Baumgartner Generations: Henry (22 page)

“Your
roommate is in big trouble,” Val hissed. “Marcus isn’t waiting for his money.
They’re coming for him tonight.”

Henry sat up
straight. “Tonight?”

Libby
watched, eyes wide, as Val continued to whisper her warning.

“You need to
get him out of there. Now.”

He opened
his mouth to reply, but she was already whispering, “I’ve got to go.”

“Are you
safe?” Henry asked.

Val hissed,
“Bye,” and hung up.

Henry
flipped his phone closed, telling Libby, “The bookies are sending their
henchmen after Dean. Tonight.”

“Who was
that?” she asked.

“Marcus’s
girlfriend.”

“He’s the
ringleader,” Libby exclaimed and he glanced at her. Just how much did she know?
She was looking at him speculatively. “How do you know Val?”

He flushed. “It’s
a long story.”

Libby let it
go. “Where is Dean now?”

“Study
group.” Henry snorted. “That’s what he calls it anyway. He’ll be back at our
room by… seven?”

Libby’s eyes
were bright with something. Fear? Excitement? “I think I have a plan.”

Chapter
Nine

“This will
be perfect.” Libby popped a mini-tape into Henry’s recorder, snapping it closed
and clicking
record.

He stood at
his desk, arms crossed. “I’m not letting you do this.”

“Don’t be a
sexist pig.” Libby stuck her tongue out, hitting rewind and then play. Their
voices came out of the little machine, sounding tinny but clear enough.

“I should be
the one,” Henry insisted. “He already told me. It would be easy for me to get
him to talk about it.”

“We’ve been
over this!” Libby rewound the tape to the beginning again, leaving the recorder
on the bed. “If it’s you on that tape, and the NCAA comes in to investigate, it
could jeopardize your hockey scholarship.”

“But—”

Libby hopped
off the bed, shaking her finger at him. “Listen to me. I’ve already lost
everything. I gave up my job at the paper. I have nothing left to lose.” She
stopped as she got close to him and saw the fierce expression on his face. “Well,
almost nothing…”

“I’m not
leaving you alone with him.” Henry’s jaw was working just thinking about it.
This was insane. It was beyond insane. It was downright dangerous. “No way. Not
after what happened to Elaine.”

Libby glared
at him. “You don’t have any choice.”

“I’ll hide
under the bed.” He couldn’t leave her alone in this room with Dean. He
wouldn’t.

She laughed.
“You’re crazy.”

“It will
work,” he insisted, going over and picking up the recorder. “And you don’t have
to worry about working this. I’ll do it.”

“You’re
awful big,” Libby said speculatively, but she actually seemed relieved at the
thought of him being in the room. She dropped to her knees, lifting his Hudson
Bay blanket. “Is there room under your bed?”

Henry
flushed when she pulled a box out. “Hey, what’s this?” Before he had a chance
to shove it back under, she’d flipped it open and her jaw dropped. “Well….that’s
a lot of porn.” She winked at him. “And you said you’d never read the
Kama
Sutra
?”

Henry
sighed. “You know that long story I didn’t tell you earlier?”

Libby just studied
him with raised eyebrows, so he took a deep breath and told her—about pledging
at the fraternity, about the Fleshlight and Val.

“So that’s
what they did this year,” Libby mused, taking the cap off the Fleshlight and
staring at it. “They had a competition last year too…”

What sort of
competition had they had last year—involving prostitutes? He wanted to ask, but
he was almost afraid to.

“And you
won?” Libby murmured, using her index finger to prod the Fleshlight, as if she
could bring it to life. Seeing Val holding it had been hot, but seeing Libby
with it just felt…weird.

“Do you like
using it?” She was half-smiling, amused.

He shrugged.
“What’s not to like?”

“And that
girl who called you…” Libby put the cap back on the Fleshlight and dropped it
into the box. “That was the girl?”

“We’re just
friends.” He made sure to make that point.

“Friends
huh?” Libby arched her eyebrow. “Friends with benefits?”

“No.” He
watched her shut the box and shove it back under the bed. “She’s a sweet girl
and all, but…”

“But…what?”
Curious, she crawled up onto the bed to sit next to him and he remembered
bringing her back here after the football game, months ago now, how they’d
spent hours listening to music and talking. He’d never felt anything like it
before, that feeling of being with her, just being. It was intoxicating.
Addictive.

“But she’s
not you,” he finished.

“Oh, Henry.”
Libby leaned her red head against his arm. “I wish I didn’t like you so damned
much.”

His mouth
felt dry. “Do you really?”

“What?” She
lifted her head and gazed up at him.

“Do you
really like me?”

Her eyes
softened and she reached a hand out, linking her fingers with his. “Did you
ever doubt it?”

He shrugged,
swallowed, couldn’t speak. He’d thought nothing could be more important to him
than doing what he loved, being on the ice—pursuing that dream and whatever
made it possible was all that would ever matter to him—but he was wrong.

This girl
made everything else in his life seem small in comparison.

Libby knelt
up on the bed beside him, taking his face in her soft little hands. “Yes,” she
said, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Yes, Henry.” She kissed his other cheek,
her mouth impossibly soft. “Yes and yes and yes,” she whispered, the words
muffled and lost in their kiss.

Henry felt
it happening and knew it wasn’t the best timing in the world, but neither of
them could stop it. It was as if their kiss had kindled something deeply buried
in them that gave them both a heady fever.

Her mouth
was soft, but demanding, asking more of him, and he gave it to her, pressing
her back onto his bed. She welcomed him, her slender jean-clad thighs
squeezing, arms wrapped around his neck.

Then she
broke the kiss, struggling with her hoodie and he helped her, groaning when he
saw her in just her bra and jeans, her red hair fanned out under her. Henry
took his shirt off too, and her eyes brightened as she explored his skin with
her long, delicate fingers, tracing the dark line of hair down from his navel
to the button of his jeans.

She undid
the button, then the zipper, tugging at his jeans, and Henry hopped off the
bed, shoving them down his hips as he watched her do her own, wiggling out of
them and tossing them with his on the floor. Now she was just wearing a white
bra and panties and little pick socks.

“Come keep
me warm.” She shivered, reaching her hand out for him, and he joined her on the
bed again, the two of them kissing and rolling around, fumbling, moaning,
exploring. He discovered she really liked her neck kissed and licked—she made
soft kitten-like sounds when he did that, her hips bucking under his.

He tried to
take his time, but he was so eager for her that her bra was undone and her
panties gone before he could even savor the sight of her body with them on. Her
nipples were a pale, puffy pink, so very tiny under his tongue. Her breasts
were little handfuls that practically melted into the flesh of her chest when
she lay down, giving her a more boy-like appearance—yet everything about her
was all-girl, from the beyond-soft silk of her skin to the tender cries of
pleasure he extracted from her slender throat.

When his
tonguing exploration reached the dip of her navel, his cock throbbed as if he’d
found the promise land. Her belly was soft and pale and taut and he kissed his
way down to the curly edge of her pubic hair. She whimpered in anticipation,
her hand moving in his hair, waiting for him to part her red sea and drink her
soothing waters. As soon as he tasted her, he was addicted, her clit a tiny,
hidden treasure, the pink folds of her pussy a traceable map.

“Oh Henry…”
She sighed as she came, so very pretty, her eyelids fluttering closed, her hips
moving. He could fit her whole ass in the span of his hands and he did, lifting
her to his mouth to drink her all up.

“Kiss me,”
she begged him, sucking the taste of her own pussy off his tongue. He didn’t
think his cock could get any harder, but then she was tugging his boxers off
and stroking it against the skin of her inner thigh as they kissed.

“Ohhh, I
want you inside me so bad.” She opened her eyes, still breathing hard. “Do you
have anything?”

He didn’t
want to leave her, but he managed to just sit up, letting her keep her delicious
vice-grip on his cock, and lean over to open his night table drawer. He grabbed
a huge handful of condoms from the pile, at least a dozen and threw them up
into the air, letting them rain down like confetti.

“Atta boy!”
Libby laughed, grabbing one and tearing it open with her teeth. The laughter
stopped, though, when she rolled the condom over the swollen head of his cock
with her thumbs and welcomed him back into her waiting arms.

Henry nudged
against her as they continued to kiss and cuddle, his cock seeking entrance but
not finding the right angle. Finally, Libby reached between them, sliding the
head of his cock down through her swollen slit, positioning him, just right.

“There.” She
whispered the words into his ear. “Now.”

He shifted
his hips slowly forward, feeling her flesh give, but just a little. He pushed
in deeper, her thighs silky and opening under his, feeling the snug hollow of
her little hole opening too. Her pussy was wet from his tongue, wet from her
orgasm, but she was still so tight!
Thank god for condoms
, he thought. At
least it helped lessen the sensation—a little. She whimpered, her breath in his
ear, when he was finally as deep as he could go.

“You okay?”
he panted.

“Fuck yes,”
she moaned, rolling her hips, moving his cock around deep in her cunt, making
him groan and start alphabetizing states in his head. “Hey,” she said, kissing
his jaw, his cheek, his chin. “Don’t stop now. Come on. Let’s go for a ride.”

“Let the
motor calm down a bit,” he panted. “Otherwise we’re gonna overheat.”

Libby ran
her fingernails lightly over his back, his shoulders, and they waited,
breathing together, Henry’s face buried in the sweet-smelling mass of her hair,
until he had some bit of control again.

“Now?” she
whispered, her hips shifting, her pussy clenching. “Please?”

This girl
was going to be the death of him, he decided, gritting his teeth and beginning
to move. There was nothing soft and yet tight enough to describe the sensation
of her flesh, the way she felt enveloping his cock. There was no silicone that
could match it, and no other woman or girl he’d ever met, either. It was beyond
pleasure, beyond good. It was perfection.

“Henry!”
Libby moaned, and he felt her hand moving between them, touching her clit,
working to get herself off. “Please! Oh god your cock feels so good!”

“Honey, I
can’t do this very long,” he apologized, holding back, every muscle strained,
as her pussy began to flutter and pulse. “Libby, baby, I can’t—”

“Come!” she
cried, her back arching, her long legs wrapped around his waist, driving his
length deep into her waiting cunt. He couldn’t have stopped then if he wanted
to, the explosion through his body beyond fire—it was nuclear. He saw flashes
of light behind his eyes, the red heat consuming him completely as he buried
his face in Libby’s hair, and gave himself over to pure sensation.

“Oh my god,”
she whispered, kissing him over and over as they rolled on the bed, condoms
sticking to them. “I’ve wanted that for so long.”

“Me, too,”
he breathed as they finally slowed and Henry curled beside her, his cheek
resting on her tiny breasts.

He didn’t
know where it came from, why he said it. Like the climactic explosion they’d shared,
it just welled up in him and spilled over.

“Libby, I
can’t read.”

And then it
was all flooding in, a dam bursting.

He told her
about tutoring. He told her about Toni. He talked and talked and Libby
listened, silent. When he finally stopped, spent, he found himself filled with
a cold fear. Would she pity him? Hate him? Walk out of his life forever this
time? He cursed himself for ever opening his mouth when he lifted his head and
looked at her closed eyes, tears slipping down into her temples.

“I’m sorry,”
he choked. “You must hate me.”

“Henry, I
don’t hate you.” She finally turned toward him, opening her wet eyes and
cupping his face in her hands. “I luh—” She pursed her lips, blinking, holding
back, and then kissed the tip of his nose. “I like you.”

He smiled. “I
like you, too.”

“Uh-oh, we
missed one.” She reached over and peeled a condom off his hip, holding it up.
Then she tore the wrapper off with her teeth. “Oops, it’s open! Shouldn’t let
these go to waste.”

“No,” he
agreed, finding himself back in her welcoming arms. “We definitely shouldn’t.”

His cock was
already getting hard again.

*
* * *

“Whoa. Hey.
Libby?” Dean stopped in the doorway—even from under the bed, Henry heard the
surprise in his voice and wondered if this was going to work at all. How was
Libby going to explain how she’d gotten in?

“Hey, Dean.”
Libby’s voice was low, sexy. Henry bristled at the sound of his roommate’s name
in her mouth, said that way.

“Where’s…Henry?”
Dean took a few tentative steps into the room. Henry could see his shoes. He
was clearly trying to put the pieces together.

“He left,”
Libby said.

Dean sounded
incredulous. “He left you here?” Henry heard the door close.