Disorder by J.L. Weil

Chapter Seven

“What the fuck was that?” I asked as Brock steered the Range Rover out of the school parking lot.

Brock shrugged. His damp hair smelled like shampoo from a quick shower in the locker room. “Just some friendly competition.”

I made a disbelieving sound. “Uh-huh. I call bullshit.”

“He needed to be reminded who owns this school. If he steps out of line, there are consequences,” he said, his voice rough.

Shifting slightly in the seat, I angled toward him. “Don’t you ever get tired of keeping everyone in line? Being the guy who calls the shots?”

His gaze flicked off the road for a second to glance at me. “Honestly, this is my life. Has been for a long time. I wouldn’t know how to be any different.”

I could understand that to a degree. When you don’t know anything else, it doesn’t seem unusual. “These last few months have just been so surreal to me. Some days I wake up and can’t believe this is my life.”

“It won’t always be like this,” he assured.

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

He grinned.

The SUV ran over a bump in the road, jostling me in my seat. “Grayson told me what’s on the thumb drive.”

Brock liked to drive fast. And now was no exception. His foot hit the gas and the engine roared. “I know.”

My fingers tightened on the seat belt strap, yet I wasn’t worried Brock would crash. Despite everything, I trusted him with my life. “You can’t let Carter get his hands on it. God knows what he would do with that magnitude of information. The lives he would destroy.”

His expression went grim. “Carter only cares about saving his own ass.”

“He will use me to get it. I don’t know what he planned, but it’s not good, Brock.” Traces of the nervousness I felt leaked into my voice.

“We’re expecting him to do just that. And we’ll be ready for him.”

I wished I felt a tenth of Brock’s confidence. “It’s because of Grayson that you took an interest in me. All this time, I thought it was because of that night at the wedding.” It was completely out of character for the Elite to take notice of a new girl, yet from day one, I’d been on their radar.

Holding the steering wheel with one hand, he turned down the radio with the other. “I already told you I didn’t go to the wedding to sleep with you. It’s the truth. That was not my intention. You took me by surprise.”

“And you just couldn’t say no.”

He shot me a sideline glance. “Would you have? Besides, you looked like you needed the distraction. I didn’t know that night that you were his sister. It wasn’t until a few days after we found out.”

Boy, had I ever needed a distraction. “How long after did it take you to tell Grayson about what happened between us?”

Frowning, Brock turned onto Rosewood Lane. “I actually didn’t. Carter saw us that night and couldn’t wait to give me shit at school. Word got around.”

“What a prick,” I hissed, shaking my head as I glared out the front window at the cars in front of us.

The muscle along his jaw clenched. “Grayson was livid with me. You weren’t supposed to be part of this, not until we figured you out. But Carter…”

“He changed everything,” I finished.

“Something like that.” I heard the underlying anger in his voice, regardless that his expression never changed.

Talking about Carter only pissed both of us off. There were so many unknown obstacles in my path. I didn’t want Brock to be one of them. I didn’t know where we stood, and I needed at least one answer I could count on. “So what the fuck is going on between us? Are we friends?” The question felt like sandpaper in my throat. Friends with benefits? Friends who couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other? That wasn’t the kind of friend I was looking for.

But on the flip side, I definitely wasn’t interested in a relationship.

Right?

I tried to envision what a serious romantic relationship with Brock would look like. Holding hands in public. Sharing his fries on dinner dates. But it was what happened behind closed doors that got me hot and bothered.

Then he said, “I have all the friends I need,.”

Talk about a dagger to the heart. “Oh.” I did a shitty job of hiding my disappointment as my expression fell. It wasn’t like I was expecting him to declare his undying love, and I didn’t think I could just be friends with him, despite that I was the one who put it out there. But…

Brock’s lips twitched as he swung his car into his driveway and slipped the car into park. He shifted in his seat, leaning an elbow on the center console. “I’ve said it before. You and I, we can never be just friends, Firefly.” His eyes darted to my lips and stayed there.

My body grew warm despite the heat in the car fading. “And why is that?” I asked, conscious of his eyes devouring my mouth as it moved.

“You know why,” he murmured, moving closer.

Maybe, but I wanted to hear him say it. I lifted a brow.

His thumb grazed over my lower lip, leaving behind a trail of tingles. “We have too much chemistry.”

Like a magnet drawn to metal, I leaned closer to him, aligning our lips. “Is that what this is? Chemistry?” The temperature inside the Land Rover went up a thousand degrees. Molecules. Elements. Atoms. Ions. Whatever it was, I was helpless when it came to Brock. Powerless.

Tiny flecks of annoyance fluttered inside me at the idea of Brock having that kind of influence over me. It was overrun by swift desire.

My brain clicked off the moment Brock’s lips touched mine. Only with him did the world fall away, all my problems with it. He offered me sweet oblivion, a place where only he and I existed. Where no fear, no pain, no hurt lived.

Because I wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as possible, I slid my hand into his damp hair and deepened the kiss. My mouth became more urgent, my fingers greedy, curling. It took some maneuvering as Brock drew me across the seat into his lap, giving his hands access to my body.

God, yes.

His lips almost made up for the incredible shitty Monday, but his hands, they made forget what day of the week it was. He cupped my breast through the borrowed shirt, and I groaned into his mouth. My hips rotated, pressing against the front of his pants. He was hard. So hard.

Brock wanted me. Me. Headiness rushed into my head at the thought.

His lips fell to my throat, and my head dropped back. I gripped his shoulders, relishing each sensation that rocked through my body. How could someone make me feel so free?

I shifted to get closer. I had to feel him. My fingers went to the button on his pants and—

Beeeeep!

The car horn blared, and I jumped, knocking my elbow into the door. Son of a bit—

It continued to blast as Brock and I stared at each other for a disorientated moment and then broke out into laughter. “Your ass is on the horn,” he said, his hands moving to my backside and pulling it away from the steering wheel.

The fact that it was my ass only made me laugh harder. I dropped my head on his shoulder, letting the laughter roll through me. God, when was the last time I laughed? It was amazing how a bit of amusement could lighten the pressure on my chest. I’d lived with it for so long, I’d forgotten it was even there.

Until Brock.

Don’t you dare get dependent on him. You don’t need anyone, Josie James.

Desire still glittered in his aqua eyes as I lifted my head. “I don’t think this is better than the couch,” he said with a lopsided grin.

Humor tugged at my lips. The first two times that I’d had sex with Brock had been on a couch. “Are we sleeping in separate bedrooms tonight?” I asked breathily. That had been the deal, but after this kiss, I kind of hoped we could do more than sleep in his bed. I couldn’t go another night sleeping beside him and not touch. There was no sleep happening. Not when my mind and body couldn’t stop thinking about the guy beside me.

“I don’t see the point in starting tonight, Firefly,” he responded roughly.

All bets were off.

* * *

“So rumor has it you’re living with Brock Taylor,” Ainsley said two seconds after I picked up her video call. We hadn’t had much time to catch up over the weekend, and I had a lot to fill her in on, but it appeared she was well informed.

I picked at a piece of thread on Brock’s bed, staring at her face on the screen. Brock and I never made it to his bed after the hot kiss in the car. His phone had gone off. “It’s my dad. I’ve got to take this.” His whole demeanor changed at the mention of his father. Taking the call, Brock locked himself in his dad’s office and had been there ever since.

“I’m not living with him…exactly,” I corrected.

“Uh-huh.” She grinned, flipping a rainbow curl over her shoulder. She sat on her vanity, doing her makeup.

My sigh was genuine, born from several feelings, including frustration from the sexual tension that always lingered between Brock and me. I didn’t know how much longer I could stay here without losing my heart or getting pregnant. Not that we’d actually had sex, but once we did… game over. “I don’t have much of a choice. Things are so fucked-up.”

“Angie is probably going apeshit,” Ainsley theorized, knowing my mother well.

“That’s an understatement,” I mumbled, not wanting to think about her. I propped my phone on a pillow as I lay flat on the stomach, feet dangling in the air behind me.

“Jesus Christ, Josie. You had me worried sick. What that asshole did…” Ainsley’s nose wrinkled in disgust, rightly so. “He needs to be in jail.”

“If it were only that simple,” I replied with bitterness.

“You know I will always have your back.”

“And I appreciate it.” She was a good friend—the best. It didn’t matter how serious or how illegal, if I asked, Ainsley would show up, no questions asked. I’d do the same for her. She was my best friend.

She brought a mascara wand to her eye, darkening her lashes. “Are you sure nothing else is bothering you? Not that being kidnapped and assaulted isn’t enough, but are you okay, you know, staying with him?”

Ainsley knew me better than anyone, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise that she sensed something else ate away at me. I promised Grayson though not to tell anyone. It was so hard keeping something this fucking huge from her. The words were right there on my lips just waiting to tumble out of me. Instead, I said, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, but that’s okay. Who really is okay? We’re all a little fucked-up inside, some more than others.” She pulled out a tube of lip gloss and unscrewed the top. “So what are you going to do? You can’t go home. Do you want me to try and talk to Angie?”

“No, don’t bother. It will only make things worse if she finds out I’ve been talking to you.” I didn’t want her involved or near the house as long as Carter lived there.

Putting away the tube, she turned and faced the phone. “I know you, Josie, and something else is bothering you, so spill.”

I frowned, seeing no point in denying the truth. “I can’t talk about it. Not yet.”

Her lips were deep berry and shiny now. “Fair enough. How about we talk about you and Brock?” Those bold lips curved wickedly. “Are you two doing more than just banging and living together?”

My eyes glanced to the closed door before turning back to Ainsley. “You mean dating? No. I don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Holy shit, Jos, you want to, though. Date him. You’re totally falling for him.”

“I am not,” I rushed to object, glancing at the closed door. “With everything going on, dating is the last thing I’m thinking about. That much I can tell you.”

She pressed her glossy lips together, suppressing a grin. “Hmm-hmm.” Leaning her chin on her hand, she looked at me through the phone, a concerned expression dropping over her features. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Thanks. I wouldn’t be able to get through any of this without you, Ains.” The bedroom door opened, and Brock leaned against the frame. His eyes found mine, a shadow that hadn’t been there earlier darkened them. It made me wonder what his father had said. “I’ve got to go. Call you later,” I said to Ainsley. We disconnected, and I sat up on the bed, facing Brock.

He remained in the doorway staring at me. Something was wrong. The tension vibrating off him charged the room.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

He took a purposeful step toward me. Then another. “I don’t want to talk at all.”

I understood what he was implying, and I could do that—give him what he needed. He had done the same for me. Was it fucked-up that we used each other in this way, to forget our problems and just feel?

Fuck yes.

Did I care?

Not at the moment.

But down the line, if we kept doing this to each other, someone would catch feelings. That someone would be me. Already I was afraid I felt more for him than I should.

He reached the edge of the bed, and I shifted so I was on my knees in front of him. My hands traced up from the flat of his belly to the hard planes of his upper chest.

His eyes blazed. “You and I…we’ll never work. This is wrong. I shouldn’t want you like this,” he declared in that seductive, dangerous voice.

That was supposed to be my line. I was curious why he thought this was wrong. Was it because of his stupid rules on dating or did have to do with Grayson? Or something else entirely? I looped my fingers around his neck, closing the space between us so our faces were just inches apart. “No talking, remember.”

His hands came around me, grabbing my ass, and he lifted me off the bed. My legs wrapped around him as a muscle ticked along his jaw, underlying anger residing within him. Not at me. But someone had pissed him off. “Are you sure?” he whispered with a darkness that hinted of things to come.

I must have gone temporarily insane, lost all control. Messing around with Brock was bad. He said so himself. “I can handle you, Brock Taylor.” I closed the distance between us, fusing that glorious mouth to mine in a kiss that demanded a response.

He didn’t disappoint.

Our tongues tangled in a frenzy of desire, anger, and desperation. My fingers pressed into the base of his neck, weaving into a mess of wavy hair as I gripped him tightly.

Brock and I had issues. God, did we ever, and drowning those problems with sex only made them magically disappear for a brief moment. But it didn’t matter, because I all wanted was to lose myself in him. This was the only time I felt normal.

With his lips still fastened on mine, he dropped us to the bed, covering my body with his. He trapped my hands behind my head and pressed a collection of hot kisses down the column of my neck. Every inch of him sank into me.

His name fell from my lips.

A smile curved on his lips. “Say it again,” he demanded, his breath sending warm tingles over my skin.

My nose wrinkled. “No, I can’t do it when you ask me.”

Staring down at me, his eyes glinted as if I’d challenged him, and I realized what a mistake that had been. He kissed the spot just behind my ear, and my back arched. “Say it, Firefly,” he murmured.

Powerless to do anything else, I breathed, “Brock.”

He reclaimed my lips with a satisfied purr, in a kiss that set me on fire. My legs wrapped around his, keeping his body pinned to mine. His fingers slipped under my shirt, unhooking my bra, and my nails dug into his back. This was what I craved—his touch.

I pushed at his shoulders, and he pulled back, giving me just enough space to take off my shirt. I tugged at the hem of his and bit my lip at the sight of his bare chest. He was a magnificent specimen of male, hard and firm in all the right places.

Speaking of hard…

He ground that part of him into the V between my legs. There were too many clothes between us. My lips parted as my fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans, and I slipped my hand inside.

“Fuck, Josie.” He groaned at the touch of my fingers gliding over the velvety tip of his hardness.

Not Firefly. Josie.

He wasn’t the only one who loved hearing their name. “Say it again,” I whispered, wrapping my fingers around the length of him.

He glanced down at me from under a fan of black lashes, eyes heavy with need. “What?”

A small smile curved over my lips. The way he looked at me, the confusion in his voice, made me feel like a seductress. I loved every second of it. “Say my name,” I demanded as I moved my hand, stroking over him.

He hissed, threading his fingers into my hair. “You play dirty… Josie,” he breathed, tilting my head back.

And he liked it.

Urgency slammed into us as we rid ourselves of the rest of our clothes. Brock had no sooner tossed my panties to the ground than he sunk a finger inside me. The pad of his thumb rubbed over that spot, and I shivered, fingers digging into the sheets.

“Condom?” I asked. I took the pill, but I knew he liked to be extra cautious.

“Shit,” he swore, withdrawing his finger and nearly making me cry in protest.

He was kidding. Right? No way the Elite god didn’t have a condom. Was it because he had a strict rule of not bringing girls into his room?

“You should see the look on your face.” He reached over into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a purple wrapper. “We’re good.”

I snatched the condom from his hand and unwrapped it. “I should leave you naked in this bed alone for that shit.” We both knew it was nothing but an empty threat. I unrolled the rubber over him with deliberate slowness.

“You wouldn’t dare, Firefly.” His murmur was preceded by a moan as I positioned the tip of his dick just at the opening between my legs. Then with one quick thrust, he was fully inside me. I’d been so ready for him that he went in with ease.

My insides clenched around him, and we both just took a moment to bask in that intense desire. When he started to move, gliding in and out of me, my head spun, my heart thundered, and whispered curses escaped from my lips.

It didn’t long for my orgasm to tear through me, rocking my body from the inside out. Brock kissed me, absorbing those little noises of pleasure as he continued to pump in and out of me, chasing his own climax.

He came seconds later, the pleasure of his release pulsing inside me.

Brock dropped a damp forehead to mine, still buried inside me. We just lay there, wrapped up in each other, still riding the wave of really fucking good sex. I was a sweaty mess, my skin glistening.

Did we just have sex in a bed? In his bed? Brock had broken one of his cardinal rules.