Wrap my hand around ur dick

NEW YORK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – VIP SECTION

The moment Tate McDonald stepped onto the tarmac, a collective gasp rippled through the waiting crowd. SHe moved like liquid gold—sequined jumpsuit shimmering under the lights, each step a practiced sway that screamed stage presence and red-carpet royalty.

Tate McDonald—rebellious solo singer, ex-member of Golden Echo.The only girl in the group .The reason for her dismissal from the group remained a mystery, but her solo career had only made her more magnetic.

Beside him walked Liam Braun, her  fiancé, a renowned actor. They moved slowly, soaking in the chaos.

Cameras flashed like lightning. Shouts erupted.

“Tate! Liam! Are the engagement rumors true?”

“New album, Tate—what’s the inspiration?”

“Tate, you’re my favorite! Love you! That jumpsuit is fire!”

Tate held Liam’s arm possessively, leaning in to whisper, “I missed this. The attention. The recognition.”

“Can we just live a normal life and forget about your revenge against your old group?” Liam asked quietly.

“Not old group—enemies. Especially Kai,” Tate muttered, anger flashing in her  eyes.

Security formed a wall, but the media swarm was relentless—hands reaching for photos, for a touch, for a moment.

Then it happened.

A fan from the crowd grabbed Liam’s sleeve.

Tate’s eyes flashed red. Without thinking, she slapped the fan’s hand away—hard—three times in quick succession.

The noise died instantly.

Liam smirked. *That’s my girl,* he thought.

They continued walking as if nothing happened, security clearing the path until they reached the exit.

Noah leaned against the black SUV, waiting.

Tate frowned deeply—she didn’t even try to hide it.

“Why didn’t Leo come himself? Why send his best friend?” Tate narrowed her  eyes.

“He’s busy,” Noah replied casually.

“Doesn’t he have time for me—his  best friend? What was I expecting from that cold, grumpy bastard,” Tate scoffed.

“That’s enough. Let’s get in,” Liam said calmly.

Tate shot him a glare that clearly said *shut up*.

“We’re famous. We don’t need my best friend’s car. Call one of your drivers,” Tate snapped.

Liam’s eyes widened. Wasn’t Tate the one who specifically asked Leonard to pick them up?

He obeyed anyway and dialed his driver.

Noah didn’t wait to be dismissed. He slid into the SUV and drove away.

“Did he just leave without us?” Tate barked.

“But you just said—”

“Shut up,” Tate cut him off.

Liam swallowed hard. He really needed to buckle up—this was the rest of his life.

Love is blind.

After a few minutes, their car arrived and they left.

CLIFFORD MANSION

Leonard stepped into the mansion and paused—amused, not shocked.

A small smirk tugged at his lips.

Lionel and Evan stood with suitcases and luggage.

“We’re leaving, Leo,” Evan said calmly. “You don’t love us anymore. We left Mom and Dad in the U.S. just to be with you, but we barely see you. We live in the same house and only catch you on TV once a week.”

Leonard kept a straight face, then looked at Lionel.

“What? Don’t stare at me—she’s right,” Lionel said, narrowing his eyes.

“You two aren’t going anywhere,” Leonard said coolly. “There are no clothes in those bags. Evan wouldn’t dare leave his crush, and you, Lionel, prefer New York guys over U.S. ones.”

“Are you spying on us?” Evan asked, bewildered.

“He’s right though,” Lionel ruffled his hair.

“I’m sorry. I’ll make more time,” Leonard promised with a forced smile.

“Your smile is weird, but thanks,” Evan said, climbing the stairs.

“I’m going out,” Lionel announced, heading for the door.

“To where?” Leonard asked.

“You’ll probably know since you’re spying,” Lionel winked and walked out.

Just as Leonard started up the stairs, he heard his name.

He stopped, a devilish smirk spreading across his face.

He turned.

As expected—Jaxon, fuming with rage.

“Leo! What the hell? I’m no longer your man—that was a one-day thing! Stop threatening me. I don’t like it,” Jaxon snapped, arms crossed.

“Should I blackmail you instead?” Leonard asked, smirk widening.

“You’re mad, Leo! I hate your face!” Jaxon yelled, nerves fraying.

“Liar,” Leonard drawled, stepping closer. “You blink when you lie. That means you like my face.”

He knows Jaxon too well.

“From now on, stop talking to me. Don’t see me. Don’t call me. Clear?” Jaxon said firmly.

“No, Short Witch. Never.” Leonard closed the distance, eyes dark with hunger.

Jaxon flinched and stumbled backward—but Leonard was faster. His hands wrapped around Jaxon’s waist—possessive, firm.

Their bodies pressed close.

Leonard’s gaze dropped to Jaxon’s lips. He smirked, then slowly released him.

“Don’t ever look at me like that again,” Jaxon snapped, voice trembling despite his bravado. “You have a boyfriend. Look at him that way.”

Leonard’s smirk deepened.

“Your boyfriend?” he repeated, voice low and dangerous. “Funny. I never agreed to that arrangement—Kai just decided it for himself. It doesn’t change how I look at you, Short Witch.”

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from Jaxon’s face—gentle, but electric.

Jaxon slapped his hand away, eyes blazing. “Stop it, Leonard! What do you want?”

Leonard chuckled darkly. “What do I want? I think you already know.”

He leaned in, voice a whisper. “That spark. That pull. You felt it too, didn’t you? You can run, but you can’t hide from what’s between us.”

Jaxon’s heart hammered. He wanted to deny it, scream, but a small, rebellious part of him knew Leonard wasn’t wrong.

For one thing,he wasn't gay,he flirt with them ,yes, but love or want to date ,No

God—he’d never felt so weak.

He glared and stormed away before things escalated further.

Leonard smirked.

The game had begun long ago—but now it was getting interesting.

WILSON MANSION – DINING AREA

Bruce sat with a disappointed look. He’d gotten Jaxon’s call—he wasn’t coming.

He was already bracing for Pinky’s taunts.

Speak of the devil.

“Yo, has Jaxon left or didn’t he show?” Pinky said with a wicked smile.

“Don’t you dare taunt me,” Bruce snapped, irritation flashing.

“Why shouldn’t I? I think I know why he keeps cancelling,” Pinky leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“What?”

“I think he saw your small dick,” Pinky laughed.

“You’re diabolical. I hate you,” Bruce glared, standing up.

“Why don’t you go to him? Aren’t you guys collaborating? God, I can’t wait,” Pinky grinned.

“Just heard Tate is back. He’s Evan’s favorite musician…” Pinky muttered to himself, an evil idea forming.

He laughed like a villain and climbed the stairs.

He pulled out his phone and texted Sab.

Pinky: Get ready. We’re ruining Evan.

Sab: Sure, babe. What’s the plan?

Pinky: It won’t be easy, but I’m doing it. We’re killing two birds with one stone.

Sab: Who’s the second bird?

Pinky: Tate.

CELEBRITY TALK SHOW – KAI’S INTERVIEW

Bright studio lights flooded the stage as the audience cheered.

The host beamed. “Ladies and gentlemen—put your hands together for the one and only… KAI!”

Kai walked out in a sleek outfit, waving with his signature smile. He took his seat, crossing his legs.

“So,” the host leaned in, “the world can’t stop talking about you. New album, sold-out shows, and—” dramatic pause “—your love life.”

The audience oohed.

Kai chuckled. “I knew that was coming.”

“Fans are convinced there’s someone special,” the host pressed. “Care to confirm or deny?”

Kai tilted his head. “Let’s just say… my heart is inspired lately.”

The crowd oohed louder.

“By who, if I may ask?” the host teased.

Kai smiled. “By Leonard Clifford. He’s the love of my life. I love Leonard, and he’s my boyfriend.”

The audience gasped. Even the host looked stunned.

PINKPOP MANSION – JAXON’S ROOM

Jaxon stormed into his room, annoyance flashing in his eyes. He angrily tossed his bag on the bed.

He wasn’t mad at Leonard—he was mad at himself.

He’d been weak in front of him. Helpless.

He kicked off his shoes and stripped, movements sharp, as if peeling Leonard’s touch from his skin. But even naked, even alone, he could still feel him—his voice, his eyes, that maddening smirk.

With a frustrated huff, Jaxon headed to the shower. Steam filled the bathroom as hot water poured down.

He braced his hands against the tile, letting the water rush over him.

The water was still running when his phone rang.

He ignored it at first—hoping it would stop.

It rang again. Persistent. Deliberate. Like the man himself.

Slowly, Jaxon reached for it, water dripping from his fingers.

LEONARD CALLING.

His chest tightened.

“Of course,” he whispered bitterly.

He answered.

“Why are you calling me?” Jaxon snapped.

Leonard chuckled—low, dark, rich.

“If you keep thinking about me, like that , little witch,you would get so hard,it hurt and I won't be there to wrap my hand around ur dick and make u feel better.”

TO BE CONTINUED...