The Chosen One (17 page)

Slowly, my mouth descended. It was greeted with a pungent slickness that made my clit throb. Her intoxicating smell, the urgent gyration of her hips coaxed my tongue to the magic spot. The first flicker of my tongue against her clit elicited the most satisfying groan to ever reach my ears. I continued on with passion, her convulsions matching my enthusiasm.

“Oh, Ainsley… Oh. My. God.”

She bolted upright, clutching my head with both of her hands. I wanted so badly to see her face, but I didn’t want to quell my efforts either. I sucked her engorged clit into my mouth, and Maya let out a scream, her body trembling before she collapsed back onto the bed, out of breath.

Sensing she was satiated for the moment, I crawled up next to her and rested my face on her breast. She pulled me closer with an arm, craning her neck to kiss the top of my head.

I had found my way, finally, to Maya.

Chapter Thirteen

Early the following morning, I sat in my car, waiting for a red light. Half-asleep, I rubbed my jaw, noting that my fingers still smelled of Maya, which prompted a satisfied smile. It was like I was able to take a little part of her with me. I let them linger near my nose and continued to inhale. I closed my eyes, remembering being inside her, taking her clit into my mouth. Her moans. The gyration of her hips. Maya’s arched back. Her convulsions.

And then her fingers inside me, her tongue tasting and exploring my body, my sex.

A car horn blared, jolting me back to the present.

“Hold your horses,” I grumbled, waving to apologize to the impatient motorist.

It was a little after five, and everyone around me was in a rush while I was in a daze, a splendid, morning-after fog I hoped would never lift.

Fiona was already outside her building, stretching in preparation for our run. We exercised together several times a week. When she saw me get out of the car, wearing the dress I’d been in the previous night, a knowing smile spread over her face, but she didn’t say anything except, “Grab a pair of shorts and a shirt. I think there’s a pair of your Nikes in the hall closet.”

Inside, Pat’s snores shook the walls. How in the world did she sleep with that racket?

In the bathroom, I changed quickly, and even though I didn’t want to, washed my face and hands. Maya’s scent slipped down the drain, but the memories remained. Hopefully, we’d make more in the near future.

Fiona gave me a couple of minutes to stretch before loping toward the river. Her long-legged stride reminded me of the impalas I’d seen in Botswana several years back while traveling with Fiona and her mom for Fee’s eighteenth birthday. Grace, elegance, and beauty. I usually felt like a warthog next to her, with my stubby, uncoordinated legs.

Not this morning, though. This morning I brimmed with confidence.

My cousin took pity on me, so we only ran four miles rather than our typical six. I suppose she guessed I’d been up most of the night.

When we entered Fiona’s kitchen, Pat was standing in front of the fridge, a towel wrapped around his waist as he guzzled OJ right from the container.

“Good morning, ladies. How was your night, Ainsley?” He winked.

“What?” I muttered.

“I noticed your dress from last night hanging in the bathroom.” A grin flashed across his face before he left the room.

“For someone doing the walk of shame this morning, you don’t look humiliated,” Fiona said, and her smugness made me laugh.

She handed me bottled water. “So, do we need to have the lesbian sex talk? Dental dams? Proper cleaning of dildos?” She said it with a straight face, but the energy she expended to keep her excitement in check was practically pooling around her feet.

“I think I’m good,” I replied.

“One roll in the hay, and you already think you’re God’s gift to women,” she teased. “How’d you leave it this morning?” She leaned over to search for food in the fridge, plucking two apples from the back and tossing me one.

“She was sound asleep, so I left a note.”

Fiona stopped mid-bite. “That was bold.” The uncertainty in her eyes suggested she thought it was a mistake.

“W-what?” I stumbled over the word, and my stomach somersaulted three times. “Do you think I blew it?”

Her expression softened. “Time will tell.”

That didn’t put me at ease. Not at all!

I pulled her arm. “Be serious. How can I fix this?”

“First, don’t panic. We don’t even know whether there’s reason to panic. Most women don’t like waking up to a note, but then again, Maya isn’t most women. You have that going for you. Second, it’s not the first blip you two have experienced‌—‌if it was a blip, and I’m not saying it was.” She hitched up one shoulder.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” I waved my arms around like a baby bird trying to get liftoff. “What have I done? She was a virgin… and I just left.”

“You must really like her. Usually, you don’t overreact,” Fiona said with a grin.

A snapping sound behind me made me jump, and I wheeled about to find Pat holding a banana that was more green than yellow. He hated bananas that had turned completely yellow.

“I never thought you’d be a love ’em and leave ’em type of gal.” He yanked the peel back and bit into the firm flesh. “I suggest you watch more rom-coms and not so many episodes of
Scandal, House of Cards,
and
Veep
. You’d learn a lot about wooing a lady. Rule one: never deflower someone you care about and then bolt at first light.” He walked over to Fiona, gave her a peck on the cheek, and said, “Gotta go. Shift at the hospital.”

“What do you think?” I asked Fiona.

“He may be on to something. I know gushy films aren’t our thing, but it might help. Although
Scandal
revolves around the Olivia and Fitz relationship, I’m not sure it’s helping your romantic side flourish, considering.” She had one arm over her head, leaning to the side to stretch her back.

I groaned. “Not that. What should I do now?”

“I suggest you go home, put on one of your cutest outfits, and get to class to assess the damage. Bring her a coffee or something. No wait, you make shitty coffee. Go to her shop and pick up coffee there. Have you baked any banana bread lately? You make killer banana bread.” She looked around the kitchen in search of a loaf.

“You expect me to win her over with banana bread?” I was beyond exasperated. An hour ago I’d been over the moon. Now I visualized sitting on a meteor plummeting back to Earth.

“It couldn’t hurt.” Fee shrugged.

“Do I have time?” It was 6:30 a.m. I groaned again. “Shit, I don’t.” I grabbed my car keys off the kitchen counter. “Bye!”

***

I hurdled over a random cardboard box that had been carelessly left in the corridor as I ran to the lecture room, Maya’s coffee in one hand and my cell phone in the other. I was hoping she’d call or text, even though I suspected she didn’t have a phone. Miraculously, I didn’t spill a drop. But I had bigger worries.

Who in today’s world didn’t have a cell phone?
People who didn’t want to be found
. I pushed that thought out of my head and prayed for a miracle.

Sliding into my usual seat, I noticed I was one of the first to arrive. The wall clock read 7:40 a.m. Twenty minutes should give me enough time to calm my heart, which at the moment was revving like a race car at the start of the Indy 500.

Three minutes ticked by‌—‌I’d been incessantly checking my cell phone and the wall clock for confirmation. My phone buzzed, causing me to nearly jump out of my seat and upset Maya’s coffee, but it was only a text from Fiona. It contained a question mark, nothing else. I ignored her.

“Hello, stranger.” Maya’s silky voice reached me before I had a chance to whip my head around and gauge her mood: sexual afterglow or scorned woman?

I bolted out of my seat, her cup of coffee in my hand. “I got you this.” My voice was too loud and shaky.

Right at that moment, two guys bounded in, one pretending to fade back and shoot an imaginary basketball. “Yes, two points!” he shouted, accidentally bumping into Maya, who, in turn, smashed her hip into me. The plastic lid on the to-go cup shot off, and before I could do anything, I was dripping with hot liquid. Again!

“Oh, no.” The guy looked sincere. “I’m so sorry.” He reached into his backpack and retrieved some loose paper in an attempt to clean me up. Focusing on my Diane von Furstenberg spotted silk blouse, which was now practically see-through, he rubbed notebook paper over my drenched breasts.

“Got it!” Susie Q stood with her phone in hand. “A little early for a wet T-shirt contest, doncha think?” Her malicious wink made me groan. How was it she always popped up at the most inopportune times?

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” I stepped back, and the guy’s friend burst into laughter at my reaction to his buddy pawing my breasts.

The boy turned cherry red. “Uh, I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry.” He rushed to his seat, mortified.

Dr. Gingas arrived, appraised my drowned rat appearance, shook her head, and launched straight into her lecture.

Maya scrambled to get her notebook out, and I sat down in a huff, pulling the
Boston Globe
out of my bag and placing it over the coffee spill, my foot firmly on top to soak up the dregs and hopefully dilute the fumes. I slipped on a thin sweater to hide my nipples.

Maya eyed me sidelong and gave me an encouraging smile, which settled me some. Our knees bumped, and neither one of us pulled away.

Halfway through the lecture, I started to shiver. My shirt still wasn’t dry, and the thin sweater offered little warmth.

Maya reached into her backpack and pulled out a gray sweatshirt. “Here,” she whispered.

Surely that was a sign she wasn’t upset about this morning.

If I wasn’t already the class clown and if Genghis didn’t scare the bejeezus out of me, I would have shot out of my seat and bellowed, “She likes me. She really likes me!” Instead, I communicated my thanks by squeezing her arm. Maya dipped her head.

Eventually the continual scratch of her pen calmed me, and I was able to concentrate on the lecture.

When it was over, Maya stopped writing as soon as Dr. Gingas marched out of the room. “Cup of coffee?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever drink another cup of coffee again. How humiliating. And here I was trying to…”

She raised a finger. Susie Q approached, snapping more photos.

“Let’s go outside,” I said.

With a knowing smile, Maya led me out of the building. I put my arms out and turned my face to the sun. “Oh, that’s better.”

Maya had her arms crossed, but the cocky look in her eyes gave her away. “So what were you trying to do?”

I sighed. “What? Oh, with the coffee? I felt like an ass, just leaving this morning, and I wanted to tell you I was sorry.”

Maya scratched the side of her head with her pen. “But I got your note.”

I wanted to throttle both Fiona and Pat. All the worry for naught, and now I’d be headlining another Susie Q’s
Tattler
. What headline would she feature? I was sure wet T-shirt contest would be part of it. Bottlenose loved to shoot from the hip.

“I really enjoyed last night as well,” Maya said, referring to a comment I’d made in the note. “Now, let’s get some coffee. I need some. I slept through my alarm this morning, for some weird reason, and I nearly missed class.”

“Oh, really. Any reason in particular why you were dead to the world?” I nudged her arm with an elbow.

“Nope.” She spun around on her heel, like a soldier. I tugged her hand, and together we walked to the student union. Glancing at me coyly out of the corner of her eye, she added, “Maybe there was a reason.”

“Hopefully a good reason.”

“A fantastic reason.”

I looped my arm through hers. “Are you free tonight?” I asked, bursting to make more memories.

“Nope.” Her tone suggested I couldn’t talk her out of the commitment.

“Doing what?” I tried to sound casual, even though my confidence was crashing down to somewhere near the equator.

“Work and then studying.”

“Oh.” I hated the obvious disappointment in my response.

“What time should we meet?”

I stopped mid-stride. “What?”

Did she mean she wanted me to pop over for a booty call? A roll in the hay? Oddly, I wasn’t insulted. Fee would be so proud.

Maya waved off my indignation. “We made plans to work on our project tonight, remember?” She rested her hand on my shoulder. “I finish work at eight.”

“Oh, that!” I almost face-palmed but was able to curb the impulse. Knowing me, I’d give myself a black eye. “I’d forgotten. My place or yours?” I arched one eyebrow, hoping I looked devious and sensual but fearing it made me look comical.

“Yours.” She pulled me behind a strategically placed column, and before I knew it, she was kissing me‌—‌deeply. Desire rushed through me, my pussy practically flooding my pants.

Maya stepped back, grinning. “I’ve been wanting to do that all morning.”

***

“How did you spill coffee
again
?” Pat was trying to sound supportive, but his smirk wasn’t helping his cause. He reached into the fridge and pulled out a bag of tomatoes.

“Oh, please. If Ainsley becomes president, she’ll be the first to spill coffee on the red launch button and start World War III.” Fiona squashed a clove of garlic with the flat side of a knife. She was concocting her famous “from scratch” spaghetti sauce.

She reached for another clove, but I stopped her. “Fiona! Not too much, okay?”

She eyeballed me over her shoulder. “Expecting some action tonight. I thought the plan was to work on your group project.”

“Group project. Is that code for orgy?” Pat elbowed me in the side.

I rolled my eyes. “We can’t study
all
night.” I shrugged.

“Garlic is good for you,” Pat teased.

“Thanks, Dr. Pat! But it’s not good for my breath, and I really want to kiss her again. When she kissed me this morning…” Words failed me. I melted against the countertop, both hands on my heart. How could I describe what I was feeling? Love? Passion? Desire? I didn’t know how to define the emotion, but whatever it was, I liked it. I liked it a lot.