by Ana Huang
“I’m always down for food.”
“Great. There’s an amazing Vietnamese place around here somewhere.”
It took a few wrong turns, but Blake finally located the tiny restaurant he’d stumbled onto a few months ago when his friends were in Thailand. The unassuming spot was tucked into a side alleyway across from a trinket shop. Leather booths lined the walls; wooden latticework, lush green plants, and amber wall sconces emphasized the intimacy of the small space, which despite the late hour buzzed with activity.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me,” Farrah teased. She slipped off her coat and hung it on the wall peg near their table.
Blake’s dimples flashed. “Is it working?”
“Oh yeah. Wait till we get back to the dorm.” Farrah’s smile turned sly. “I have another birthday present for you.”
Blake’s blood heated. Despite his “no presents” request, Farrah had gifted him a beautiful monogrammed business card holder at dinner, “because every successful business owner needs one,” she explained. He loved the card holder, but at the moment, he was far more interested in the carnal possibilities flashing through his mind.
“Forget a second dinner.” Blake tossed his napkin on the table and stood up. “Let’s skip to dessert.”
He had some creative ideas involving whipped cream and chocolate he’d like to put into action.
Farrah’s silvery peal of laughter caused the other diners to turn their heads. “Oh no. Sit down,” she said. “You can’t tempt me with pho without following through on it.”
Blake pouted. Damn. “I can’t believe you’re choosing noodle soup over me.”
“To be fair, I’d choose noodle soup over almost anything. Except you.” Farrah reached across the table and interlaced their fingers. “You know I’d go anywhere with you.”
His heart melted into a pile of goo. It was scary how much power she had over him. “And you know I can’t deny you anything.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss along the back of it. “Especially not food. You’re scary when you’re hangry.”
Farrah grinned. “I’ve trained you well.”
“What am I, a dog?”
She patted his hand with her free one. “A very hot dog.” She giggled. “See what I did there? Hot. Dog. It’s funny,” she said when Blake raised his eyebrows.
“Be glad I love you so much. Jokes that bad should be banned.”
Farrah stuck out her tongue. “I’m only letting that slide because it’s your birthday.”
A harried waiter approached their table. They hadn’t looked at the menu yet but after a quick scan, Blake and Farrah placed their usual orders for Vietnamese food—pho with brisket and eye of round for her, grilled pork banh mi for him, and two summer rolls to share.
“I’m glad we could celebrate your birthday before we left.” Farrah rubbed her thumb over Blake’s knuckles. “I hope you enjoyed it.”
“Today is the best birthday I’ve had in ages. Because it’s my first birthday with you.” A year ago, Blake would’ve choked on the amount of cheese in those words. Now, he didn’t care. It was the truth.
Blake’s birthday wasn’t until next week—lucky him, his birthday fell two days before Christmas—but Farrah insisted on celebrating before they returned home for the holidays. He’d nixed a big party, much to Courtney’s disappointment, and settled for a group dinner at one of Olivia’s fancy-schmancy restaurants. Blake would’ve preferred beer and pizza at a casual joint, but the girls would’ve killed him.
Farrah sucked in a breath. “Who knew you were such a cornball?”
He smiled, trying not to think about the fact he wouldn’t see her in person again until late January. He couldn’t believe the semester was over. Three and a half months had passed in the blink of an eye. If his life hadn’t changed so much, he would’ve thought he’d just arrived in Shanghai. “Corn with extra cheese, that’s me. Do me a favor and don’t tell anyone.”
Her eyes sparkled with emotion. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
The waiter returned with their food. One bite told Blake it was as good as he remembered.
“9/10 on food recommendations.” Farrah slurped the broth from her spoon. “I’m impressed.”
“9/10?” Blake was insulted. “What’s the missing one?”
“That pizza place you took us to.”
“Which—oh.” Blake grimaced when he remembered the stale pizza crust and funky toppings from a few weeks ago. “Fine. I dropped the ball on that one. But this should be good enough to make up for it.”
“Mmhmm.”
They ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence. This was one of Blake’s favorite things about his relationship with Farrah. With his past girlfriends, he had to put on a show and be as lively and charming as everyone expected him to be. This was true even with Cleo, whom he grew up with. With Farrah, he could breathe.
It took them less than 20 minutes to polish off all their food. By the time they finished, Blake’s stomach strained against his pants. He was so full he couldn’t move.
Maybe a second dinner was a bad idea.
“I’m going to freshen up.” Farrah scooted out of the booth. “I spilled soup on my shirt.”
“It’s ok. We’ll get you out of that shirt soon enough.” Blake laughed as Farrah whacked him on the arm.
While she used the restroom, Blake paid the bill. No tipping culture in China, which took some getting used to but which he now appreciated.
After weeks of struggling to adjust to China’s unfamiliar customs and way of life at the beginning of the semester, Blake had finally settled into a comfortable Shanghai routine. The noise and pollution didn’t bother him so much anymore, and he even liked some of the foods he swore he’d never try. Turned out stinky tofu was quite delicious, once you got past the stinky part.
It was going to be weird going back to the States. Blake was already bracing himself for reverse culture shock, though it would be nice not to have to deal with squat toilets for a while.
After Farrah came back from the restroom, they shrugged on their coats and walked to the nearest metro station. It was so cold their breaths fogged around their face every time they breathed.
“Our last night.” Farrah sounded wistful. “It’s been a wild ride.”
“Our last night in Shanghai this semester,” Blake corrected. “We have next semester.”
He couldn’t wait. He missed his mom and his sister, but he wasn’t looking forward to seeing his father. He liked his old man best when he was more than 7,000 miles away. Besides, a month without seeing Farrah was going to be torture.
Sure, they had Skype, but it wasn’t the same.
On the other hand, Blake had always wanted to try cybersex…
“You’re right.” Farrah shook her head. “I didn’t mean to get all maudlin on your birthday. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Like what we’re going to do once we’re back in the dorm?” Blake wiggled his eyebrows. Fantasies of all the dirty things he and Farrah could do over video transitioned into fantasies of all the dirty things they were going to do in person.
Fuck cybersex. Nothing beat actual sex. Skin against skin. Mouth against mouth. Mouth against…other parts of the body.
Blake hardened until it was almost painful as a surge of lust rocketed through his veins. He eyed the overhead map telling them how many stops they had left before they reach SFSU.
Four.
Fuck. That was four stops too long.
Meanwhile, his arousal didn’t go unnoticed. Farrah’s eyes darkened with desire, and she stepped closer until her chest grazed his. Even though there were several layers of clothing between them, Blake’s body reacted like she’d stripped naked.
If they didn’t get off this damn train soon, he was going to lose it. Literally.
It didn’t help that Farrah started whispering things in his ear—things that had him ready to throw her on the floor of the train and take he
r, right then and there, onlookers be damned.
Fortunately, they arrived at their stop before he did something that’d have them arrested for public indecency.
Farrah laughed as Blake grabbed her hand and pushed his way off the crowded train with the urgency of a man on his way to the emergency room for a life-threatening situation.
In his case, the situation was blue balls.
“You think this is funny?” Blake growled.
Farrah’s eyes sparkled with lust and amusement. “It’s pretty funny.”
The dorm came into view.
“Let’s see about that.”
They made it to his room in record time. Blake kicked the door shut behind him and threw Farrah on the bed, eliciting a small cry of surprise. He didn’t waste any time shedding both their clothes.
She watched, eyes bright with excitement, as he rolled on a condom and then—he was inside her, driving deep with one hard stroke.
Jesus. She was so damn tight and wet it drove him out of his mind. Control became a distant memory. Blake pounded into her, driven by mindless need and insatiable lust.
Their first time had been long, sweet, and gentle. It was making love. This? This was fucking. Fast, rough, carnal. There was nothing gentle about it.
Farrah gave as good as she got, her hips slamming up to meet his, her nails raking down his back until they left red marks in his skin.
Blake hissed in pleasure. He thrust harder, driven by lust and a desire to bury himself so deep nothing could ever tear them apart.
White-hot lashes of sensation whipped through his body, burning him, enveloping him in their heat until he felt her muscles tighten around him. He slowed his thrusts and chuckled at Farrah’s frustrated growl.
Blake lowered his head to nip at her bottom lip. She whimpered in response. “This is for laughing at me earlier.”
Farrah grabbed his hair and yanked his head back up so they were eye-to-eye. Pain and pleasure washed through him. “Blake Ryan, if you don’t fuck me as hard you can right now, I will never give you a blow job again.”
Blake didn’t think it was possible, but he hardened even more. Normal Farrah was sexy. Aggressive Farrah was a whole other level.
Blake braced himself on the bed and resumed his thrusts. Partly because he liked having blow jobs in his future, partly because he was going to come from her words alone.
He increased his pace and force until he slammed into her so hard the headboard banged against the wall. Farrah stiffened. Her nails dug deeper and she cried out, a long keening wail, as she exploded around him. Pain and pleasure mingled until Blake, too, came with so much force stars speckled his vision.
When they were finally sated, they collapsed, boneless, in each other’s arms.
“Happy birthday,” Farrah gasped.
He muffled his laugh against her neck. “I think I lost a few brain cells, I came so hard.” Blake mustered the energy to remove and dispose of his condom before sinking back into his admittedly lumpy bed. But with Farrah beside him, it felt like heaven.
“You—”
“I know.” Blake shook his head. “I set myself up for that one.”
Farrah grinned and flipped over to straddle him. He was exhausted, but he perked up all the same. “Out of respect for your twenty-second year on earth, I won’t make the joke. I do, however, think we should have one more session. Since it’s your birthday and all.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.”
Farrah’s hair spilled over her shoulders like black silk. Her sweat-slick skin glowed in the moonlight filtering through his curtains. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Blake rested his hands on her hips. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much.”
“The break is only a few weeks.” The tips of her hair brushed his chest as she took his mouth in a sweet kiss. “Like you said, we have next semester. It’ll be like we never left.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Blake.
“You’re right.” He rubbed his thumb over her warm satin skin, trying to imprint the sensation in his mind.
“I’m always right.” Farrah fished a fresh condom out of his drawer and rolled it on before slowly guiding him inside her. Blake hissed out a breath. “Now, where were we?”
She started moving, and Blake forgot all about tomorrow, yesterday, or how the hell he got here. The only thing that mattered was that he was here, right now, with her.
SPRING SEMESTER
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Oh my god. Your hair!” Farrah’s mouth dropped when she saw Olivia.
The other girl touched her locks with a self-conscious hand. “Does it look stupid?”
“No, it looks amazing!” Olivia’s once waist-length hair swung around her shoulders in a clean, simple bob. The new style enhanced her cheekbones and made her eyes pop. “I love it.”
“Thanks.” Olivia beamed. “I thought it would be more professional.”
The girls stared at each other for a moment before they closed the remaining distance between them and hugged.
“It’s so good to see you!” Olivia squealed. “It’s been forever.”
“It feels that way.” The L.A. suburbs seemed so mundane after the excitement of Shanghai. Farrah enjoyed the warm weather and catching up with her family and friends, but she missed FEA and Blake. “Have you seen Kris?”
“Not yet. You?”
“Not yet.” Farrah helped Olivia haul her luggage up the stairs. Her arms strained with the effort. FEA needs to invest in an elevator. “You think she’s ok?”
“She’s fine.” Olivia sounded unsure. “It’s Kris.”
The girls’ hall was a mess of noise and bags. The dulcet tones of the latest pop hit drifted from Flo and Janet’s room into the corridor. Charlotte tromped past, dragging a massive comforter behind her. All around, girls laughed and hugged and reminisced about their winter breaks, so excited they tripped over their words.
FEA was back.
Farrah unpacked Olivia’s toiletry bag while her friend tossed her clothing on her bed. “Where’s Sammy? I can’t wait to see him.” Farrah missed his infectious laugh and good-natured jokes. He was the closest to a brother she ever had.
“He just landed. He’ll be here soon.” Olivia’s eyes gleamed. She pointed her chin at something behind Farrah. “In the meantime, someone’s here to see you.”
Farrah spun around. She sensed who it was before her eyes confirmed her hunch.
“Hey, girls.” Blake flashed his devastating dimples. “Miss me?”
After six weeks of talking to him through a computer screen, Blake appeared larger than life. His lean, muscular body filled the doorframe. His pale blue shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and matched the color of his eyes—the same eyes that drank Farrah in like a man dying of thirst in the desert.
“Hey, Blake.” Olivia nudged Farrah, who remained stock-still while her heart melted faster than Italian gelato during the summer.
Olivia upgraded her nudge to a gentle shove. “It’s Blake,” she hissed.
That did the trick.
Farrah regained control of her limbs and flew across the room into his arms. Blake caught her, his grip sure and strong. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in his crisp, familiar scent. “I missed you,” she said, too overcome with emotion for banter. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.” His warm breath tickled her skin. His mouth crashed against hers, their tongues tangling while her fingers dug into his arms. He tasted of hunger and desire. Of longing. Of love. He kissed her like his life depended on it.
Farrah sank into Blake’s embrace. After weeks of waiting and wanting, this was better than she imagined. She raked her fingers through his hair, desperate to—
“Ahem.”
Desperate to get—
“Ahem!”
Blake and Farrah groaned in unison. They tore themselves apart and peered at Olivia, who had unpacked in re
cord time and was now color-coordinating her closet.
“Get a room.” Olivia draped a strapless cobalt dress over a hanger. “Your own room.”
“Are you kicking us out?” Blake demanded.
“Yes. I love you guys, but I don’t want to watch you have sex.”
“Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.”
Olivia gasped.
Farrah tried not to laugh. “Don’t be rude.”
“I’m not.” Blake’s grin was pure devilishness. “I was merely posing a hypothetical.”
“Out!” Olivia pointed at the door. “Farrah, dump this rascal.”
“She would never.”
“If she had to choose between you and me, who do you think she’d choose?”
Blake looked at Farrah, who shrugged. He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m out, I’m out. I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
“I always want you.” Farrah entwined her arms around his neck. She could float off the ground, she was so happy.
Blake’s eyes darkened to sapphires. “Keep going.”
“Ugh.” Olivia hung her blue jumpsuit next to her blue dress. “Disgusting.”
“Sounds like someone needs a visit from Sammy.”
This time Farrah couldn’t hold back her laughter. She dragged Blake into the hall and closed the door before Olivia hurled a shoe at his head.
“Don’t provoke her! You came this close to getting impaled by a stiletto.”
“Nah. I have good reflexes. It’s one of my many talents.”
“New year, same Blake.”
“You can’t improve perfection.” This time, Blake was the one who pulled her down the hall.
“Your room is the other way.”
“Let’s go to your room. Janice isn’t back yet, is she?”
“Nope.” Janice was never in the dorm.
Farrah opened her door and flipped on the lights. It was clear which side was hers and which was Janice’s. Janice’s half of the space was standard dorm fare—no decorations, no personal touches except for a Billie Eilish poster above her bed.
Meanwhile, Farrah treated her space as a mini interior design project, albeit one on an extreme budget. She’d replaced FEA’s scratchy white sheets with a cute gray-and-white polka dot set she found at a local market. It wasn’t her favorite color combination, but it was the best she could find. Fortunately, she’d also snagged a gold throw pillow that jazzed up the look and matched the picture frames she brought from home. The various-sized frames showcased some of her favorite memories—Farrah and her friends clutching their high school graduation diplomas; Farrah and her mom on her first day of college; Farrah standing in the middle of the first room she ever designed (a pro bono project for her neighbor’s pre-teen daughter); Farrah and her friend Maggie eating pizza in Rome and cheesing for the camera.