Hazed: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 6)

by Kandi Steiner

I swallow. “Yes.”

  Kade removes his boxers, lining himself up at my entrance from behind, his hands gripping my hips and pulling me back until I open for him.

  “Well, now that we know the truth, that you want both of us,” he says between licks and sucks of my neck. “The question is can you handle both of us?”

  I gasp, my pussy so wet and swollen I nearly come just from his words in my ear.

  “Only one way to find out,” Jarrett says from where he towers over me.

  And as his brother slides inside me, filling me from behind, I gasp.

  And Jarrett slides his cock inside my wide-open mouth.

  I moan around the fullness, both in my mouth and in my pussy, heart racing so fast I’m sure I’ll pass out or have a heart attack at any moment.

  I can barely breathe, all thought lost as Jarrett groans, his head falling back. “Fuck yes, Jess, suck my cock.”

  I moan again, taking him in deeper, and Kade groans behind me, kissing my shoulders. “She’s so fucking tight, brother.”

  “Yeah?” Jarrett asks. “You should feel her mouth.”

  “Not until I make her come,” Kade says, and as if on a mission, he wraps one hand around me to rub my clit.

  “Oh, God,” I mouth around Jarrett’s cock, still as smooth and big as I remembered.

  “You like that?” Jarrett asks. “You like when my brother rubs your clit?”

  “Yes,” I pant, taking Jarrett’s cock in my hand as I let my head fall back. “I’m going to… Oh fuck… Oh fuck!”

  My orgasm is a volcano, hot and all-consuming, erupting from the very core of me and covering every inch of my body in its wake. I writhe in my sheets with my eyes squeezed shut, heart racing, shallow breaths racking my chest as I fly apart.

  And when I open my eyes, it’s early dawn, the sun barely rising over the city.

  And I’m alone in my bed.

  I let out a long gasp when my orgasm recedes, my body trembling, and I lie there for just a split second before I rip my covers back and scurry up to sit against the headboard.

  I blink, over and over, my chest still heaving as I let myself come down from the wet dream.

  A dream.

  That’s all it was.

  “Fuck me,” I say, letting my head fall back to hit the headboard. It all felt so real…

  And that’s the fucking issue.

  It felt real, and I wanted it. I wanted Kade. I wanted Jarrett.

  I wanted them both at the same time.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Jess, what is wrong with you?!”

  I run my hands back through my hair, still catching my breath. I stay there for a long while, until the sun starts shining directly into my room, and then I peel myself out of my damp sheets and waltz my still-swollen pussy into the shower.

  The water is too hot, but I let it sear my skin as I stand under the showerhead. Then, I turn it all the way cold, sucking in a gasp and fighting the urge to jump out.

  You deserve this, bitch.

  I fall onto the tile floor, leaning my back against the corner and letting the water rain down over me.

  I just told Kade I love him. And I do. I do love him. I love how caring he is, and how fucking goofy he is, and how he captured my heart when I didn’t even think I still had a heart to give.

  And of course, I still have feelings for Jarrett. With how we ended, how could I not?

  But enough is enough.

  I have to let go of this fantasy.

  A threesome dream? Really, Jess?

  I shake my head at myself, but don’t make any moves to get off the shower floor.

  No, I’m going to stay here, for as long as it takes to drop this fantasy of Jarrett. He was my past. What we had was real, that’s true. And maybe we would always love each other, just like we texted when we broke up.

  But he broke up with me.

  And I moved on.

  And Kade has my heart now.

  That’s all there is to it. Jarrett and I are done. We’re over.

  And when I shut the shower off, I let the last bit of him that I was holding onto wash down the drain with the icy cold water.

  EVERY GIRL HAS THIS unique feeling when they know they look fine as hell.

  Sure, there are days when I’m in my sweatpants and a t-shirt with my hair in a messy bun and I’m like aww, I’m kind of cute right now. And there are days when my business casual outfit at work is color coordinated and fresh. And sure, there are nights when I go out with the girls, hair curled and lashes on, when all the looks from guys — and girls — as we pass lets me know I nailed the outfit.

  But then, there are nights like this.

  It’s the South Beach Agency Awards, which is about as close to the Grammys as it comes in our industry. Just like the event I went to with Brandon in Atlanta as his intern, only the best of the best are invited to the SBAA. This is where you learn who is at the top of the game, be it events, advertising, weddings, corporate conventions, or any other creative space.

  And if you’re invited, you better have enough sense to dress all the way up.

  Since the Ball & Pen Miami branch just opened in the first quarter, we’re not nominated for any of the awards tonight. But thanks to my memorable launch event, Celeste received two shiny gold tickets as an invitation to the festivities.

  One for her, and one for me.

  I would have dressed up regardless, but going through the nominees on the website and seeing that Okay, Cool was up for both Best Pop Up Event and Best Brand Engagement Event, I knew Brandon would be here.

  With that in mind, I went all out.

  My silky red dress is custom-made, floor-length, and strapless with a delicate loop of fabric draped across my left arm. It has a pearl-accented bust and a highly tapered waist that accentuates my figure and gives it even more of an hourglass shape, especially the way the fabric rouches around my hips and drapes down elegantly to the floor. Of course, there’s a long slit, just enough for my freshly tanned legs to peek through as I walk. And each time, my pearl and Swarovski crystal-covered heels glimmer in the chandelier light.

  My hair waterfalls over one shoulder in elegant curls, my highlights fresh and shiny, and my makeup is done to perfection. My lashes are black and thick, accented with falsies, my lips are painted a bright matte red to match my dress, and my eyes are smokey and sultry. Each accessory I picked out is tasteful, just enough to add to the outfit without detracting from it.

  I felt it when I left the house, and I feel it even more now as Celeste and I walk through the crowd, stopping to say hello and chat every now and then.

  All eyes are on me.

  I feel like a siren, a vixen, a witch. I keep my eyes non-focused for the most part, trained on Celeste as we walk and talk, or perhaps on taking in the scenery. But the moment I drop my gaze to a man or woman staring at me, all the blood rushes to their cheeks, and they falter for a smile or a nod of their head or a quiet, subdued hello.

  There are many ways for a woman to feel powerful, and I don’t care what anyone says — wearing a badass dress and heels is one of them.

  “We’ll be here again next year,” Celeste says softly to me as we walk, a smile on her face as she nods to groups as we pass. “Only next year, we’ll have a dozen nominations. Mark my words.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

  “One of them will be Best Launch Event,” she adds with a smirk. “You know I’m still getting calls requesting co-ops.”

  “The more the merrier, right?”

  “You’re going to be a very busy woman, Ashlei. I hope you’re ready for it.”

  I smile, and not just at her insinuation, but at the pair of warm brown eyes I just caught staring at me from across the ballroom.

  “Born ready.”

  Brandon is standing in a small group next to a cocktail table, a drink in his hand and the same woman at his side who was with him at our launch event. He looks absolutely delectable in his beige suit, tailored to perfection as alwa
ys. I don’t have to be close to him to know it’s designer and expensive as fuck, that the shoes on his feet probably cost more than my entire outfit combined, and that he’s wearing a Rolex watch worth more than any car I’ve ever owned.

  I also don’t have to be close to him to see that the sight of me knocked the breath from his chest.

  It’s in the way he’s holding his glass — a little too tight, a little too close to his chest — and in the way his brows are furrowed, his jaw set, his eyes ablaze where they watch me move across the room.

  “Excuse me, Celeste,” I say. “I’m going to freshen up.”

  She nods, and we part ways — her joining one group while I slowly make my way toward Brandon. He watches me the entire way, and I think I even see him shake his head subtly, as if to warn me.

  Don’t do this.

  Don’t try me.

  But it’s all I want to do.

  Someone else in the group notices as I approach, and his brow arches, his conversation cutting off right in the middle of whatever he was saying — which, of course, makes the rest of the group turn my way, too.

  It doesn’t make me quicken my steps.

  I take my time, squeezing the arms of a few people I know as I pass them on the way. Hello, lovely to see you, oh you look wonderful, too, yes let’s get a drink, I’ll be right back.

  I’ve got a confident smile painted on my lips when I finally reach Brandon, and I sidle up directly across from him, between two older gentlemen who are practically dripping drool on my arms.

  “Hello, Mr. Church.”

  I see the flash of fire in his eyes, the flare of his nostrils, the ticking of his jaw as he tries to soothe his breath. “Ms. Daniels.”

  “I wanted to congratulate you on your nominations this evening,” I say. “I have no doubt you’ll take home the gold.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “We have stiff competition, though,” the young woman next to him adds. “And once you’ve been in the game for a year, I imagine it’ll be even more so.”

  I smile, reaching across the small circle to squeeze her wrist briefly. “You’re too kind, Colleen.”

  Her eyes widen. “You remembered my name.”

  “Of course, I did,” I say. “You work for my old agency, and for one of the best, in my opinion.” I pause, then, locking my eyes on Brandon’s. “Okay, Cool will always have a special place in my heart.”

  Colleen covers her chest with clasped hands. “That’s so sweet. I will say, you’re sorely missed. Most of all by MyKayla. She talks about you all the time.”

  “Ha! That reminds me, I need to get her check in the mail.”

  That earns me a chuckle from the group, and just as quickly as I came, I nod and smile to each of them before excusing myself.

  I hold Brandon’s gaze last, my eyes lingering, and when everyone else has turned away and back to their conversation, I take my shot.

  Come and get me, I mouth.

  Brandon frowns, his nose flaring again as he blinks several times like he’s trying to convince himself he couldn’t have possibly heard what he just did.

  I just smile and bite my lower lip, turning slowly and making my way out of the ballroom to the hallway where the restrooms are.

  When I get to the door, I look over my shoulder, my eyes catching his again.

  Come on, I plead with my gaze. I know you want this just as bad as I do.

  With that final bit of voodoo, I exit the ballroom, inhaling what feels like my first fresh breath now that I’m out of his fiery gaze. I keep my shoulders held back and my head high as I walk to the restrooms, but instead of going to the ladies’ room, I duck around the corner and into the one and only family bathroom tucked away from the main hallway.

  When I’m inside, I blow out a breath, planting my hands on the sink and staring at my reflection. Suddenly, a laugh bubbles out of me, and I shake my head, arching a brow at myself.

  “This will never work,” I say out loud, as if to hammer it home and diminish any hope I have left.

  Still, I smooth my hands over my dress, touch up my hair, and stand against the wall directly across from where the door opens.

  The bathroom is large, made for moms with kids, I’m sure. There’s even an elegant changing table and a royal blue velvet chaise lounge. The counter has a basket with baby wipes and powder and even deodorant and a small first aid kit.

  My eyes keep flicking to the chaise.

  The longer I stand there, the more my heart rate recedes, and the excitement and adrenaline I had coursing through my veins starts to slowly drain.

  It must be at least five minutes since I walked in here, and he didn’t follow.

  I sigh, letting my head drop back against the wall. What did I really expect? The last time I ran into him, he essentially reiterated that he hated me.

  But the way he looked at me…

  I swallow, shaking my head at myself as a soft laugh leaves my chest. “Stupid girl.”

  And just as I’m ready to give up, to check my appearance one last time and rejoin the event, the doorhandle jiggles.

  My head pops off where I’d been resting it against the wall, and my breath hitches in my throat as the gold knob turns. The wide door slowly opens, just a sliver, just enough.

  Brandon slips through the opening and locks the door behind him.

  God, the way the air crackles to life when that lock clicks into place.

  Brandon keeps his back to the door, his hand on the knob, as if he’s one wrong look or word or move from bolting out again. His chest is already heaving, his eyes fiercely burning into mine.

  But he’s just standing there.

  Waiting.

  As if he can’t believe he followed me, that he found me, that he knew from just one look where I was going and what I wanted.

  But that’s the way it is with us, the way it’s always been.

  We’re connected on a chemical, molecular level.

  And nothing can change it.

  This is it, my heart whispers. It’s now or never.

  I still a breath, one that fills my lungs and helps me stand straighter as I push off where I was leaning against the wall. I take two steps toward Brandon, watching the way my approach makes his throat tighten, his grip on the doorknob increases.

  “So,” I say when I’m just a foot away from him. “Are we done with this break you wanted, or what? Because I want you, Brandon. I never stopped wanting you. And if you’re done punishing me now, I’d like you to bend me over this chaise and remind me that I belong to you. To only you.”

  The growl that rips from Brandon’s chest is primal, elemental, so animalistic that it makes me freeze up just like a gazelle threatened by a lion’s roar. In the next breath, Brandon’s hands are in my hair, yanking back as he shoves me back across the room until my spine hits the wall. My neck arches, my chin tilts, and with my next breath still lodged somewhere in my throat, Brandon crushes his mouth to mine.

  The moment our lips meet, we both exhale on a greedy moan, Brandon’s grip in my hair tightening even more as I reach around and grab his ass firmly in my palms. He kisses me so hard I taste the metallic tang of blood, but I push back just as hard, seeking him just as much.

  “I fucking hate you,” he seethes, grabbing both my wrists and pinning them over my head. When they’re locked under one of his hands, the other trails down to hike the silky fabric of my dress up over my hips.

  “No, you don’t,” I breathe back, dragging my tongue up his neck. “You could never hate something you own.”

  Another growl rips through him, and he skates his fingers under the band of my strap of a thong, slipping two fingers inside me without warning.

  I cry out, arching my back off the wall as Brandon bites my neck like a fucking vampire. “You broke me,” he pants, curling his fingers deep inside me.

  “So break me back.”

  “Fucking hell,” he hisses, and then just like I asked, he spins me until I nearly fall fl
at on my face on the navy blue chaise. My hands fly out just in time to break my fall, but my hips are bent over the back of it, my palms on the plush cushions, ass up in the air.

  I peek over my shoulder, batting my lashes as Brandon shakes his head and starts to undo his belt.

  “Pull your dress up and drop your panties,” he commands.

  A shiver runs through me, and I do as he says, assuming the same position once my bare ass is exposed.

  Brandon groans at the sight of me, dropping his pants to his knees and taking his full, heavy, heaving cock in his hand as he makes his way to me.

  His other hand is holding his belt.

  “Are you going to spank me?” I breathe.

  “You’re damn fucking right, I am.”

  Excitement and terror rip through me in equal measure. I’ve never been spanked before, not with anything more than a hand, and the way Brandon is glaring at me, I can’t tell if I’m going to like this or not be able to sit for a week.

  Maybe both.

  “Safe word?” he asks, rubbing his palm over my ass before folding his belt in two.

  “I trust you.”

  He shakes his head in warning, but then his focus is on my ass.

  He rears back, just a little, and then lands the leather on my skin.

  I hiss, arching away from the hit, but it only stings a little. I know he can hit harder, but he didn’t.

  “Don’t ever fucking kiss anyone else again,” he says, and he rears back a little more, slapping my ass with the leather enough to make me yelp.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That mouth of yours belongs to me.”

  Another whip.

  Another welp, I imagine.

  Another whispered, “Yes, sir.”

  “And for the love of God, Ashlei,” he says, holding the belt up higher, his eyes locked on mine where I’m watching him over my shoulder. “If I give you my heart again, don’t fucking break it. Don’t…”

  He swallows, and it’s then that I see the pain in his eyes, the emotion he’s been hiding. I push off the chaise, turning and wrapping my arms around him.

  “I won’t. I promise. I never will again.” I kiss his lips, his jaw, his cheeks, his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  Brandon holds the belt up even more, and then with a wince, he drops it.