The Next Contestant (37 page)

Each brother is called separately. They’re judging the winners based on the screams. They have one of those meter things to measure the noise. There are plenty of screams for each contestant, but when they call for Kolby to step up, the needle tips past the third quarter mark on the meter, the highest out of the group so far. Thank god because no way in hell can Kimber be assigned to one of the other fraternity brothers.

“And the last in our lineup is—” The screams amplify tenfold before lover boy announces my name. “Dang! I think we clearly have our first place winner,” he says too excitedly as he eyes me head to toe.

“Jax Nash – first place. Kolby Ryan – second place. Scott Dorsey, third place.”

Well, I think some girls felt bad for Scott and he did pretty good under the circumstances. But… Hells yes! I’m totally stoked, not over winning first place, but because I get to take my little strip tease out on a date. I won’t have to beat some asses to steal her either.

As we exit the stage, Kolby pulls me aside, out of earshot of any bystanders. He places his hands on my shoulders and shoves me back against the wall. His face is stern as he stares at me.

Kolby clears his throat and lets out a heavy sigh. “She’s my baby sister and I’m handing her over, trusting you to protect her,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Don’t fucking break her heart or I’ll take your ass down. She’s been through hell with Devin and I don’t want any repeats. You get me?”

Fucking finally! Kolby’s allowing me to date Kimber and not for one date. I know by his words, by him handing me the responsibility of taking care of and protecting his sister, that he’s giving me his approval. I can’t believe it.

I nod my understanding and I realize Kolby truly loves his sister. I guess the age of a person doesn’t matter when it comes to protecting those you love. I’m sure my brother Mason, had he never been plagued with cancer, if he were here today, he’d be looking out for me. Probably would have beat my ass for all the stupid shit I’ve done. I have a newfound respect for Kolby, and of course, I want to protect Kimber. I want that girl so fucking bad. She’s under my skin, in my blood, in my heart. Never thought I’d fall in love again, but damn if it doesn’t hurt, and yet it feels good in some weird fucking way.

I rush toward the back of the stage to collect my girl, but she won’t look at me and storms off, heading out into the crowd. I follow behind her and nearly blow a gasket when the dirty pigs start pawing at her. I can tell by the increase in her pace, the stiff shoulders, that she doesn’t like them touching her. I increase my stride and catch up to her. She startles when I grab her arms from behind and attempts to fight, but I wrap my arms tight around her sides and trap her arms below mine. She gives up whatever fight left in her and lets me anchor her flush against my chest.

God she smells so damn good. I march her toward the darkest, most secluded area I could find and press her chest against the wall. My breathing is deep and heavy and I know she knows I’m turned on when I feel her body shiver. And I know she’s not cold because her skin is warm against mine. Images of her on that stage dancing and doing the things she was doing flit through my brain and my temper flairs knowing she threw herself out there like that for all the sick fucks here to see. Brothers and men will be fisting themselves visualizing her sweet ass, and thank fuck her pussy was covered, though barely.

JAX’S BREATHING IS
deep and I can tell he’s trying to control his temper. Good! That tells me a lot. He’s obviously pissed over my little slutty stage dance and I’m secretly excited because this proves he must feel something for me. Why else would he care? Not like he didn’t show off himself, and I have to admit, he was sexy and well, rather comical on the pole, but jealousy crowded in, piercing my heart knowing he could have any girl he wants.

I wonder if he’s going to speak or just continue to pant in my ear. I should push away from the wall and attempt to escape the trap he has me in.

Funny how my thoughts seem to radiate right through me to him because he suddenly presses into me harder and I wonder where my liquid courage went. I’m slowly evaporating, losing control, and allowing him to contain me.

His hands slide up my arms and he fists my hair, then tilts my head and angles it up and to the side. His eyes are fiery with lust as he slides one hand down, slips it under my skirt. He teases by inching his fingers over the only piece of fabric covering me, then begins to rub my already sensitive nub, and my body turns to putty.

“Jax, what’re—”

His mouth covers mine; his tongue diving deep into my already parted lips. His kiss is so deep, so urgent, and so damn sexy. I can’t stop the moan escaping me, but then his fingers stop and he breaks the kiss.

Jax’s eyes, his face… he’s hot, sexy, and dangerous, like he wants to do very bad—

“That song. That fucking song belongs to you and I. No one else. No one.” His fingers inch underneath the fabric of my panties, and slowly slide between the flesh. He groans and presses his face into my neck, his lips kissing a sensual trail up to my ear.

Jax slips his long middle finger inside me, curls it, and presses firmly against my g-spot. The sensation is so good my knees buckle.

“Jax,” I whisper.

“I want to shove my cock inside you right here, right now.” He’s breathing so hard, so deep. “Fuck you like the slut you were on that stage, to that song,
Closer.
”

The sensation, the heat within me dies instantly at his words and my body stiffens. He pulls his finger out of me, slides it into his mouth then sucks on it. It would’ve been hot if he hadn’t just called me a slut.

I fight to get out of his grip but he refuses to let me go. “Fuck you. Fuck you Magic Mike!”

“Kimber, I didn’t mean it like—”

“Like what? Like the slut you just called me, or the way you just treated me like one?!” I push off the wall, but he still has hold of me.

“I called it like I saw it!” he spits out. “You let some asshole lick your stomach!”

“Yeah? Well I’m not the one who threw down wads of cash and fucked my way to the top, so go to hell, Jax-fucking-Nash!” I can’t help that I spit in his face. It’s gross but it causes him to release me.

The more I think about the disgusting game, and the videos, the more lurid the revolting visuals toy with my mind. I use it to try to dislike him. I do my best to avoid him the rest of the evening, but he eventually corners me outside the women’s bathroom. He’s leaning against the wall, unaware that I’ve stepped out. I consider ducking back into the bathroom, hiding out in there until the party ends, but quickly dismiss the thought. If I don’t come out, he’ll eventually stalk in here and drag me into a stall, and it’s the last place I want to be cornered with Jaxson Nash.

I step out further, attempt to walk past him, but he brusquely grabs my arm and tugs me back.

“Kimber, we need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” I say without looking at him and jerk my arm free.

“Yes. We do,” he says in a clipped tone. I glance over my shoulder at him, at his inanely flawless face, his shocking blue eyes that have dropped lots of panties, including mine.

“What for? You want to belittle me, call me a slut? You know that’s really brilliant coming from Mr. Player himself. At least I didn’t have my mouth or my hands down numerous men’s pants, let alone one.”

His eyes narrow. “That was before you!” he sneers.

“I have no proof of that. Do me a favor, go play with your ex-girlfriend since you couldn’t keep your eyes off her while she was on stage, and leave me alone,” I seethe, and storm off.

In my heated fury and desperation to elude Jax, I hadn’t realized how late it was, until I search for the girls and see that the place is clearing out. Almost everyone is already gone.

“Shit,” I curse when I realize I’ve lost my cell phone and have no way of getting ahold of Tiffany, or Sandy, or Darcy, Diana, Karina, Angela, Trena… not a damn soul in this place that I can hitch a ride from.

Fuck it. I’ll walk the eight or whatever fucking miles home. There’s enough alcohol in my system to keep me warm. I scurry out the front doors and walk past the semi empty parking lot. A few blocks later, I’m trudging along when I hear a faint rumble of a motor. Then comes the whistles and jeers from a car full of guys slowly creeping up on me. I cup my hand over my ear and cheek, and feign talking into a nonexistent cell phone.

“Come on and get in. No need for your sexy ass to walk all alone.”

Okay, now I’m nervous. Without looking at them, I shake my head and begin talking into my palm.

“Yeah… no… I’m a few blocks up the street… yeah, baby, hurry up—”

“Sweetheart, come on now. I can offer you that ride, help you get
Closer to God
’cause he’s right here, in my pants.” There’s laughter, more stroking of male testosterone, and I’m seriously frightened at this point. I scan the area, in search of somewhere to escape when I hear another car coming. I consider turning around to run back toward the hall knowing it’s unlikely I’d escape one car full of drunken college boys, certainly not two.

“Party at Peyton’s house,” a girl shouts and then I hear not one set of tires peeling out, but two. I let out a little sigh of relief but wait until the faint sound of engines die off before I brave a look in the direction they went.

And the night just gets better. It begins to sprinkle and I have nothing to shield me from the rain. Oh well. A little rain never hurt anyone, right? I laugh inwardly but then it starts to pour. About ten minutes later, I hear another car approaching slowly. Now I’m terrified and I swear my heart is going to beat out of my chest and kill me. I do the only sane thing I can do and begin to run, leaving the sidewalk, and dashing into an open field. I think I hear a door slam but the pounding in my ears reaches high octave, muffling any and all sound around me.

The rain is coming down in sheets now, drenching me further, and creating a muddy mess of the field.

I slow down a bit. Then I hear an extra step or two that doesn’t match my own. My legs suddenly feel shaky, unstable and I know it’s the fear coursing through me at the sound of an extra body following not too far behind me.

“Kimber, stop!” And I nearly do at the sound of his voice but then decide I’m not giving into him, to his command. I’ve made it this far and the dorms are only about three more blocks from here.

“Stop, Kimber!” He’s closer now, almost too close so I charge forward and push my already trembling legs to run harder, faster.

“Leave… me… alone, Jax,” I say breathlessly. Running up a hill in hooker boots is extremely difficult. Especially when it’s mostly mud I’m running in.

I’m contemplating whether to ditch the boots, if I even have time to stop and take them off, when I realize I no longer hear him behind me. So he gave up on me. Probably went back to the dry warmth of his car. I pause long enough to slip the boots and stockings off. God, it feels gross, the mud squishing between my toes.

Moving further up the hill, I want to give up and collapse. My legs are killing me and I’m so damn tired.
Almost there
I chant.

And there’s a hiss,
inhale
…
exhale
…
inhale
…

“Did you really think I’d turn away and leave you out here all alone in a wooded area?”

I ignore him and keep moving.

“You’ll never make it home this way. There’s a river on the other side and a barbed wire fence.”

“Go home, Jaxson. I don’t need you or your… whatever it is you’re offering.” I increase my pace. He does too. I can feel him, hear him breathing behind me.

His fingers latch onto my shoulders and I stumble back with his slight tug. I right my footing and pull away from him, but he grabs me again.

“Stop it, Jax! Leave me the fuck alone,” I cry out and begin to run, and stumble, and run, before I fall flat on my face, Jax landing on top of my legs.

I scurry forward but he grabs my calves and pulls me back. “Let. Go. Of. Me!”

“No. Stop fighting me and let me take you home, Kimber.”

I kick at him, which is really hard when you’re lying on your stomach on a grassy, muddy hill. “Get. Off. Of. Me!” I kick again and again until I feel his hands slipping from my rain soaked legs. I manage to work myself partly up and when I finally get my footing right, he grabs my hips throwing me off balance. I fall, again, and so does Jax.

When I try to pull forward, away from his grip on my hip, he clasps his fingers around my belt, the denim of my skirt that is already sitting low on my hips, and yanks hard, hard enough to pull my skirt down past my ass cheek. This causes me to stall and stop fighting. I expect him to pull me down further, but the sudden sensation of teeth biting into my exposed butt causes me to yelp.

“Shit! Why’d you do that?” Instead of answering me, he does it again. “Fuck!” I try to kick him away but every time I do, he bites me. If I wasn’t so angry, so shocked by his teeth indenting my ass, I might actually like it.

“Keep fighting me and I’ll continue to bite your ass. I rather enjoy it,” he says heatedly. I lie still and let him crawl up me. He presses his warm body on top of me and I feel his erection between my crack. He nips my ear then roughly says, “It’s raining.”
Nip.
“It’s cold.”
Nip.
“And we’re all muddy.”
Lick
…
Nip.
“I’ll do this all night…” He drags his tongue down my neck, then back up and nips my ear again. “But I can’t guarantee you that I can stop this.” He arches into me, and thrusts his hips forward, sways them in a circle and then grinds against me.