Better Off Red (27 page)

“No! I mean I’m not that shallow. I just—”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. Don’t worry. Your brother’s not exactly my type.”

“Is it the fully human part or the penis you don’t agree with?”

I jumped as she suddenly kicked the coffee table out of the way. It skidded across the carpet, stopping right in front of the TV.

Somehow my book and my phone stayed put, right on the dark wood surface, but I had no time to marvel over that work of physics.

Camila picked me up and spun me around in the same swing of her arms. Before I could blink, I was facing her, straddling her lap. I wanted to argue, but it was useless. She pulled my tank over my head. My bra wasn’t far behind.

“He’s not you, baby,” she said lightly. She took my nipple in her mouth, stroking the very tip with her tongue and her fang. I was done. My body was hers.

“I’m never going to get this reading done,” I said, fighting back a moan.

“Yes, you are.” She nipped at my other breast, torturing me some more. “Just not right now.”

A shred of determination lingered, but that didn’t stop me from settling myself against her stomach and twisting my fingers through the soft, short hair at the back of her head. I looked down, watching her tongue slide back and forth over my tight nipple.

“No,” I pretended to protest. “Stop. Stop. Please. No. No. My homework. No…” She bit down gently and my head rolled back on my shoulders. I let out a shameless groan. “Don’t stop at all. Oh God. That feels so good.”

Her scent washed up between us as she breathed against my skin. Such an ass. She knew she had all the control. She knew the moment my resolve turned to crap. I had to do something about that.

“Actually. Wait.”

Camila gazed up at me wide-eyed. My nipple was still in her mouth.

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“I want to make you come,” I said quickly.

She released my nipple and her grip on my waist and leaned back against the couch. I glanced at the smooth skin of her shoulder as she stretched her arms out along the cushions, all cool and calm.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” Sure, I had made her come at the hotel, but for some reason, that felt different. She was already keyed up and we’d already had sex twice at that point. It was my turn to initiate something.

Even if it was five minutes after she initiated something first.

“Well, Red.” She started to move so I climbed off her lap and watched her stand. She pulled off her tank top and the small red track shorts she had on. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, but she ditched her underwear just as quickly before stretching out on the floor. She crossed her hands behind her head and peered up at me like she wasn’t butt naked with the figure of a sixties pinup girl.

Her small waist and enormous breasts with large tips taunting my intentions.

“Have at me,” she said playfully.

I stood next to the couch, fiddling with my hands. Camila just lay there patiently waiting for me to back up my bravado. She shifted a little and crossed her ankles. The simple motion made her thighs look even fuller. I had to get in there.

“Do you want a pillow or something?” I asked, mentally slapping myself for sounding lame.

Her mouth twitched, fighting a smile. “No, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

I waited a moment, thinking of the best way to approach the situation until my crotch reminded my brain that there was a naked woman lying on the floor waiting for me to get on with it.

“Okay.” I sounded ridiculously determined. I got on my knees beside her and crawled over her body. Now I knew I was being ridiculous. I bit my lip, trying not to crack up. “Don’t move.”

“I’ll try not to.” Camila snorted, grimacing to keep her reaction under control.

“Don’t laugh.” My own snort crippled my demand.

“You’re laughing.”

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“Because you’re laughing. Okay, seriously.” I sat up with a deep breath, letting my butt settle on her hips, and fixed a stern expression on my face. Then I collapsed to the floor with my hands beside her shoulders and glared at her. She glared back, but the gold in her eyes still twinkled. “This is serious. I’m sexy and you’re turned on. And I’m about to give you the best orgasm of your life. Don’t you dare laugh.”

She licked her fangs, eyeing my mouth while she spoke. “Come here, Red.” Giving up control, again, I leaned forward until our lips met. “Give me your hand,” she whispered softly. She took my fingers and guided them between our bellies, then between her legs.

I gasped the moment my hand brushed against her spread slit. She was so wet and hot.

Camila held my fingers as we teased her clit together for a few moments, gently toying with the length and the tip. She sighed a little and closed her eyes, but her interest in the external play didn’t seem to last very long.

Camila moved my index finger to the opening of her pussy. She arched her back slightly and let her thighs open wider.

“Now. Fuck me.”

She let go and let me gently trace the most delicate bit of her skin, coating my fingers in her wetness. She watched me, breathing steadily, patiently. I appreciated that. I was talking a big game, but I did want to know her more, without the dim lights and the music or the ice cream hangover. We might have been at her place, but I needed to know this part of her on my level of the playing field.

The Patriots mocked me by scoring again. I glanced at the TV

then back at Camila.

She reached up and brushed her thumb across my cheek. “I love you.” The focus in her eyes told me she meant it. Pushing two fingers deep inside her was my reply.

She inhaled deeply and settled into the carpet, closing her eyes as she let the breath out.

I moved slowly, like she had done to me, using more pressure than speed, brushing her clit with the heel of my hand, pressing up into her inner walls. I loved the way she felt, tight and hot, her slick

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muscles clenching around my fingers. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips over her dark nipple. She let out the sexiest sound, partway between a whimper and a desperate purr, so I did it again, adding my tongue to the mix, dragging it around and around the tiny ripples of skin and the hard tip. She began touching me back, dragging her fingers up and down my arm, then stroking lower to my ribs.

I added more pressure. And another finger.

Camila’s short nails bit into the skin on my side. “Ginger…”

she moaned.

“Does that feel good?” I asked, thrusting deeper.

“Yes.”

“Seriously?” I couldn’t hide my shock.

“Yes. Just like that. Fuck.”

I latched my mouth back onto her nipple. I peered up at her as I suckled, mesmerized by the sound of her body. It was an addictive sound, an arousing sound. Her hips rose off the floor and I realized my hand had stopped moving.

“Oh. Sorry.” I frowned and started my fingers working again. I did my best to ignore the way my body was reacting to her, the way my brain seemed to want to capture every detail of the moment and focused on giving her all the pleasure I could, with my hands and my mouth. It was like rubbing my stomach and patting myself at the same time. I knew I looked like an idiot doing it, and in this case, sounded like an idiot too, but if I focused hard enough, I always got the hang of it.

After a while, my fingers and my wrist started to get tired. The muscle in my forearm was starting to twitch. Camila liked it hard and deep, harder than I’d ever fucked myself, but I refused to give up. She had made me come so hard, with and without her bite, and I wanted to do the same for her.

Camila came without warning, growling and arching on the floor. She turned her head sharply, calling my name, and that’s when I felt it.

I looked between her legs, making sure I kept up with the motions of my hand until she was completely finished. Come was leaking out of her bare pussy onto the rug. I swallowed thickly and

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fought the urge to replace my hand with mouth. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

She sat up and gathered me in her arms, like I needed a few moments to recover. I stroked her back and her hair and softly kissed her cheeks and her forehead. She exhaled and held me tighter.

“It was pretty amazing, wasn’t it,” I said.

“Best orgasm I’ve ever had,” she replied with a kiss to my neck.

“Yeah, right.” My tone was bitchier than I intended, but I couldn’t fight the tightness in my chest. I had decades of lovers to compete with. I shuffled off her lap and reached for my bra.

And I was flat on my back before I could get the strap around my arm. Camila ripped the bra from my hand and tore my sweats off my legs. When my lungs snapped back into action, she was on top of me, her hips pressing my body into the floor.

“I’m being honest with you,” she grumbled fiercely. “It’s very easy to fuck someone, but no one has ever made love to me before.

Not before you.”

“Really?” You are not going to cry. You are not going to cry.

Camila rolled her eyes then kissed me. “You drive me crazy, Red. I hope you know that.”

“Good. I love you. And since you’re already on top of me…”

Her fingers sliding into my pussy was her reply.

❖

I swear Amy had set up a pup tent outside the elevator. I saw her out in the kitchen the moment the door slid open. The very second my big toe hit the landing in the pantry, she came bolting into the small space, screeching my name, ready to take me down for a thorough debriefing. She came up short the moment she saw Camila beside me.

“Oh. Hi.” Her lips quivered as she tried to hold in a giggle of embarrassment.

“Hello, Amy. It’s nice to see you too,” Camila replied.

Her tone was suddenly formal. It made me happy to think that even though she was perfectly comfortable joking around with the

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girls, hanging out with them casually, she only seemed to relax with me. Amy wouldn’t have known there was a difference, and I was okay letting that be the case.

Either way, Camila’s tone and sudden appearance on the first floor of the house didn’t stop Amy from flapping her gums. It just slowed her a little bit.

“Are you going to come bake with us?” Amy asked her. Camila took my hand and led me out of the elevator.

“As a matter of fact, I am. I’ve been neglecting you girls a little,” she said.

“Oh, I fully blame Ginger for that.” Amy grinned, the total suck up she was.

“I didn’t miss you at all.” I scowled back at her.

“Yes, you did. You love me,” Amy replied, lacing her arm through mine on the other side as we walked into the kitchen.

Thanks to Camila and her amazing mouth and fingers and teeth, I had missed dinner, but at nine, my presence was required in the ABO kitchen. All of us new girls had several hundred cookies, brownies, and other miscellaneous treats to prepare for our Types of Hope bake sale. I barely finished my homework in time to slip back into some clothes and head upstairs. I’d every intention of sneaking a few baked goods.

When we stepped into the kitchen I saw that all of the new girls were there, except Anna-Jade, Benny, and Ruth. Cleo and Danni were missing too. I was surprised to see Paige and Samantha helping Florencia clean up the remains of an enormous meal.

Apparently, we’d missed a formal Sunday dinner. They covered the last few dishes and slid them into the Sub-Zero while Gwen and Kyle helped Kate and Jordan set out enough sugar, flour, and eggs to make cookies and cupcakes for the whole university.

Amy followed Camila and me as we took up post near the fridge, trying to stay out of the way until Kate and Jordan had delegated baking duties. As our community outreach chairs, it was up to them to decide who got to do the fun work like decorating and who had to sit outside the cafeteria selling the goods.

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Camila settled against the counter and pulled me between her legs. I let out a contented sigh, trying to ignore Amy. She was practically vibrating, just dying to get some dirt out of me. She knew better than to ask how good the sex was right in front of Camila. Or so I thought.

She leaned toward us and lowered her voice in a crappy attempt to be subtle, but the dramatics of talking out of the side of her mouth caught Laura’s and Paige’s attention. And Samantha’s. I glared back at Samantha. She took the hint to mind her own business and looked away.“I do have one question for you,” Amy muttered to Camila.

“What would that be?” I could feel Camila’s breath against my neck.“Did you like her outfit?” Amy asked.

“Yes, Amy, I did.” Camila laughed.

“Did you like what she had on underneath it?”

My head snapped in Amy’s direction. “Amy. Jesus.” Camila continued to take her prodding graciously, even though Amy deserved a good smack.

“I did, Amy. Thank you,” Camila replied.

I had to get Amy to shut up. Asking where Cleo, Danni, and Benny were seemed like the perfect subject to use as a diversion.

“Hey—” I started. Just then Florencia appeared in front of me with a covered plate of food. My name was written on the cellophane.

“Oh. Thank you,” I said, not bothering to hide my shock.

“It’s still warm, but I would heat it up,” she said. Florencia’s voice, with its full accent, was so warm and inviting. It was hard to believe she was as unfriendly as Cleo had made her out to be.

Camila took the plate from her with another gracious thank you, then stepped around me to slide the plate in the microwave. Her duties as occasional mother complete, Florencia slipped out of the room into the living room. Listening to Cleo hadn’t exactly paid off in every department. As I watched her stocky form disappear through the swinging door, I made a mental note to try to have a conversation with Florencia sometime soon.

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I retrieved my reheated food, and Camila and I plopped down at the table while Kate and Jordan divvied out tasks. Amy swore up and down she had the most amazing sugar cookie recipe so Jordan put her on the baking squad with Samantha, Laura, and Gwen, who all made similar claims. My baking skills were on par, but I was too busy wolfing down Florencia’s cornbread and mashed potatoes to volunteer for the most urgent job.