The Slam (12 page)

“Well, yeah,” he said bleakly, staring off into space, into nothing.

“What’s your name?” I asked the lost soul.

“Byron,” he replied vacantly.

Looking directly in his eyes, I gave him a firm, brisk handshake. “Delighted to meet you, Byron.”

He nodded miserably, his hand limp, like a wet fish.

“If it’s any consolation, Byron,” I said compassionately. “Justin Timberlake had hair that looked like pubes when he was younger. But Justin didn’t care. And a lot of people thought he was just another Mickey Mouse Club has-been. They thought he’d vanish into the ether after NSYNC broke up. But Justin didn’t let those people sidetrack him. He just focused on the work, on his art and his music, and look at him now.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Yeahhhh, son.” Byron began bobbing his head in time to the music. “Look at him now. That could be
me
someday.”

“Correct,” I said emphatically. “Never doubt that.”

After that impromptu pep talk, I was starting to feel marginally better. My head was no longer spinning and I was feeling good about doing my bit for humanity.

That boy with coarse and wiry hair—he now had
hope
, and he would no longer be defined by the texture of his follicles.

Without much effort, I got to my feet and bid Byron adieu. “Godspeed,” I said meaningfully.

“Go with God, good human,” he slurred in return. “Go with God.”

With a little pep in my step, I made my way back up the stairs in search of some nourishment.

My stomach churned. God, I was so hungry I could devour a whole pizza.

Make that two. Speaking of which…

Where on earth is Miguel?
I wondered as I padded down a narrow and sticky hallway.

I saw only a flash of a red plastic cup before I slammed into something or, rather, someone, almost toppling backward in the process.

“Ender?” I blinked, keenly aware that the front of my dress was now soaked with beer.

His strong arms slid around my waist to steady me. “Adelaide?”

“Bloody Oath!” I said accusingly. “You’re so hard I feel like I just slammed into a freight truck!”

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I wanted to know what this Greek tradition was all about. And now I get it!” I said luminously. “It’s all a cover for getting wasted and laid with the help of a bunch of elite friends who you’ll contact years later for jobs and legal advice.”

He said nothing. He simply stared, his darkening gaze burning into my skin.

A new silence coalesced around us.

He hadn’t let me go and his grip tightened around my waist.

The air around us took on an electric charge, and a warm and humming energy connected us. I felt his presence… Dark. Feral. Heady. Overpowering.

My breath caught and I wet my throat, tasting the thickness of the air around me.

The dark intensity of his gaze never wavered.

For some inexplicable reason, my lips parted and I caught his stare lingering on my mouth.

My body simultaneously wanted to bridge the gap between us and shove him away.

Feeling confused, I ached to know what this was. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to kiss me or bite me or—”

He captured my mouth in a deep, hungered kiss, and backed me up against the wall, kissing me harder, deeper, as if searching for something more.

I moaned into his mouth as his tongue slipped inside, stroking, teasing, exploring.

At the grinding pressure of his lips, one of my legs hooked around him, locking him in place. It took me a moment to realize I was kissing him just as fiercely, joining our tongues in a sensually erotic dance as he pressed me roughly against the wall.

A low whimper eased from my throat as he sucked my lower lip between his teeth and nipped erotically, biting down on my lip, holding it hostage before gently releasing it.

As he drew back, we stared at each other in silence, as though neither of us could quite grasp what had just happened.

“Oh, fun! Cool! Great!” I said at last, my voice slightly more high-pitched than usual. “Not at all awkward. Ha ha ha.”

Heat flared in my cheeks, my neck, my ears.

God. I must look like an heirloom tomato.

What is happening to me?
I felt so… nettled.

“You bit me when you kissed me just now,” I blabbered on. “Here I was wondering if you were going to kiss me or bite me, and you literally did both.” Then I let out a shrill laugh.

More tense silence.

In time, Ender released a long, controlled breath. “You’re coming home with me,” he said evenly. “Now.”

My voice leapt up at least an octave with nerves as I stammered, “But Miguel told me to—”

His face hardened. “Fuck Miguel! He never should have brought you here in the first place.”

“But—”

“No buts, Adelaide.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “We’re leaving.”

I opened my mouth to protest but something in the tone of his voice and the set of his jaw made me not want to argue with him.

“Fine!” I said as though it was my idea to leave all along.

In the meantime, Ender was already stalking toward the front door at breakneck speed.

“Wait!” I called after his disappearing back and quickened my pace. “Can we stop at Papa John’s on the way home?” I said urgently, hurrying to catch up with him. “I could really use some pizza.”

Gosh. I was completely knackered after that party. I could socialize in small doses, just not as long as most neurotypicals. The minute we walked through the front door, I flopped down onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh. “That frat party was beyond exhausting.” I let out a monstrous yawn. “I think I’m suffering from a social hangover.”

“Really?” Ender said without expression.

“Really,” I said, stifling back another yawn. “My social ‘cup’, so to speak, fills up very quickly. And,” I added, “just in case you were wondering, yes, I
have
conquered idioms.”

Ender stalked into the kitchen and poured himself a stiff drink. “If you don’t like the scene, why were you even there?”

“I already told you,” I said wearily. “The Greek fraternity tradition intrigues me and besides, Miguel invited me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrugged. “You never asked.”

We lapsed into a dreadful silence. “What about you?” I said at last. “Why were you there?”

Lifting the glass to his mouth, he knocked back his scotch. “Besides being the president of Sigma Chi, I was supposed to meet Mira at the party.”

“Mira?”

“She’s my, erm… friend,” he said with a certain degree of irritation.

“Oh,” I said. “Like a girlfriend?”

“No.” He poured himself another scotch. “I don’t do relationships. We’re friends with benefits.”

“Benefits?” I mused aloud. “Like earning cash back, travel rewards, and other perks with everyday purchases?”

“We’re fuck buddies, okay?” He downed his drink and slammed his glass on the counter. “That’s all we are.”

“Right,” I said, curling up on the sofa. “So won’t Mira be mad that you’re no longer at the party?”

“Her flight was delayed.” He checked his watch. “But she’ll be here in an hour. I told her to just come over and meet me here.”

“Hmm.” I bit down on my lower lip. “Mira must really like you to hop on a flight just to see you.”

Ender joined me on the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table. Then he reached for the remote and flicked on the TV. “She’s a flight attendant.”

“Really?” I said. “When I was little, I dreamt of becoming a flight attendant. I thought it was such a glamorous job.” I found myself smiling at the memory. “And it
was
a glamorous job back in the sixties. “These days, being a flight attendant means being a babysitter in the skies… a nanny in the clouds, so to speak. Not to mention, you have to be a peanut pusher, a trash collector, and a squasher of anti-ISIS sentiments in the skies. Such a demanding job.” I let out another monstrous yawn. “Gosh. I’m so tired. I’m almost comatose. I think my social hangover is kicking in.”

Ender sat with his eyes glued to the TV. “Social hangover?” he said without taking his eyes off the screen. “You sure you’re not suffering from a pizza hangover?” A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Considering you just scarfed down a whole pizza, you’ve probably got some
low ass
blood sugar right now.”

“Stop making fun of my blood glucose levels.” I delivered a solid punch to his arm. “And stop teasing me about how much I eat.”

He playfully punched my shoulder. “You’re like a bottomless pit. You can
eat and eat
and eat
.”

“Hey!” I said a tad defensively. “So can
you
.”

“Not as much as
you
.” His face lit with humor and his mouth began twitching, first in one corner before curling into a grin made more charming by the fact that he tried to suppress it. Shaking his head, he reclined to the cushions and linked his hands behind his head.

For the next half hour, we sat in companionable silence and watched the tennis match play on TV.

Well, mostly
he
watched. My eyes were so droopy, so heavy with exhaustion that I kept nodding off. But I forced myself to stay awake.

For some unfathomable reason, I wanted to meet this Mira person.

Try as I might, my eyelids kept fluttering as I listened to the ‘THWOP… THWOPS’ of tennis balls on racket strings bouncing back and forth across the court.

Ah. I found the sound exceedingly soothing.

“THWOP… THWOP.”

“THWOP… TWHOP.”

“THWOP… TWHOP.”

Snuggling into the cushions, I gave a great yawn.

So soothing
. I yawned again.
So very, very soothing.

In time, my eyelids drifted shut and I allowed the
thwopping
sounds to lull me into a deep and restful sleep.

Chapter Twelve

ENDER

I tried to keep my eyes fixed on the TV screen but they kept straying over to Adelaide. That dress showed off her lean and athletic physique, her long, toned legs, and her smooth, tanned complexion.

I swallowed with a dry throat. Not only did I
know
she wasn’t wearing underwear, I could
tell
.

That powder-white dress left little to the imagination, the thin material almost translucent against her sun-bronzed skin.

At some point during the match I noticed that Adelaide had dozed off.

Flicking off the TV, I gazed at her sidelong, allowing myself to openly stare at her, to drink in the sight of her.

The golden lamplight played over her face, her bare shoulders and the perfect, gentle curve of her breasts. My breathing deepened and I felt my cock stir as my gaze raked over the shadow of her nipples, stiff and proud, pushing against the fabric.

I wet my throat. At the party earlier tonight, my cock had strained against the zipper of my jeans at the mere sight of her. Not only was her dress see-through-white, it was low-cut, hanging from thin spaghetti straps, and for a moment I thought I’d been staring at an angel.

Not a heaven-sent angel. A Victoria’s Secret angel.

Goddammit. That scrap of cloth wasn’t a dress; it was fucking lingerie and Adelaide looked mind-numbingly hot in it. Sweet. Sexy. Innocent.

And I openly stared at her in a way I hadn’t before.

I swallowed hard. The girl didn’t just
look
innocent—hell, she
was
innocent.

Adelaide hadn’t the slightest idea of the effect she had on men. Right now, she was making me so goddamn hard my cock was going to have a permanent imprint from my zipper. I almost wished for her ill-fitting clothes.

Fuck! I dragged a hand through my hair. And why had I kissed her earlier?

What the fuck was that all about?

Needing to put some distance between us, I pushed myself off the couch and stalked to the kitchen to pour myself another scotch when a sharp rap sounded on the front door.

In several long strides, I crossed the living room and swung the door wide open.

Mira didn’t say anything, merely gave me a seductive smile and stepped inside. Her high heels made a sharp, clipping noise as she sashayed over the marble floor.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked.

“Wine,” she purred.

Turning from her, I headed toward the kitchen, expecting Mira to follow. She did, but her stride hitched as she passed the living room. “Who’s that pretty little thing sleeping on your sofa?”

I opened a bottle of red wine, poured her a glass, and handed it to her. “A friend.”

“Is she now?” A slight, feline smile curved the corners of her generous mouth. “Your new play thing?”

Lounging against the counter, I scowled. “No.”

Mira gave me a sultry look as she approached me, her generous hips swaying gently. The way she moved, it was sleek, graceful, predatory… like a feral animal ready to pounce.

I’d always been into slightly older women, especially since I liked sex rough, hard and raw, and that required someone like Mira.

“Do tell me more about her.” Her voice was a smoky whisper. “She’s a doll.”

My scowl deepened. “Did you come here to talk or to fuck?”

Mira took a long sip, set the wineglass on the counter, and then got down on her knees. “To fuck of course.”

“Mira.” My gaze locked onto the figure asleep on the sofa. “Not here.”

“Why not?” Her breathing was a deep, seductive rasp as she tugged at my jeans and removed my boxer briefs, freeing my raging erection. “You’re already rock hard.”

A ragged groan scraped from my throat as her tongue traced the shape of my cock. Then she licked the blunted crest before drawing the entire length of my shaft into her mouth, softly sucking it all the way into the back of her throat.

Fuck.
I winced at the acute pleasure. As she let my cock slide back out to her lips, I kept my gaze trained on the sofa.

Adelaide was awake, watching us.

Gripping the edge of the counter, I held her stare, my hips arching forward as Mira’s mouth sank down the stalk of my cock, her tongue and lips devouring every inch of me.

Adelaide’s gaze shifted, and her rapt attention was now focused on Mira’s mouth bobbing up and down the length of my shaft, her lips cinching around my dick, stroking me greedily with her tongue, the roof of her mouth, her throat.

I watched Adelaide take in the scene, her curiosity honest and real.

My body was strung tight, my cock throbbing in agony as I took in her reaction.

Her skin was now flushed with arousal, her eyes dilated with excitement.

The sight of her becoming aroused, it fuckin’ excited me.

My eyes never left her face and as our gazes locked again, her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

I fucking exploded.

“
Adelaide
,” I groaned, my voice thick and hoarse as the climax roared up from the base of my spine.

Cum shot down the back of Mira’s throat and she swallowed audibly, sucking me off and licking me clean.

Then she stood up and smiled at me, her lips puffy and swollen from her labors. “What did you say just now, babe?”

Fuck.
Coughing lightly, I said, “‘Man, it’s late.’”

“Humph.” Mira stared at me suspiciously. “I thought it sounded more like you said, ‘I ate late.’”

“Yeah,” I grunted. “That was it. I did eat kind of late tonight.”

“Funny you should say that.” Mira slipped out of her skirt, pushed herself up onto the granite countertop and spread her legs wide open for me. “Because I don’t give a fuck if you ate late.” Her eyes caught mine, a flash of wry humor in their dark, entrancing depths. “It’s your turn to feast on me now.”

Her crotchless panties gave me an excellent view of her extruded clit and the creamy release seeping out of the moist folds of her sex.

I drew a ragged breath that verged on a groan. “I’m gonna eat you out until you scream.”

Without breaking her stare, I brought my mouth to her sex.

Mira ground her clit against my mouth as I slid my tongue from side to side…
side to side
…
side to side
…
side to side
… not stopping, not relenting until she was screaming from the pleasure I was giving her.

A wild, primal, sexual cry curled up from the back of her throat as she came, her nails scoring my muscled back as her body shook and convulsed around me.

Moments later, I lifted my mouth from Mira’s pussy and my gaze zeroed in on the couch.

Adelaide was no longer there.

The next morning, I made the swift introductions as Adelaide breezed into the living room. “Mira.” I cleared my throat twice. “This is Addy.”

All things considered, I didn’t want Mira knowing that I’d called out ‘Adelaide’ when I exploded in her mouth last night.

That I knew for certain.

But what I wasn’t so sure about was why I’d called out Adelaide’s name in the first place.
That
… I was still trying to figure out.

The look Mira leveled at Adelaide was calm and considering. “Addy,” she said coolly. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Adelaide said rigidly, tripping over her laces.

Mira leaned back against the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. “Addy.” A pause. Then she tilted her head, curiosity shining in her eyes. “Is that short for Addison?”

“No.” Adelaide knelt down to tie her shoe. “It’s short for Adelaide.”

“I see.” Turning to me, Mira arched a delicate brow. “Interesting. How
very, very
interesting.” I didn’t miss the alteration in her tone.

Naturally, Adelaide did.

She missed it entirely.

“What is?” she asked, double-knotting her laces.

“Oh, nothing.” Mira waved her words aside. Then she leaned forward and kissed me fully on the lips. “Ciao, babes.”

“You’re leaving already?” Adelaide stood, smoothing down her tennis skirt. “But you just got here,” she said hurriedly. “You can’t leave yet. I’ve got so many questions for you.”

Before Mira had a chance to even speak, Adelaide was already firing off a round of questions:

“Why do airline seats have to be in an upright position during takeoff and landing? What difference does it make?”

“Is your airline, or any other you might be aware of, trying to improve the quality of airline food? Or is that pretty much a lost cause?”

“Obviously you aren’t expected to have pilot skills, but does your training include even the most rudimentary ‘how-to’ on landing a plane in the event the pilots are incapacitated?”

“What does it take to get an upgrade once I’m already on the plane?”

“How often are the blankets washed?”

“What do you do after the plane lands? Do you get to have a short vacation at the destination?”

“When I order soft drinks on a flight, sometimes the flight attendants pour me a small cup, and other times they give me the whole can. What makes them decide this?”

“Does it annoy you when people use the flight attendant button?”

“What would make a flight attendant’s day? Snacks, candy, Starbucks gift cards… any ideas for small gifts of appreciation?”

“Oh,
hunni
. You’re adorkable.” Mira gave a tinkling laugh.

Adorkable?
I can’t decide if that’s something charming or incredibly twee.

“So many questions and so little time,” Mira said regretfully. “I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got a nine o’clock flight to catch, darling.” She rose from the sofa, grabbed her purse, and sashayed across the room, her high heels clicking and clacking with every step. “Must dash, my lovelies! Maybe next time we can have a nice little chitchat, Adelaide.”

As Mira passed the foyer, she paused to check her reflection in the mirror before calmly letting herself out the front door.

The door clicked shut behind her and the room went silent.

A moment passed before Adelaide spoke. “Is Mira possibly a powerful and mystical Greek goddess manifesting a human form?”

“You think she’s pretty?”

“Pretty?” she cried indignantly. “More like effervescently beautiful.” Unzipping her gym bag, she tossed her racket inside and zipped it back up.

“You heading down to the court?” I asked.

“Correct,” she said, slinging her gym bag across her shoulder. “I could use a ride. Unless you’ll let me drive your car.”

“I’ll take you,” I said, getting to my feet. “I’m headed that way myself. Gotta train today.”

“Train?” she said quizzically. “Mind if I join you?”

“Nope.” Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I dragged it across my chest and yanked it over my head. “Just let me get changed first, then we can get going.”

As I was turning to head for my room, a bubble of laughter escaped her.

“What?” I frowned. “What the hell’s so funny?”

“Your back.” She clapped a hand to her mouth, barely concealing her laughter. “It looks like you’re dating Wolverine.”

My frown deepened as I looked over my shoulder, checking out the scratch marks on my back. “I told you,” I said shortly. “I’m not dating Mira.”

“I know, I know,” she said lightly. “You’re just fuck buddies.”

“About last night…” I hesitated, and before I had a chance to continue, Adelaide interrupted me.

“Yes,” she said too quickly, too forcefully. “About last night! I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

I waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t, I said with a certain amount of irritation, “What? Ask me!”

A blush stained her cheeks. “Last night… when you, erm… performed oral sex on Mira, I noticed that you didn’t remove her panties. Errr… why is that?”

“Oh, that!” I said with a sudden flash of comprehension. “Mira was wearing one of those crotchless panties.”

“Crotchless panties.” Adelaide smiled with relief. “Thank goodness for that! It looked like her vagina had eaten her panties and I feared it would have eaten up your condom, too!”