A Dose of Pretty Poison: Chapter 20

The thing about birthdays is that everyone’s attention is on you. And normally, that would be great. My enjoyment being the goal of everyone’s night? Sounds amazing. Except…it’s not.

Because the only thing I want right now is to find a way to be alone with Hayes. And when it’s a party about you, that becomes even harder to do. Even being absent for a half hour could make someone wonder where I am.

Mali comes up and sits beside me. “It’s our party and you can cry if you want to?”

I hum, only half amused. “I’m having fun. It’s a great party.”

“It is a great party,” she agrees. “But the other part was a damn lie.”

Looking over at her, I sigh. “It just sucks. That’s all.”

Cam and Hayes always being by each other’s side is nothing new. They’ve been close for so long, they naturally sort of gravitate to each other. It’s the same way for Mali and me. But right now, I just want him to gravitate toward me.

Oh, God. I’m jealous of my brother.

Mali watches me pick at my shorts. I changed out of that hideous dress right after everyone got here. And when she tried to fight me on it, I used the excuse I had in my back pocket since I put the thing on.

I don’t want to risk someone seeing my tampon string.

She couldn’t argue it and I won, getting to change into a tank-top and a pair of jean shorts.

“Hey,” she nudges me. “I have an idea.”

My brows furrow as she hops off the picnic table and goes over to where the guys are setting up beer pong. I don’t know what the hell she has up her sleeve, but being anywhere but right beside her is stupid.

It’s not my mouth that’ll get me into trouble. It’s hers.

I’m up and on my way toward her in seconds. She crosses her arms over her chest as she stands in front of Cam. Honestly, for a second, I wonder if she’s going to attempt to hurt him.

Sending him to the hospital would be a Mali way to get Hayes and me alone.

Instead, she smiles. “Okay, we’re picking new teams.”

“What?” Cam argues. “You can’t do that. We always have the same teams.”

“I know, and I don’t feel like losing beer pong at my own party because you and Hayes are some kind of power couple. It’s not fair.” She keeps her head high, showing she’s not backing down.

My brother rolls his eyes as he groans. “Fine, but that’s not why you’re going to lose. You’re going to lose because you can’t make a shot to save your life.”

Her mouth opens to retort, but then she smiles deviously. “For that comment, I’m picking you.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Mali teases. “Walked yourself right into that one.”

He drops his head. “I know.”

Turning to me, Mali winks, and I swear, I love her so hard right now. “Lai, it’s your turn.”

I look at her like she’s crazy. “Hayes, obviously. I want to win.”

Cam scoffs in disbelief. “Now that’s unfair. None of us stand a damn chance.”

“Not with that attitude we don’t,” Mali chastises him. “Damn, Other Blanchard. You’re really batting a thousand tonight.”

His eyes narrow at her. “When we’re not celebrating your birthday, you’re going down.”

“Maybe when it’s your birthday,” she quips, then moves on like she didn’t just allude to a blowjob in front of everyone. “All right, everyone else’s partners will be decided the same way we decide everything. H?”

Hayes pulls the switchblade out of his pocket and hands it to her.

“Uh, what are you doing with that?” Monty questions.

Mali, being the little shit she is, smiles like a psycho. “Testing everyone’s blood types. Those that match will be partners.”

Horror fills Monty’s face as we all stay silent, until Owen breaks it by laughing. From there, it becomes contagious—all of us chuckling at the way he thought she was serious. Mali, however, is disappointed.

“Owen!” she whines. “I could’ve lasted for at least another minute.”

“The poor guy looked like he was about to stroke out,” he protests.

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t even make an effort to explain anything to Monty. So, I do it for her.

“Whenever we can’t decide something, we spin the switchblade. Whoever it lands on normally has to do the thing that none of us want to do,” I tell him. “In this case, it’ll work more like a spin the bottle. The person who spins and the person it lands on will be partners. But it really doesn’t matter, because Hayes and I are going to win the whole thing anyway.”

“Fuck yeah, we are!” Hayes says, going for a high five.

The minute my hand touches his, I realize how much I’m craving being alone with him—where we can be all over each other and speak without censoring ourselves. That little bit of contact is nowhere near enough.

THERE ARE FOUR TABLES set up, making the back yard look like a makeshift beer pong competition. We had to spread them out so balls didn’t get mixed up as they bounce off cups. Though, that’s a problem for everyone else.

I don’t miss.

Owen is teamed up with Aiden, but we’re all pretty sure they cheated. Monty ended up with Liam, a guy we went to high school with that Mali invited. But my favorite part of the pair up was when Devin’s spin landed on a guy she’s been crushing on for the better part of two years. Tommy Valentine.

Yes, he’s as cheesy as his name is.

The two of them have been playing cat and mouse forever. Either he likes her or she likes him, but it never happens at the same time. Until now. And big brother seems anything but happy about it.

“Leave her alone,” I tell him as he cranes his neck to watch her.

He shushes me. “I’m not doing anything. I’m simply keeping an eye on her.”

Looking across the table, I make sure our opponents aren’t paying attention. “Could you imagine how things would be if Cam was always keeping an eye on me?”

“That’s exactly why I’m keeping an eye on her.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I say sarcastically. “A brother’s only job is to cockblock their sisters.”

Hayes gets the point, sighing and finally looking away from them. “If he hurts her—”

“You’ll kill him,” I say with a sigh. “I know. Just don’t get blood on the switch blade. They’ll take it for evidence and then we can’t use it anymore.”

“Noted.”

The first few games are easy. Hayes and I make every shot, getting the balls back until there are no cups left. They get the chance for redemption, of course, but it’s useless. They miss, and we’re left waiting twenty more minutes until the next round.

I glance over at Devin just in time to see her hug Tommy as she makes her shot, winning them their game. I smile, just happy to see her enjoying herself, but I’m not the only one who sees it.

“They allow conjugal visits in prison, right?” Hayes asks.

Looking up at him, I smirk. “I think so. But if you don’t tell my soulmate I said hi when you see him, we’re done.”

“Now he’s your soulmate? I thought he was your best friend.”

“Position’s taken, and Mali is even worse at sharing than you.”

WITH EACH GAME WE play, the more comfortable we get around each other. Maybe a little too comfortable, if I’m honest. Hayes high fives me every time we win, which is literally every game, and when we start to get a little bored, we up the stakes.

“You know, neither of us has missed a single shot,” I tell him. “It would be such a shame if you fucked up now.”

It’s along the same lines as what he told me during our first bonfire of the summer. He chuckles as he takes his shot, but the damage is done. I jinxed him. It hits the rim and flies to the right, off the table.

“Why’d you have to fuck with me like that?” He pouts.

I smile innocently. “Who, me? I would never.”

“Mm-hm.”

It’s my turn to shoot. I step up to the table, but the angle is off. When I go to take a step to the left, the side of my body bumps into Hayes.

“Excuse me,” I sass. “I need you to move.”

He snickers as he raises his hands and takes a step back.

“God,” I grumble. “Gotta carry the whole team by myself over here.”

The sound of Hayes laughing almost fucks me up, but thankfully, I shoot the ball before second guessing myself too much. It sinks directly into the cup, making a splash sound as it goes in.

“See how that’s done?” I tease.

His eyes darken, almost like he’s picturing all the ways he can make me pay for this later, and I can’t fucking wait.

THE LAST GAME BEFORE we face Cam and Mali is against Monty and Brandon. Honestly, I’m a little surprised that Monty is good enough to make it this far. I thought he was too high-class for this sort of thing. But it turns out, rich kids can party like the best of them.

Once Hayes missed the one shot, he’s missed a few since then. I, however, have only missed one—and that was because I went a little too far with telling him he’s useless at this game. He walked behind me just as I was taking my shot, and the way his hand lightly brushed against my lower back made me flinch.

It’s not fair. He shouldn’t be allowed to touch me when I’m this high strung.

This game is a close one, and that’s saying a lot, being as we won almost every game by a landslide. We may be down to our last cup, but they’re down to three. I don’t think anyone has made it that far against us yet.

While Monty lines up to take his shot, I pull my phone and type a message into it. Once I’m done, I place it on the table in front of us so Hayes has a chance to read it without looking obvious.

Sink this next shot and I’ll blow you.

I know the second he reads it because his head falls back as he groans. His eyes meet mine, and I can tell he’s struggling to keep his hands off me.

“Seriously?” he asks.

Monty’s shot goes wide, still leaving them with three cups.

“Do you really think I would joke about that?” I tease. “Aren’t those things like sacred to guys?”

His smile brightens. “Yes, and if you could experience one, you’d agree.”

“Mmm, I’ve experienced something else. I’m sure I can imagine.”

Impulsively, as if he’s remembering the taste of me, he licks his lips—just in time for Mali to interrupt. She stands in front of the beer pong table, leaning back against it with a glass of wine in her hand.

She’s definitely tipsy.

“No joke, your fuck-me eyes are even turning me on,” she tells us, but keeps her voice low. “I’d cool it if you don’t want Cam to realize what’s going on.”

Ugh, I fucking hate this. But what I hate even more is when Brandon uses Mali as a backboard, bouncing the ball off her back and getting it in the cup. Monty and Brandon high five, while Mali grins in a way that begs me not to hurt her.

“Oops?”

“Mali,” I warn.

She quickly moves away from the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

But before I can even drink the beer from the cup they made, I hear the distinct sound of the ball being sunk into the last cup. Looking up at Hayes, he winks.

He made the damn shot and won the blowjob.

And with them failing to get the last two cups, the game is ours.

“Can we do that for every game cup?” Hayes asks as we move all the cups back into place.

My brows furrow as I look at his smug yet eager grin. “My jaw would never close again.”

He stares back at me, chuckling for a second. “I’m not seeing an issue here.”

If I pretend to have a muscle spasm and bite him when he cashes in later, is there any way Cam wouldn’t find out what we were doing?

OKAY, SOMEHOW MALI GOT better at beer pong, and I have to say—I’m not really happy about it right now. Cam is good. On some days, he’s even better than me. But I was counting on the fact that Mali makes one shot for every three she takes on a good day. Right now, she’s sinking more shots than she’s missing.

“Mali, I swear to God,” I growl. “You’re somewhat decent as my partner, but as Cam’s, you start knowing how to play?”

Mali shrugs as Cam makes me want to slap the smirk off his face.

“I saw the mistakes she was making and corrected them,” my brother explains. “You’ve got to work with the cards you’ve been dealt.”

I glare at the two of them. Here I was thinking that Mali took Cam as her partner so I could have Hayes, but she must have really meant it when she said she didn’t want to lose at her own party.

But it’s our party, and one of us is going to lose.

“Relax,” Hayes tells me. “It’s just a game.”

I sigh heavily. “It’s not. If we lose against them, Cam will always insist he’s the best. That I lost with Mali as my partner, but he didn’t. And it’s not just me. He’ll never let you hear the end of it either.”

Hayes takes his shot and makes it with ease. “You’re forgetting something.”

“What’s that?”

“I know his weak spots.”

He steps off to the side of the table and nods for me to do the same. Cam sends Hayes a dirty look before aiming the ball. The second it leaves his fingers, my jaw drops. We watch as it flies right over the table and lands in the grass.

He missed.

“Fucking asshole,” Cam growls.

But Hayes has never looked hotter to me than he does right now.

MALI AND I WALK Monty out to his car—a blacked-out Range Rover with a sound system that could blow out your eardrums. He wanted to stay later, but he has a breakfast date planned with his mom. Honestly, I was surprised he came at all. I thought he would still be on vacation in Barcelona, but he flew back a day early and came here straight from the airport.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he tells us. “And now that I’m back, we can hang out more.”

“You mean you’re not jet setting around the world all summer?” Mali teases.

He snickers and shakes his head. “Nah. I’ll be around.”

Giving Mali a hug first, he says goodbye to her and then turns to me. I step closer and his arms wrap tightly around me.

“Happy Birthday, Laiken,” he says softly. “I’m glad I was able to celebrate it with you.”

“Yeah, me too.” I step out of his hold, feeling like I’m being watched. “I’ll see you later.”

He looks me up and down and smiles. “Count on it.”

As he drives away, Mali leans into my side. “Does he have a thing for you?”

“I don’t think so,” I tell her. “I’m pretty sure he’s gay.”

She snorts, turning around to head back to the party, but we both stop short when we see Hayes standing there, watching us. Watching me. And he does not look happy. He starts walking toward the front door of the house, and I know I’m supposed to follow him.

“Have fun with that,” Mali says. “I’ll try to make sure Cam doesn’t come looking for you two.”

“Thanks.”

She heads for the backyard, and I take a deep breath before walking over to Hayes. The whole way, I rack my brain trying to think of anything that could have irritated him, but I come up empty.

“You okay?” I ask the second I’m close enough.

Instead of answering, he grabs my wrist and pulls me inside. He knows we can’t go to my room; that’s the first place someone would look for me. So, we end up in the guest room. It’s downstairs, tucked in a hallway off the living room. Most days, I forget it’s even here.

The moment the door shuts behind us, he presses me up against it and his mouth meets mine in a bruising kiss. It’s desperate, like he was going to self-destruct any moment without it. But then he forces himself to back away by pushing off the door.

He’s taking a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to calm himself, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

“What’s it going to take for you to never let another guy put their hands on you again?” he growls.

My brows furrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Out there!” he shouts, pointing toward the window that faces the front yard. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

He can’t be serious right now. “With Monty? It was a goodbye hug.”

Scoffing, he rolls his eyes. “Maybe to you, but I saw him all fucking night, watching you like you were the only thing in the damn room. He wants you!”

“He does not.”

“He does,” he argues. “And all I wanted to do is rip his hands right off your body. To see him hug you like that…God. I almost lost it. If you hadn’t backed away when you did, I may have.” He pauses to tug at his hair. “You can’t. You can’t let him touch you again. I can’t handle it.”

“Funny, that sounds a lot like boyfriend talk,” I say, only a bit sarcastic.

He turns to glare at me. “Is that what this is about? I won’t give you a title, so you let some rich douchebag think he can try to get with you?”

“I’m not letting anyone think anything!” I yell, not giving a fuck anymore if someone can hear me. “It was a fucking hug! I hugged half the guys here tonight!”

“Yeah, I know,” he sneers. “And watching it was my own personal form of torture. But Moneybags plans on sticking around more than a few pricks you see once a year, and I’m letting you know now, I don’t fucking like it.”

It’s so not the place to be smiling, but I can’t help it—and biting my lip does nothing to stifle it. Hayes’s chest moves with each heavy breath he takes, but when he sees it, he expels all the air in his lungs.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I try.

He takes a step closer. “Nuh-uh. What are you looking at me like that for?”

I shrug and shake my head. “No, it’s nothing. I just never took you for the jealous type.”

His eyes darken as he comes toward me, putting his hands on the door on either side of me. “I’m not jealous—I’m possessive. There’s a difference. And I’ve told you before. You. Are. Mine.”

Smirking, I keep my gaze locked with his while my hands start to undo the button on his jeans. “Well, Mr. Possessive, let me show you just how little you have to worry about.”

I arch up and kiss him softly as my hand slides into his boxers. He’s already hard and waiting for me. The moment I wrap my fingers around him, he hisses against my mouth.

“Someone’s needy,” I tease.

But he isn’t having it. He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in, forcing my mouth open and tangling his tongue with mine. I start to slide my hand up and down his shaft, slowly at first, and then speeding up as he moans.

“Laiken,” he groans.

I bat my lashes as I look up at him. “What? Is this not how you do it?”

His jaw locks, and he presses his forehead to mine. “You do not want to do that right now, baby. I’m already going to have to stop myself from fucking your mouth.”

“Don’t,” I say simply. “I don’t want you to hold yourself back from anything.”

He stops breathing for a second, then exhales. “You don’t… You’ve never done this before. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” I drop down to my knees, pooling his pants and boxers around his ankles. “I trust you.”

Hayes watches me as I bring his cock to my lips, carefully sucking on the tip and swirling my tongue around it. I’m not a pro by any means; I’m just doing what I saw in the couple porn videos I watched for tutoring. And by the way his eyes fall closed as I take him into my mouth and hollow my cheeks around him, I’d say I’m doing a semi-decent job.

“Fuck,” He moans. “That’s my good girl.”

The praise has me taking him deeper, wanting nothing more than to please him. It’s something I never knew I was into until the morning he fingered me in my bedroom. But there’s something about him telling me I’m doing a good job that spurs me on.

My hand moves with my mouth, sliding up and down his cock in all the places I’m not currently sucking on. Each time I take him into the back of my throat, his whole body clenches. And when his hand comes down to rest on the top of my head, lacing his fingers into my hair, I know what he wants.

Pulling him out of my mouth with a pop, I lick my lips and look up at him. “Do it.”

He looks conflicted as he bites his lip. “If I start to hurt you, you have to tell me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” I say, waving him off. “I just want you to do it. Use my mouth for your pleasure.”

Before he can argue it further, I wrap my lips around him once more and swallow around him. Whatever restraints he still had snap in that moment, and he grips my hair tightly, thrusting into my mouth.

It takes a minute to adjust as he drives himself into the back of my throat, but there’s something about it that’s so fucking hot. I make sure my lips are covering my teeth—thank you, Cosmopolitan—and let his dick slide back and forth over my tongue.

“God,” he murmurs. “You’re fucking perfect, taking all of me in your mouth. You’re amazing, baby.”

I moan, vibrating my mouth around him, and he reacts by slamming himself into the back of my throat. I choke and gag on his cock, making him freeze.

“Shit, I hurt you, didn’t I?”

His dick slips out of my mouth, pulling some saliva with it. “No. Now stop worrying. I want it. Want to choke on your cock.”

He smiles lazily as I immediately go back to bobbing my head on him. “You are going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, I move my hands to the backs of his legs and pull him closer. Without my hold on his dick, he goes even deeper. His head falls forward like he’s not even trying to hold it up anymore, and his breathing stutters.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he orders as he uses both his hands to control my head. “Let me see how you play with yourself while I fuck your mouth.”

I do as I’m told, sliding one hand into my shorts while the other stays on the side of his leg. My finger brushes over my clit, and I jump from the sensitivity. I’ve wanted him so badly all night that just this has the ability to send me over the edge.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “Now, if you want me to stop, tap on my leg three times. Understood?”

I nod in confirmation, and he doesn’t waste any time as he pulls my head onto his cock completely. My nose brushes his skin as he buries himself in my throat. It cuts off my air supply, but only for a moment before he pulls back out again.

My fingers move in circles, trying to imitate the way Hayes does it, and while it feels nothing like him, seeing him using me for his pleasure is enough to make up for it. He fucks my mouth like he’s been dying for it. And the way I choke on him is everything—for both of us.

His legs start to shake as he gets close, and the faster he moves, my fingers match his pace. I moan around him as water fills my eyes from gagging on his cock. And when I look up at him, completely wrecked and wanting nothing more than for him to fill my mouth with his cum, his mouth falls open.

He looks so fucking hot as we stare at each other, and when he finally explodes, shooting everything he has down my throat, my orgasm follows—taking me with him right over the edge. I rub myself through it as I swallow every drop he gives me, only letting him slip from my mouth when I know I got it all.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes. “Holy fucking fuck.”

I take my hand out of my shorts and sit on my heels, looking up at him through hooded lashes. “Did I do okay?”

“Did you…”

He stops and puts his hand out to help me up. I take it and as soon as I stand, he runs his thumb over my cheek.

“You were phenomenal,” he tells me. “I’m starting to think there isn’t anything you’re not amazing at.”

“I just want to be good for you.”

“You are,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “So fucking good for me, all the time.”

But the double meaning lingers in the air.

Maybe if I’m good enough, our inevitable end will never come.

Maybe if I’m good enough, he’ll choose me.