Page 16 of Callous Shot

“Alright? What’s up?”

His brows pulled together. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere in this fucking place for you. It’s a maze.”

“You could’ve texted me.”

“I did. Several times.”

“Huh.” I pulled out my phone and unlocked the screen. “Oh yeah. Sorry. I didn’t see them. I was a bit busy, anyway.”

“I don’t wanna know,” he said in response to my leer. “Jay, Neo, and Toby already left, fuck knows where Volkov is, and me and Enzo had to break up a fucking brawl between six of our players. I could’ve used your help. The rest of the team are, uh, occupied.”

“Oh, mate. You should’ve said you needed some special time with your bestie.” I slung my arm across his shoulders unthinkingly, and he immediately stiffened, shaking me off. “Shit, sorry,” I mumbled.

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. I knew he had a thing about being touched, but as a naturally touchy-feely person, I sometimes got a bit overexcited, and my actions overrode my brain. Taking a deliberate step back, I scanned my best friend’s face. Even in this shit dim lighting, I could see the unhappiness in his grey eyes that he was doing his best to mask, but I was his best friend. I could read him. Sometimes. “King? What’s wrong?” When he remained silent, I prompted, “Ry? I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help break up the fight.”

He sighed. “It’s not that. It’s…it’s nothing. Just syndicate shit.”

Fuck. I jerked my head towards what I hoped was the direction of the kitchen. “Give me a sec. I promised Maisie that I’d get her some water. I’m just gonna do that, and then we can talk, okay?”

“I’m not in the mood to talk, but I’ll take a beer if you’re getting drinks. I’ll wait for you here.”

When I’d delivered the water and I had a four-pack of Peroni cans tucked safely under my arm, I tried to remember how to get back to Ryker. Had I gone left or right? Okay, I knew I’d come up a set of stairs, at least, so I just needed to find them again.

Inevitably, I went in the wrong bloody direction in this maze of a house, and I ended up in some kind of TV room, all hazy with smoke. Through the mass of bodies, a tattooed arm caught my eye, and I swerved, immediately changing directions.

I drew closer to where Lincoln Bellingham was leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed. Then my gaze dropped lower, and I inhaled sharply, my heart stuttering in my chest.

Fuuuck.

Lincoln was having his dick sucked.

I moved closer, peering through the gloom. This was research. I had to know.

When I was near enough to him and the woman to see clearly, I gasped before I could stifle it. Three things registered all at the same time.

One. Lincoln’s dick was so big that the woman was struggling to fit it all into her pretty little mouth.

Two. The woman sucking his dick with her fingers now curling around the base was Kimberly Bridges, who I’d had a brief thing with, pre-uni days.

Three. Lincoln’s eyes had opened.

Wait.

Lincoln Bellingham’s formerly closed eyes were now wide open and boring into me. Fucking hell. I’d never seen his pupils so blown before.

A split second of what might have been shock flashed through his gaze before he smirked at me, lazily thrusting into Kimberly’s mouth like he was completely fine with this situation. Do you know who wasn’t fucking fine with this situation? Me. The whole thing was completely fucked up. The fact that it was him, with her, and I was just standing here like they were my own private porn show…

I had her first, I mouthed, and he groaned. The sound tore through me like an electric shock, and my body actually jolted.

“Fuck,” he gritted out as Kimberly moaned around his thick cock, and my dick jerked, swelling in my jeans. Fucking hell. I bet it felt so good, having her moaning around his dick like that.

I discreetly adjusted myself, and his gaze followed my movement. Were his eyes even darker than they had been a minute ago? Nah, it was probably just a trick of the light. Unless…was he getting off on the fact that he had her, and he thought…I dunno, that I still wanted her or something? Which I didn’t, to be clear. But it was just the kind of thing he’d think.

Kimberly was completely oblivious to my presence as I moved even closer. I mean, we were in a room full of people, so clearly neither of them was bothered by the whole public aspect of it, so it probably didn’t even register. Lincoln, though. He noticed, that familiar, hot burn of his hatred searing me as he tried to obliterate me with his glare.

I was immune to that glare, just like he was unfortunately immune to mine. Coming right up next to him, my shoulder brushing against the wall, I leaned in enough that I could whisper without being overheard. “Bellingham⁠—”