54. Chapter Fifty Three

Chapter Fifty Three

F riday night. I nod slightly at myself in the bathroom mirror, my blue eyes wide and body coated in droplets from a recent shower.

I've barely seen the guys all day. Granted I've been locked away in my own room. I didn't have half as many midterms as the others and Axel had an online lecture this afternoon so I took the chance to curl up in bed and read. Whenever Garrett's planning is involved, I have no doubt I'll need my energy. Physical, mental and social energy.

Beyond the bathroom, I hear my door open and click shut. Hugging the towel around myself, I peek out. There's no one there, but a lone, nondescript box is on the floor just inside the room. I'm smiling before I've even picked it up and deposited it on the bed. The note on top reads:

‘Put it on and drink this. We're already drunk.'

"So romantic," I snort, lifting the lid. Wow, Garrett really pushed the boat out. A set of white lace underwear and a bottle of pink gin lies in the tissue paper. That's all. I try not to overthink, trusting that there's a plan. Or the plan is a drunken orgy, as I predicted. The set is simple and fits perfectly, a soft lace thong and a bra without any underwire. I slip a robe over the top, leaving my feet bare.

Chugging the gin, I spare another look in the bathroom mirror. My face is recently washed, fresh and slightly flushed. A smattering of freckles is visible over my nose. Chewing on my lip, I decide to leave myself free of make-up to match Garrett's simplistic vibe. I twist my blonde hair up into a claw clip, the ends slightly damp and beginning to curl. That's that.

Leaving the room behind, gin bottle in hand, I follow the low sound of music. The only light on is coming from beneath Wyatt's bedroom door. I tiptoe past, eager to leave him to his stewing. The party is hard to locate at first, taking me on a tour through the house. There's no one about, but evidence of empty beer bottles lining the kitchen island. They really did start early, and I have some catching up to do.

I realize the music is coming from the garage. Slipping out onto the back porch, I inch towards the back garage entrance, not trusting the paparazzi not to climb the fence for a photo opportunity. I'm sure seeing me creeping around in my robe would make a front cover somewhere.

Pushing open the door, darkness and music drags me inside. Some type of plastic crinkles beneath my feet, the cars and bikes nowhere to be seen. I can sense those moving about inside, shadows waiting to pounce. A thrill of excitement runs through me. The door is closed and light suddenly flicks on, but not the usual one. UV bulbs flicker, soon revealing four beautifully crafted bodies in white boxers. Our underwear illuminates, as do the smiles closing in. Huxley, with his shaggy blond hair and mischievous grin, catches my attention first.

"Hey," I beam. I fall into his arms, forgetting the rest of our company for a moment. A wealth of emotion hits me, and a weight I didn't realize I'd been carrying suddenly lifts. Huxley is out of his room and joining in again. He kisses my head.

"I won't stay long, but I wanted to try for you." I beam up at him. From behind, my robe is untied and peeled down my arms. My fingers linger on Huxley's hips, the circular pink scar just below his collarbone dull in the current lighting. If I didn't search for it, I could almost convince myself it wasn't there and I didn't owe this man my life. As it stands, I'm well aware of those facts and I can't help seeking out his comfort. My lips press over his heart, leaving a tender kiss there before I'm turned in a slow circle.

"We need to finish getting you ready," Axel says, his voice barely audible over the music. A Spotify mix of old school pop leaks from Bluetooth speakers, anything with a baseline really. Axel holds up a bottle of neon pink paint, shaking it suggestively. A grin splits across my face as the pieces start to fall into place. He nudges Dax, who's absently bobbing his head to the beat. AKA, drunk out of the other side of his face. It must have been a rough week for him.

Dax, ever the gentleman, reaches out a hand to steady me as Huxley steps back and I lose my leaning post. "Careful," he teases, his blue eyes twinkling. There are hands and chiseled abs everywhere, surrounding me. Garrett wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me towards a bench covered in neon paints. Every color imaginable and a handful of paintbrushes. My eyes flicker to the floor and walls, now noticing the plastic sheets covering every available space.

"Ready to get messy?" he asks, his breath warm against my ear.

"Always," I reply, taking a long swig of gin. Someone plucks the bottle from my grip and replaces it with a bottle of green paint. Dax, with his striking blond hair, is already squeezing out some neon orange paint into his palm. He doesn't hesitate, playfully smearing a streak of paint across Axel's chest. Axel visibly shudders and then laughs, a deep, infectious sound that makes my heart skip a beat.

It's a beautiful sight. The boys are easy, grinning and bumping shoulders. They form a circle around me, each armed with different colors of paint. Garrett, never one to miss an opportunity for theatrics, dips his fingers into the yellow paint and trails them down my arm, leaving a vivid, glowing trail in their wake.

"You look even more beautiful in neon," he murmurs, his dark eyes intense.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," I quip back. Coating my entire hand in green, I slap my palm against his abs. There's a momentary tensing and then it's gone, Garrett's relaxed demeanor returning. I focus on him first, creating a secondary armor to the ink he wears, covering the body he is uncomfortable with. Axel helps, coating Garrett in multicolored handprints alongside mine. In red, I draw a huge heart over his real one. He laughs, the sound blending with the music.

And so it goes. Garrett smears blue paint across Huxley's tattooed back, and Huxley retaliates with a swipe of orange down Dax's arm. The brushes come out, but no one is working on a masterpiece. Smears become splashes, streaks of paint flying across bodies and glowing brightly under the blacklights. Dax gets the brunt of the attack as we gang up, flicking paint all over his tanned skin. I'm swept up in the fun of it, so that I don't sense the shift of attention until they're all facing me once more. A simple smile sits on each one of their faces.

The brushes are on me then. Soft strokes of bristles, tickling my sides, my thighs, my feet. No patch of skin is left untouched. Heat rises to my cheeks, both from the excitement and the attention of their hungry eyes. Garrett pulls me into a playful dance, spinning me around before dipping me low, making me giggle.

"Garrett! You're smudging me!" I cry out, sliding against his torso. He pauses, looking up thoughtfully.

"That's a new one. Usually, it's ‘Garrett, you're destroying me.' "

Without any venom, I slap his cheek with a blue hand, leaving my mark. He responds by shoving his tongue down my throat. Rookie move on my part - assaulting Garrett will only make him cum quicker. Warm hands slide over my back and waist, multiple bodies caging me in. Garrett's mouth consumes my thoughts, my heart swelling and thighs clenching. Every nerve ending is alive, sparking with the electricity in the garage. Breaking away from Garrett but remaining in his hold, I lean my head back onto someone else's shoulder. My head is spinning and I'm far too eager to dive into this headfirst. Whatever this is .

"I believe you owe me," Huxley's chest rumbles at my back. His fingers glide along my jaw, tilting my head up to his face.

"Because you took a bullet for me," I nod in understanding. Huxley flinches, his chocolate eyes suddenly pained.

"What?! No! I'm not some asshole who would hold my injury over you for sex."

"I am," Garrett shrugs, kissing a path along my neck. Huxley ignores him. The lightheartedness returns to his features, a playful smirk on his lips.

"You owe me from Silk and Satin. I was promised some kinky fun and I'm ready to cash in." I bite the inside of my cheek. Technically, it was Garrett who was pimping me out that night but I keep it to myself. I've been walking around Huxley on eggshells, not wanting to rush his recovery. But fuck, I want him. I want all of them. Garrett isn't the only selfish one here. Turning in his hold, I push up onto my tiptoes to bring me closer to Huxley's jaw.

"Cash me in," I breathe, using the paint to push my fingers over his pecs. With some gentle assistance, I ease Huxley back to the paint table. Garrett follows, his hands not leaving me for a second. Dax and Axel have stepped back to sip their drinks and watch. Axel's fingers are toying with Dax's, seeking affection, craving comfort. Dax lets it happen.

Taking the initiative, I clear off the paints with a swipe of my arm. They crash to the floor in a messy heap. At the jerk of my chin, Huxley sits, his long legs bent at a right angle and feet still firmly on the floor.

"Garrett," I state clearly. His head raises from the crook of my neck, a dazed hum leaving him. Is he drunk on alcohol or drunk on me? "Switch with Dax. Axel needs your attention." His pause is minimal, the curve of his smile against my ear.

"Oh, I like this side of you, Peach." Kissing my hair, he does as directed. Strolling over to Axel and clapping Dax on the nape, Garrett gives him a light shove in my direction. I grin, holding out my hand. Dax bumbles over, his smile easy, his fingers loose on the neck of a beer bottle. I take it and swig the rest down, tugging him close with my other hand. It's time to put Dax's easygoing attitude to the test. Will he quickly sober up, or will he surprise me like he continues to do?

"Lie on the floor, I'm going to sit on your face." Dax's blue eyes darken, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He does just that, laying himself across the paint-smeared plastic, his head between Huxley's feet. I have all of their attention, and the accompaniment of Billie Ellish to my strip tease. I pop my bra first, tugging the straps free. Cool air hits my nipples and adrenaline floods my core. Every set of eyes is heated, watching from a distance. No one makes a move to rush me or beckon me closer. Teasing my thumbs in the lace of my thong, I throw a flirtatious look at Garrett.

"I thought I told you to give Axel your attention." Instead of standing still, palming himself through his boxers, Garrett jerks into action. Freeing Axel's cock, he squeezes the base, drawing a moan from Axel which almost undoes me then and there. Raw pleasure contorts his features, as if he's been starving for Garrett's touch. Something I've been wondering since the hospital, since Axel started enforcing the distance between them. They need each other and I'm only too happy to be the one orchestrating their pleasure for once.

My thong slides down my legs and I turn my attention to Huxley. Patient, remarkable Huxley. My fingers trail over the circular scar at his collarbone once more, hiding but still puckered beneath my touch. He's quick to take my hand, running it over his chest and abs. The paint is a mess of colors now, smeared in every crevice. Gripping his waistband, Huxley shifts so the painted cotton lowers and his cock springs free. He's painfully hard, weeping already.

"I've been waiting so long for this," he murmurs. I smile coyly.

"I know." Lowering myself down onto my knees, Dax widens my thighs and positions me over his face. His tongue drags over my cunt at the same time as I lick Huxley's plump, purple head. We all groan in unison. I'm careful not to use my hands, not wanting to cover Hux's shaft in luminescent paint as my mouth glides over the silky, smooth surface. His thighs, though, are fair game.

My fingers dig into the firm muscles, feeling the tension and eagerness beneath my palms. He bucks slightly as I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock, tasting the salty bead of precum gathered there. He's large, as I knew he would be. The gin has helped to relax me enough to take him deep and hold him there until he squirms. There is nothing more empowering than making a fully grown man squirm and whimper.

In the background, Axel is doing an equal amount of just that. His hips buck into Garrett's grip, fucking his hand. His tongue is in Garrett's mouth, a mess of paint smeared over their faces and into Garrett's hair. I could watch them for hours if Huxley's hand didn't grab the back of my head and urge my focus back onto him. I bob up and down, not withholding the building need Dax is creating within me.

Dax's tongue is working wonders, flicking and swirling over my clit expertly, sending waves of pleasure rippling through my core. His fingers are everywhere, parting my pussy to grant him full access, stroking a path over my ass and back again. He eats me out like it's his first meal and I reckon I could let him go for hours. My tender, attentive Dax with a secret devilish tongue. I don't want it to end.

My moans vibrate against Huxley's cock, and he groans too, a deep, guttural sound which spurs me on. I take him deeper, my lips sliding over his shaft, my tongue pressed flat against the underside. Dax's hands grip my hips, pulling me down harder against his mouth. The dual sensations are overwhelming, a delicious blend of pleasure that makes my legs tremble.

I steady myself by gripping Huxley's thighs even tighter, my nails leaving crescent moons in his skin. The intensity of his need is palpable, the throbbing heat against my lips too good to deny. Huxley's breath hitches, and I know he's close. I hollow my cheeks, increasing the suction, and he moans louder, his grip in my hair tightening.

Without realizing, my hips are rocking back and forth, taking my pleasure further. Dax's tongue delves deeper, tension coiling in my belly - a tight, insistent knot of desire that's about to unravel. My movements become more urgent, more desperate, and Huxley's hips thrust up, his cock sliding deeper into my mouth.

Sucking hard on my clit, Dax pushes me over the edge. An orgasm crashes through me, a tidal wave of sensation that has me crying out around Huxley's cock. The vibrations send him spiraling toward his own climax, his hips jerking as he comes, filling my mouth with the hot, salty rush of his release. I swallow him down hungrily. Leaning upwards on my knees, Dax slides free and bands an arm around my waist .

"My turn," he says into my ear, lifting me to stand. I release Huxley with a pop. Pausing for long enough for Huxley to kiss me deep and slow, he smiles.

"I'm done for tonight, Little Swan. Come spoon me later." I nod, my heart swelling. I'm just so glad he came and joined in. It feels right when we're all together. Slipping away, Huxley leaves an empty spot on the table.

"On your back sweetheart," Dax orders, his voice thick with lust. I bite my bottom lip. I could get used to Dom Dax. Sprawling across the table, briefly wondering why garage benches have become my niche, Dax lifts my legs. One at a time, he strokes his fingers from my feet, to calves and then thighs, leaving my legs pressed against his chest. Each shift of movement is caught by the UV lights, our bodies glowing brightly. Lining himself up with my entrance, my head rolls back.

"Wait!" Garrett shouts, skidding across the painted plastic like an ice rink. He slams a foil packet against Dax's chest. "Until I see a full bill of clean health, you're suiting up."

"Are you serious? I've never had anything in my life."

"STDs are no joke, my friend. I made Axel have one before he took Avery to the ball." My brows raise. Dax relents, nodding his thanks. No doubt Dax believes he is feeling the effects of his beer, but I know better. Garrett has always secretly kept my safety at the forefront of his mind. He may be reckless in all other aspects of life, but not with me. Not about this.

Sliding the condom over his cock, I lie there, appreciating Dax's size and the deeply-ingrained V lining his abdomen. Dax is a sculpted work of art, the sinew of muscles tensing when he shifts. His blue eyes raise to mine and I'm lost, ready for this man to do whatever he wants to me.

He enters me slowly, teasingly, his cock stretching me in the most delicious way. The cool sensation of the condom is a stark contrast to the heat building between us. I gasp, my back arching off the table, my legs trembling against his chest. Dax's grip on my thighs tightens, and I can feel his control slipping as he pushes deeper, filling me completely. Once fully seated, Dax withdraws and slams in with harsh, swift thrusts. I gasp, tensing in all the right places.

Garrett moves to my side, his hand coming to rest on my forehead, smoothing back the strands of hair that cling to my skin. I'm certain he's making more of a mess than he's fixing, but I can't complain. His touch is gentle, a grounding presence amidst the overwhelming pleasure. He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear.

"How does he feel?" he whispers, his voice a soothing counterpoint to Dax's rough, primal movements.

"Perfect," I manage to breathe out, my fingers curling around the edges of the table, holding on for dear life. Every movement sends electric sparks shooting through my body, each thrust hitting that perfect spot that makes my vision blur. Axel appears at my other side, his boxers firmly in place. He smiles stupidly like a man sated while a lone finger circles my nipple.

Dax's pace quickens, the sounds of our bodies coming together filling the air, mingling with our gasps and moans. The UV lights cast an otherworldly glow across our skin, highlighting the slick sheen of sweat and the streaks of paint decorating us. It's surreal, a vivid explosion of color and sensation. I'll have many drunk dreams about this later.

Axel's hands slide over my body, squeezing my breasts, tweaking my nipples just enough to send another wave of pleasure coursing through me. Both his and Garrett's touches are light, teasing, and completely opposite to Dax's unrelenting drive. I turn my head, capturing Garrett's lips in a desperate kiss, needing to feel him, to connect with him amidst the whirlwind. Fingers graze my clit and I hear the sharp slap of Dax nudging whoever it is away.

"Avery is only coming for me tonight." I drop my head back against the table, savoring that frantic growl. I didn't know I needed to hear it, but now, all I want is for Dax to talk to me that way. Dark, dirty and desperate.

Dax's rhythm becomes erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I can feel him throbbing inside me, so close to the edge. His hands slide from my thighs to my hips, pulling me even closer, deeper, his thrusts growing more frantic. The sensation is almost too much, pushing me higher. My orgasm reaches its peak at the same time his does. I cry out, my body convulsing as Dax groans, his own release a powerful, shuddering explosion.

We collapse together, Dax's body heavy and comforting over mine. Garrett's arms wrap around us both, holding us close, his breath warm and steady against my skin. Axel continues his gentle, lazy strokes along my sides. The world slowly comes back into focus, the glowing aftermath of our passion a soft, comforting haze.

"Garrett," I murmur, feeling the weight of exhaustion and satisfaction settle over me. He hums his acknowledgement. "This was a really good fucking idea."

"I hope you didn't doubt me for a second." I can't suppress my giggle, and even Dax huffs a laugh. We all doubted him, but he definitely came through. Garrett's lips press against my forehead, a tender kiss I lean into.

"You're a work of art, Peach. Painting you was at the top of my to-do list. The rest was inevitable."