Instead, I let my attention shift back to Greyson, who looks more annoyed now than when I first got here. “Cats got your tongue, sweetness, talk?”
“I just wanted to fuck,” Greyson replies, crossing his arms. “But clearly, I’m not, so I’ll just leave you two to it. You should thank me, he’s halfway there.” His condescending tone not only irritates me, but it also makes me furious.
The possessive part of me cups Zayden’s dick, causing him to tense up, and I hate it. In the same coin, I breathe easier when softness is all I find between his legs, making a liar out of Greyson. Satisfaction swells in my chest, my lip turns into a lopsided grin as I move around his flaccid cock within my hand.
“Mmm. You suck on and off the field. Might want to pick a struggle, can’t be in the closet and not even know how to turn on a guy.”
Greyson smirks, pretending not to care; however, the small cracks show, and I love it. For him to think he could touch what’s mine, that Zayden actually wants him is, honestly, insulting.
“Thought I’d finish the job,” he says with a shrug.
“You thought wrong,” I quickly answer. “Next time you touch what’s mine, you’ll leave without a hand to rely on.”
I won’t allow him to humiliate meu leãozinho,2only I can do that. I can feel Zayden’s scowl and his fury radiating off him, and my dick strains against the fabric of my pants. I know he can feel it, with the way he wiggles in my lap. The friction causes blood to rush to the only part of me that he loves. What a tease…. One thing I can always count on is hate sex with Zayden, the only time he allows himself to give in, and right now, I know he’s oh so desperate.