Page 38 of Striking Range

My chin rests on Ashley’s shoulder as she nibbles my ear.

And as if he can feel me watching, Skylar looks in my direction, his eyes widening as he spots me. As he spots Ashley. He takes in the scene. And as our eyes connect again, a jolt moves through me. I can feel myself hardening.

Ashley laughs, whispering in my ear, “Someone’s getting excited.”

She squeezes me through my jeans.

Skylar’s brow furrows, eyes dropping to where I know he can see her hand and exactly what it’s doing. We’re sitting on the outer side of the round booth, and he’s at a distance to see everything.

His face flushes.

“Yeah.” I swallow thickly, moving just slightly against her hand.

I can’t seem to rip my eyes off of him. Skylar tilts his head, staring me down, curious and alarmed. I can’t tell if he’s intrigued or disgusted, but he does not look away from me, from what she’s doing to me.

Ashley moves her mouth from my ear to my own as she rubs me, and I angle my head to kiss her and still be able to stare into those blue eyes over the side of her face. Her tongue is in my mouth, and his eyes are on me—a combination I didn’t know would get me so fucking hard.

I see the moment that confusion and curiosity turn to rage. Rolling his eyes with a huff, Skylar turns away from me, whispering something to Kelly before heading back toward the bar.

To negate the sting of it, I let my eyes close; I let myself take in the feel of Ashley’s mouth. She’s an excellent kisser, all soft lips and sweet lip gloss. Feminine and soft, the way most college girls are. And I sink into this; I let myself pretend that I want it—that I want it as badly as I want him.

This way I can ignore the nightmare, the never-ending lust. The desire I can’t seem to outrun.

It’s fine. Everything is fine, and this is exactly how things are supposed to be. Me, here with Ashley, and Skylar on the dance floor with Kelly.

Only, as I open my eyes again, Skylar isn’t on the dance floor with Kelly anymore. He’s dancing with Jacob.

The giant is wearing his letterman jacket and a pair of blue jeans, every bit the playboy jock he is. His hand is on the small of Skylar’s back, pushing their hips together as Skylar throws his head back and laughs.

Jacob is grinning down at him, all bright-eyed and excited. He probably plans on taking Skylar home—on taking his virginity. Does Jacob know Skylar is a virgin? Probably not. He’ll love that. Men love a good conquest.

But Skylar isn’t some conquest to be tackled. His first time is meant to be soft and sweet and memorable. Not some drunken affair with a frat guy he barely knows.

And as I’m imagining all of the different ways Jacob could deflower my pure, innocent best friend, that alter ego of mine begins to rear its ugly head.

Jacob cards a hand through Skylar’s curls, whispering something in his ear that makes Skylar shake his head and stare down at where their hips connect. His other hand is traveling lower and lower, creeping its way down to Skylar’s ass.

And then Jacob spins him, grabbing his hips and pulling him back against his chest, rocking their bodies side to side. Skylar rests his hands over Jacob’s—he doesn’t shove them away from his hips, oh, no, he holds them there as he lets his head tip back onto the guy’s shoulder. His big blue eyes close in what seems to be contentment.

“You okay, baby?” Ashley asks, and I realize I’ve gone soft under her palm.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just a lot of noise in here.” I give her a soft smile.

She replies with a grin. “Not an exhibitionist, I see.”

With an answering laugh, a fake one, I focus back on the dance floor. As Jacob runs his hands up Skylar’s stomach, Skylar rolls his head to the side, feeling my eyes again.

The thread between us pulls taut.

Our eyes clash. My rage meets his, an internal war happening between us. Stop touching him, I tell Skylar with my eyes, but he doesn’t hear me. Those full lips tilt downward, his flushed cheeks only making him look that much filthier as he lets that giant touch his chest.

Does he not understand that everyone here could be watching him? That, when he’s acting like this, nobody in his vicinity can be faulted for stopping to look upon him and never turning away. It’s impossible—not when he’s this lovely.

As I watch them dance, my mood keeps declining. Especially as I catch Kelly watching me from her table with this look of pity that implies more than I can handle.

I grab Ashley’s hand from my thigh, tilting her chin to make eye contact. “If I’m honest, I just don’t feel that great. I think I’m going to take off. Can we reschedule? I’d really like to see you again.”

There is a flash of hurt in her eyes before she smiles brightly, nodding a few times. “Of course. I hope you feel better, Everett. Call me, okay?”