Black Number Four (18 page)

Her breaths are heavy, the steam in my bathroom swirling around us as I wait for her to answer. Impatient, I let my fingers drop a little lower, biting my lip when I feel how wet she is.

“Tell me to stop, Skyler.”

She’s shaking now, but she still stares at me with her baby blues, unwavering. Finally, she speaks softly, almost a whisper.

“I can’t.”

I shake my head. “You have to tell me to stop, Skyler, or I won’t be able to. Once I feel you, once I taste you, I won’t be able to stop then. If you don’t want this, you have to tell me now.”

Skyler lets out a long, shaky breath, trying to steady her voice. “I want this,” she says as her eyes fall to my lips. “I want you.”

Her hands fly into my hair and she pulls me to her, crushing her mouth on mine. In a matter of seconds we’re a tangle of arms, legs, and lips, frantically grabbing at each other, eliminating any remaining space between us. I push her against the wall of the shower, stepping in with her as I pin her wrists above her head with one hand and use my other to slide two fingers inside her in one quick movement. She gasps and lets out a loud cry, making my dick harden even more beneath my board shorts.

I work my fingers inside her, biting down her neck and across her collar bone. She’s so wet that my fingers glide in and out with fluid ease. I want to bury my cock inside her, but she’s not ready for that – not yet. She’s opening herself up to me right now, and I don’t want to push her away.

I move my mouth to her nipple and tug it between my teeth as she arches toward me, thrusting her hips into my hand. My palm works against her clit as my fingers dive in and out. Her moans grow louder, my name escaping between the part in her lips every few breaths. Each time she says it my dick grows harder.

Suddenly, she rips her wrists free and grabs my shorts, untying them swiftly and tugging them over my hips. They fall to the floor of the shower and I kick them to the side, my fingers still inside her as she grabs my cock in her hand.

“Oh fuck,” I groan as she moves her hand over me, slowly at first and then she starts pumping, bringing me close to the edge. I thrust into her hand and dig my fingers deeper, finding her mouth and pulling her bottom lip between my teeth.

I rub my palm against her harder, friction building as my fingers glide in and out. Her breaths get shorter and shorter until she’s holding them altogether and I know she’s close. She tries to keep her hand working on me, but her grip is loosening, her focus drifting.

“This is about you,” I growl against her neck before biting it again. “I want you to come. Come on my fingers so I can taste you.”

“Oh God.” She lets out a loud moan, dropping her hands to grip the wall behind her. Her legs are shaking, so I pull her up into my arms and carry her out of the bathroom to the bed. I lay her down and quickly kiss down her stomach to her clit, circling it with my tongue while my fingers move. She shakes a few moments more, her moans increasing in volume before she stiffens and I feel her release, her pussy throbbing around my fingers as her screams ring out.

I don’t stop moving my hand or my tongue until she falls limp, her legs opening wide against the mattress. Slowly, I remove my fingers, kissing her all the way back to her lips before sucking her sweetness off my fingertips. Her eyes roll back and I kiss her soft and slow, our breaths coming down as she tastes herself on my tongue. My dick is throbbing, begging me for relief, but I focus on Skyler. I can handle myself later.

She doesn’t say anything as I grab a towel and her clothes from the bathroom. I pull her up from the bed and dry her off, still holding most of her weight against me as her legs tremble. She pulls on the boxers and I slide the shirt over her head before pulling her down onto the bed with me. Wrapping her in the covers, I pull her back to my chest and nuzzle into her still wet hair.

Within seconds, she’s asleep.

I wake to the sound of loud laughter on the TV. I reach for the remote to turn it off when I realize Skyler’s no longer in bed with me. My clothes are folded and laying where she once was, but there’s no sign of her anywhere. I check my phone, no missed text or call. No note on the nightstand.

Shit.

Sighing, I check the time before sending her a quick text. It’s just after seven.

- Ella Mae, how could you leave your fiancé without even a kiss goodbye? -

After ten minutes with no response, I throw the covers back in frustration and sit up. There’s a poker tournament tonight at a casino in Miami and I need to go. I haven’t practiced once since I’ve been here, and even if I do figure out Skyler’s weaknesses and power moves, it won’t matter if I’m not up on my own game.

The fact that I just thought about Skyler and poker makes me sick. How can I possibly still have my head in this fucking game of my father’s after what just happened between us? For a brief moment, I try to imagine what would happen if I just told him I wanted out – if I stayed at Palm South and had Skyler,
truly
had her. If she was mine.

But I know it can’t happen that way.

I shower quickly, my body reluctant to wash away the memory of Skyler’s hands and mouth. Between getting out of the shower and getting completely dressed, I check my phone a total of seven times with no response from her.

Fuck. I told myself not to push her, not to make this something it didn’t have to be, but damn if I had a choice when she was standing naked in my shower, her body glistening, her face hot with want. I should have stopped myself but I didn’t.

But she didn’t stop me either.

I call a cab and grab my keys, turning out the lights. I’m not in the right mindset for this tournament, but I don’t have a choice. As I lock the door behind me and start walking down the stairs, my phone pings in my pocket.

But it’s not Skyler.

It’s Adam.

- All pledges report to the house. You have twenty minutes. -

“I hate Valentine’s Day,” my Little says, swinging her legs in the air behind her as we lie stomach-down on my bed. We’ve been watching romantic comedies on Oxygen all day, taking solace in the relaxation we’ve somehow managed to find time for. My one Monday class was cancelled and she joined me after her two morning classes, bottles of wine stuffed in her backpack. We’re not technically supposed to drink in the sorority house, but that’s why they make bedazzled thermoses, right?

“I mean seriously, whose bright idea was it to make a day to single out the already miserably single?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, stop. Last year, Valentine’s Day was the best day ever to you.”

“Yeah, well,” she says, sitting up and grabbing our half-eaten bowl of popcorn. “That was because I had not one, but
two
guys fighting for my attention. How is it that Valentine’s Day is in four days and I don’t have a single option?”

“Could it have anything to do with the fact that your major is insanely difficult and you have to study anytime you’re not at a sorority event? I mean really Little, when is the last time you went out? To a frat party? To a bar? Anywhere other than the library?”

She opens her mouth to defend herself, pauses, and tosses a popcorn puff in instead. “Shit,” she muses after a minute. “You’re right.”

“I love when you say that.”

Cassie scowls, tossing a puff at me. “Okay, smarty pants, so what do I do? Valentine’s Day is in four days and I don’t have a date.”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD I’M GOING TO KILL SOMEONE!” Jess barges through the door, throwing her hoodie across the room onto her bed and slinging her purse against the wall. Her hair is mussed up, her cheeks pink – I can’t tell if she looks really pissed off or like she just had a quickie in the hallway.

“What the hell?” Cassie hugs tighter to her bowl of popcorn, as if it’s her child and might be the next victim of Jess’s rage.

Jess paces around the room, her hands twisting in her hair. “Greg. Fucking Greg.”

“What did he do?”

“It’s what he
didn’t
do,” Jess says, plopping onto her bed and letting herself fall back against the half exposed sheets. Cassie and I exchange confused glances and I shrug.

“Uh, care to divulge, J-Love?” I ask hesitantly, muting the TV.

“I’ve got a really bad case of the Blue Bean, ladies. A major Violet Vulva.”

More blank stares.

Jess leans up a little to peek at us over her boobs. Seeing our lack of response, she sits up and lets out an exaggerated huff. “Blue balls! I have blue balls. Like, fucking bruised, swollen, black and blue balls.”

I chance a glance at my Little and see her tuck her lip between her teeth, fighting back laughter. Trying to do the same, I press my lips together and nod. “Would you like me to rub them for you?”

At that, Cassie loses it and I follow suit, both of us laughing so hard tears spring to our eyes. Jess tosses two pillows and a stuffed shark at us in succession, clocking me on the head with one as Cassie catches the other two.

“Witches!”

I fight to speak through the laughter. “Sorry.” I clear my throat. “Sorry, Jess. Tell us what happened.”

“No, fuck you,” she says, pulling the covers of her bed down and wincing as she crawls under.

“Wait,” Cassie says, setting down the bowl of popcorn. “Does it really hurt?”

“Yes, fuckhead, it really hurts. I’m so worked up I’m pretty sure putting on sweat pants is going to make me orgasm.”

“Well shit, let me at least put on
Magic Mike
or something,” I say, flipping through the channels. Her last pillow flies across the room and hits the wall by my head.

“I hate you,” she says, but now she’s laughing, too. “What am I going to do? Like seriously, I’m going to kill him.
Murder
him. Hang him from the Omega Chi Beta roof. ”

“What happened? I don’t understand,” my Little asks.

Jess sighs, sitting up straight. “We were studying in his room, and you know how they’re on probation, right? Well, apparently there’s no visitors after eleven now. So, around ten, he starts fooling around with me. At first I’m not about it because, seriously, only an hour? But he’s persistent and fucking hot as hell so, of course, I give in. So we’re going at it, his hand is working all kinds of magic on me and he’s hard as a fucking rock. We’re just about to take it all the way when in walks Ryan, his fucking roommate.”

“Oh shit,” Cassie says and we both laugh again. I can’t help but flash back to last Sunday with Kip, how
his
hand was working magic on
me
. Magic isn’t even the right word – it doesn’t do justice to what he did to me. The way he spoke to me, the way his entire body touched and moved me, not just his hand. He put a spell on me. It wasn’t magic, it was witchcraft.