Chapter 5: The
The hot shower water did little to cleanse her. It sluiced over her skin, between her breasts, down the trembling insides of her thighs, carrying away the physical evidence but not the memory. Her body felt different—used, stretched, oddly hollow even as it throbbed with a residual ache. She dressed in soft cotton pajamas, the fabric feeling innocent against her sensitized skin.
When Cam knocked, his smile was like a key turning in a rusty lock. Guilt, sharp and acidic, flooded her mouth.
“Hey, you,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. His touch was gentle. It almost hurt.
They ate takeout on her dorm room floor, the cartons between them. He talked about his engineering project, his words a comforting, familiar hum. She nodded, forcing smiles, her mind replaying the brutal, ecstatic sounds from Jax’s bedroom. The way the carved lion had shaken. The look in Jax’s eyes when he told her to cum.
“You okay, Nia? You’re quiet,” Cam said, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Just tired,” she lied, reaching to squeeze his hand. “Long day.”
Later, on her narrow twin bed, he made love to her. It was sweet. It was slow. He kissed every part of her with a reverence that now felt like a weight. When he entered her, she gasped, as she always did—he was big, Cam was truly big—but her body’s response was a learned script. The fullness was there, the friction pleasant, the building warmth genuine. But it was like listening to a song played on a distant radio. The crashing, symphonic intensity of Jax, the feeling of being utterly and dangerously occupied, was absent.
She wrapped her legs around Cam’s back, urging him deeper, chasing a ghost of that feeling. He rocked into her, his breath sweet against her neck, murmuring how beautiful she was, how good she felt. She came with a soft, shuddering sigh, her climax a gentle wave that broke politely on a shore. His followed, a familiar pulsing warmth inside her.
As he drifted to sleep, his arm heavy over her waist, she stared at the water stain on the ceiling. Her body hummed with a restless, unsatisfied energy. The emptiness returned, more profound than before. She carefully extracted herself, padded to her desk, and swallowed her contraceptive pill with a sip of flat Coke. The little plastic packet was a secret tucked between her physics textbook and her Bible.
Across town, the air was thick with smoke and the din of a crowded sports bar. Jax sprawled in a leather booth, a tower of empty beer glasses and buffalo wing bones between him and his two offensive linemen, Marcus and Derrick.
“So, what was the big emergency?” Marcus grunted, sucking hot sauce from his thumb. “You had us keep Cam busy for two whole hours talking about engine coolant. Kid was about to chew his own arm off.”
Jax took a long pull of his beer, a slow, wolfish smile spreading across his face. “Had some business to attend to.”
“What business?” Derrick leaned in, his eyes glinting. “The kind that involves that tight little white girl Cam’s been sniffing after?”
Jax said nothing, his smile answer enough.
“No shit?” Marcus chuckled, low and dirty. “You dog. How was it?”
Setting his bottle down with a definitive click, Jax let his gaze wander over the crowded bar. “Tighter than a fucking fist. Sobbing the whole time. Took every inch.” The memory hardened his expression, his jaw tightening. “Fucking incredible.”
Derrick whistled. “Cam’s gonna have your head, man. He’s stupid in love with that one.”
“Cam gets what I allow him to have,” Jax said, his voice dropping an octave, devoid of its earlier humor. “He always has.”
There was a beat of respectful silence. They’d seen the dynamic for years. Jax was the heir; Cam was the guest.
“So…” Marcus ventured, swirling his whiskey. “She worth a second round?”
Jax looked at them, his gaze calculating. He saw the raw hunger in their eyes, the same hunger that lived in his father’s, in his own. A new idea, dark and glittering, took shape. Trez had taught him that some pleasures were sharper when shared, when they became a display of power.
“She’s got a talent,” Jax said slowly. “A hungry little mouth. A cunt that loosens up real nice once it’s broken in.” He leaned forward, his voice a conspiratorial gravel. “Thing is… she came harder when I told her she was a good girl for taking it all than she probably ever has with him. Some girls are just built for more.”
Derrick’s nostrils flared. “You saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I’m saying,” Jax finished his beer, “that maybe we show her what she’s really built for. All of us. Together.”
Marcus’s grin was a gash across his face. “A tutorial.”
“Exactly.” Jax stood up, throwing a wad of cash on the table. “I’ll set it up. Cam’s got that all-day robotics thing Saturday. She’ll be… available.”
He walked out into the cool night, the image of Nia—spread open, tear-streaked, obedient—burning in his mind. It wasn’t enough to have taken her. He wanted to see what happened when she was truly devoured. He pulled out his phone and sent a single text to her.