Chapter 11
Igive a little laugh. Damn. Aria’s something else. With a shake of my head, I wander through the crowd, dodging people running around acting like fools. The desire to find Beau and have a civil conversation instead of sniping at him is rather strong.
It’s not that I’m discounting what I’ve seen with my own two eyes, but I’ll admit—to myself, anyway—that I may have made a fairly harsh snap judgment based on some photographs and a handful of girls in a hot tub. And though he enjoys teasing the hell out of me, it’s not like I haven’t deserved at least some of it. He totally caught me poking around in his room. Twice. And as far as I know, he hasn’t told anyone about it.
Fuck. On the one hand, I really, really don’t want to get into a situation where I put my trust in Beau and then get blindsided when he turns out to be a dick. But on the other hand, he’d been right when he said I don’t know him. I’ve been so concerned with protecting myself, I haven’t even bothered to try. And Aria thinks he’s a good guy. In fact, it sounds like she actually trusts him a lot. She considers all of these guys her friends.
After mulling it over in my head, I blow out a hard breath and make my way back into the house. I don’t immediately see anyone I recognize anywhere, so I head toward the kitchen, where I last saw Beau. The more I think about it, the more I want to find him so I can at least call a truce. As soon as I walk into the kitchen, though, I can see he’s not here, apparently done with his bartending duties for the night. I drum my fingers on the countertop, looking around.
“Can I help you? You look a little lost.” A guy sidles up next to me. He’s got super-light blond hair, pale-blue eyes, and a wide smile on the edge of turning into a smirk. He’s about Beau’s height but not as ripped—he’s leaner, more like a swimmer, maybe.
“Um, yeah. I was looking for Beau.” I glance around, wishing like hell I wasn’t the new girl. After talking to Aria, I know there’s definitely a dark underbelly to this school. It makes my stomach queasy. And here I thought I was getting away from that sort of bullshit. Apparently, the nasty just gets all dressed up in fancy clothes, making it harder to suss out those with bad intentions.
He cocks his head to the side, his eyes traveling leisurely down my body and back up. My instincts immediately say ick. “Oh wait, you’re the new gymnast on the school’s team. Lyla, right?”
It’s a little unnerving when people know exactly who I am but I haven’t a clue who they are. “Yeah. That’s me.” I press my lips together waiting for him to introduce himself.
“Here. You look like you could use some liquid courage.” He winks, holding up a cup and a bottle.
I wet my lip. “Maybe.” I’m not stupid. I’m not accepting something unless I see it poured myself, especially after Aria told me about Scarlett being drugged. “Fresh cup, please.” I point to the stack.
He pours at least three fingers of alcohol into the bottom of the cup and hands it to me.
My brows raise. “Do you always pour other people’s booze so freely?”
He laughs. “Yeah. When a Danbrook is buying, I sure do.”
My brows pinch together. What the fuck? “Speaking of names, are you going to tell me yours?”
“Sorry. It’s Marshall.” He downs whatever was in his cup. “I guess you’re getting settled in this weekend?”
I nod, carefully taking a sip. It’s straight alcohol so I expected strong, but damn, it burns all the way down. “Yeah.”
He leans one elbow on the island, slouching a bit, bringing him closer to my height. He runs one hand up my free arm and back down. “How about we find some place quiet to talk? I’d like to get to know you better.”
I look around. “This is quiet enough. Thanks, though.” I shrug his hand off my elbow. “I’m going to go find Beau.”
“Suit yourself. Last I saw, he was down in the theater.” He laughs quietly and walks away, shaking his head.
That dude gives me the creepy-crawlies. I shudder for a second before shoving the gross feeling aside. I hurry out of the kitchen, then dart down the stairs. At the bottom, I take a big swallow from my cup, trying to gather the courage to… apologize to Beau? No. I’m not apologizing. I’m simply going to tell him I’d like to get to know him since I’m staying here.
From behind the closed door, I hear a movie playing. Sounds like an action film with lots of explosions. It’s kinda weird that there are people down here watching a movie in the middle of a party, but whatever. I turn the knob and push the door open, my eyes immediately drawn to the screen. Aliens. That explains all the noise. I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the gigantic glowing screen, which is super bright in contrast to the surrounding darkness where couches form a C-shaped seating area.
Movement from the far left of the room attracts my attention. I have a full view of the couch from my current position… and I stop dead in my tracks, sure I’m seeing things. I blink again. Nope, some guy is enjoying the hell out of a blow job.
Oh. My. God. My heart hammers as I take in more details of the scene before me.
Well, I sure as fuck found Beau. It’s him. He’s reclined on the couch, head tipped back and leaning against the cushion. His expression is one of pure, undisguised lust. His legs are spread wide, his track pants down around his ankles. A dark-haired girl kneels at his feet while her hands grip his thick thighs. He grasps the hair at the back of her head with one hand as she bobs up and down, sucking his dick with absolute abandon.
Sounds from the movie become dull until I no longer notice them. The light flickers over the pair as she moans around his erection. I know I should back away and leave, but I’m in a trance, my eyes glued to him accepting the pleasure she’s giving him. I let out a shuddery breath, and it must be louder than I thought because Beau lifts his head, and his eyes barely drift open to see who’s interrupted his good time.
His heated gaze connects with mine and he watches me as I watch him while she blows him.
My lips part as I stay put, unmoving, unsure what to do. My brain is nonfunctional. I can’t think. I can only stare as he continues to hold her head, making her take his dick agonizingly slowly as he thrusts into her mouth from below. His breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling in jerks, and his jaw is set hard as he stares at me while she sucks him like a motherfucking Hoover.
It is wrong, so fucking wrong, to be turned on by this, but I’m mesmerized. I’ve never watched anyone else in the act before. Hell, I hardly watch movies with sex in them because I thought they’d bore me, but holy shit. This is hot.
He bites his lip, then his teeth rake over it ever so slowly. He glances down at the girl as she pops off him for a second to give the underside of his dick a long lick. When she closes her mouth around him again, he grunts a little, staring straight back at me from under hooded eyes. I can tell from here his legs are trembling, and when she pushes his shirt up, running her fingers over the dips and grooves of his abs, his muscles contract and flex as he approaches orgasm.