Spark (Academy of Unpredictable Magic Book 1)

by Sadie Moss

  But he hasn’t been making mine easy either.

  And now, we’re going to take it out on each other.

  My fingers work like mad to undo the buttons on his nice button-down shirt, yanking it open and pushing it off his shoulders while he does the same thing with Asher’s hoodie. It occurs to me that we probably shouldn’t take off too many clothes, just in case we have to redress in a hurry, but I need to feel his skin. It’s hot and smooth like I remembered, and the muscles beneath harden under my touch as his breath hitches in his throat.

  Giving in to my impulse, I step forward and press my lips to his bare chest, nipping, biting, and licking the skin. I swipe a nipple with the flat of my tongue, and he makes a warning noise low in his throat.

  Fucking hell, I want him so much. I don’t like to think of myself as sex-starved, but that’s how I feel every time I’m around this guy.

  Insatiable.

  Desperate.

  As I trail my mouth up to his shoulders and neck, I reach down and palm his cock through his slacks. He’s already rock hard, and he pushes into my hand greedily, as far gone from reason and self-control as I am. I give him what he wants, working my hand up and down as our lips meet again. As soon as they do, he plunges his tongue into my mouth, grabbing my face with both hands and walking me backward until my back hits the wall.

  Once he’s got me pinned there, he uses that leverage to work his body against mine. I’m trapped between him and the hard, cool stone, and the contrasting sensations drive me nuts. Goose bumps prickle over my skin as I slide my hands around to his ass, groping him shamelessly.

  “You got—a condom?” I gasp into his mouth.

  He pulls back, and I register an almost shocked look on his face in the darkness.

  Shit, did I just ruin this moment? My pussy is clenching, my clit throbbing, desperate for some relief, but maybe I pushed him too far. This is definitely one of the craziest things I’ve ever done, and Roman strikes me as a lot more responsible than I am. There’s no way he’s going to—

  But he does.

  Gaze still locked on mine, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, retrieving the condom tucked safely inside.

  Breathing heavily, he pushes me farther back into the recesses of the little alcove, and I hear the crinkle of a wrapper and the soft sound of a zipper. A moment later, his hands are back on me again. Our propensity for having sex in dark public places means I don’t get to see the look on his face, but I don’t need to. The way his hands move roughly, almost possessively over my body tells me everything I need to know.

  His strong fingers tilt my chin up, and I feel his breath caress my lips as he brings his face down to mine. “What the hell are you doing to me, Reckless?”

  “I’m trying to fuck you,” I joke breathlessly, my voice a low whisper.

  The hand on my chin tightens, gripping hard, as if he’s struggling to maintain some kind of control. “Christ.”

  Then he’s shoving my shorts and panties down in one quick movement. I kick them off awkwardly, leaving my shoes on, as arousal and nerves fill my body with electricity.

  My arms go around Roman’s neck, and he lifts me easily, cupping my ass as his cock teases my entrance. He’s right there, rock hard, and I’m so fucking wet for him. I reach down between us, lining him up, and as soon as his broad head slips inside me, he surges forward, pinning me to the cool stone again as he fills me completely. We both let out a choked groan as my inner walls stretch to accommodate him. He’s big, and I can feel him everywhere, and holy fuck, I missed this.

  He drops his head to kiss me, sucking on my tongue, biting my lips, crashing his teeth against mine as he drives into me hard and fast. We’re both making a concerted effort to be quiet, so the only sounds in the small space are the rustle of clothes, the soft slap of our bodies colliding, and muffled whimpers and grunts.

  But that somehow makes it even hotter, and the more I try to contain my reactions, the more worked up I get. His pubic bone grinds against my clit every time he thrusts into me, and if I thought being fucked from behind in an alley was hot, this is so much better. Facing him, being held in his arms, makes me feel more connected to him—and I don’t let myself think about why I like that so much.

  Instead, I just let the onslaught of sensations buffet me, and when the orgasm hits me, I do my best to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs. I’m only mildly successful, and Roman cuts off my low cry with another kiss, pulling the sounds from my body and swallowing them like he fucking owns them now.

  “Yes,” he grunts. “God, yes.”

  His cock jerks and swells, and he swirls his hips against mine as he comes, making me shudder with agonizingly sweet aftershocks. His thick length pulses inside me, his release drawing out for several seconds.

  When he finally stops moving, we’re both out of breath, and I’m pretty sure I’ve worked up a little sheen of sweat. I can feel the air cooling my bare legs and ass, and my lower back is a little sore from being pressed against the wall.

  Whatever, I think in a daze. So fucking worth it.

  Slowly, as if he’s coming out of a trance, he pulls back to gaze down at me.

  My eyes have adjusted enough that I can just barely make out his face, and as he blinks at me in shock, it catches up to me too.

  Reality slams into me like a truckload of bricks.

  What the hell did we just do?

  Chapter 16

  Oh shit.

  That… was a mistake.

  Not that sex itself is a mistake—I’m actually quite a fan of it. And the student-teacher thing doesn’t really bother me, although I should probably be at least a little ashamed. But I’m not, and I refuse to be. I kicked shame out the door years ago.

  It was a mistake because of the pull I feel toward Roman.

  He finally draws out of me and sets me gently on my feet, stepping back to do... Jesus, I don’t even know what with the condom. I take the opportunity to grope around in the dark for my panties and shorts and tug them on quickly. Then I do the same for Asher’s hoodie, feeling a little bad for dropping it on the floor earlier. Not that it’s his most prized possession, but still.

  I shove my hands through the armholes and zip it up quickly. Roman is putting his shirt back on, staring at me again as he methodically works the buttons. Crap, I need to get out of here before I do something stupid like cuddle up to him in a post-sex afterglow and indulge in slow, lazy kisses.

  The kind that aren’t about fucking.

  The kind that might mean something.

  Nope. Gotta go.

  I slip back out into the hallway, which is thankfully still deserted. The moonlight coming in from the windows gives me enough illumination to navigate by. But before I can make it more than a few steps, Roman catches my wrist. When I turn back to him, he’s got this look on his face like he can’t quite believe I’d pull the exact same stunt twice.

  “Where the hell are you going?”

  “Um, back to my room?”

  He tugs on my wrist, and even though his grip isn’t hard and the force is light enough that I could resist it, I don’t. We’re not even hidden in the alcove anymore, but he draws me against his body and presses his lips to mine.

  I just came so hard I saw stars, but this kiss? It’s something on a whole other level. His mouth moves against mine, his tongue just barely brushing mine, tasting me, savoring me.

  “Come back to my place,” he murmurs when he finally pulls away.

  Fuck, it’s so tempting. To go back to his room, which undoubtedly has a proper bed where we could have sex again, deep and slow. To feel all that muscle over me, pinning me down as he moves inside me…

  But I can’t. My heart’s already twisting dangerously, and I will not let myself get sucked into a romance that will only hurt me in the end. I’m not as strong as I like to pretend I am, and I know I won’t be able to just brush it off when Roman inevitably decides I’m not worth it. I can’t go through that. Not
after Dad left, not after Mom died, not after my baby sister went to school where I won’t see her for months and months.

  You lose the people you love. It’s just the way the world works. And call me a coward, but… it seems to me like the solution to that problem is to not love anyone.

  Maybe this is just an infatuation, it’s true. It’s not like I’m imagining picking out wedding rings with the guy or anything. But that’s how all relationships start: with infatuation. It’s a slippery slope to bigger feelings, and one I am not sliding down—no thanks, not today, Satan.

  I pull out of Roman’s grasp. To his credit, he lets me; he doesn’t try to force me to stay. I appreciate it, but it also tugs at my heart in a dangerous way.

  This is the right choice. I know that.

  So why does my chest feel like an elephant is sitting on it?

  “No thanks. I can’t tonight,” I reply, trying to keep my voice light. “I’ll… I’ll see you in class.”

  “Elliot—”

  I slip away, ignoring him. I can feel his gaze on me as I go, and it seems like that’s all I’ve been doing lately—walking away while Roman watches.

  It hurts more than I’d like to admit.

  Clearly, I’ve got to go cold turkey and end this. I’m an adult. I can be a good girl and keep my hands to myself.

  As long as I’m never, ever, ever in a room alone with Roman again.

  That’s do-able, right?

  I sprint across the dark campus grounds toward the men’s dormitory and slip inside. When I get back to the dorm room, I think I’m home free—until the light clicks on.

  All three of my roommates are awake, and they’re all looking at me.

  Cam’s sitting on his bed, Asher’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and Dmitri’s sitting at his desk.

  Dmitri and Cam both speak at the same time. “What the hell?” Dmitri says, just as Cam says, “Thank fuck you’re okay, we were worried.”

  The two men glare at each other.

  “Of course she’s all right. Look at her.” Dmitri scowls, gesturing at me. I run a hand over my head as subtly as I can, hoping I don’t have a major case of sex-hair.

  Cam rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, Dima. Don’t act like you weren’t worried too.”

  “Guys…” Asher sounds exhausted. “It’s one in the morning; could we maybe do this later?” He walks over to me and asks gently, “Are you okay? Dmitri woke up and realized you weren’t here. We were afraid something had happened.”

  I nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Then what were you—” Dmitri starts, but he never gets a chance to finish.

  Because at that moment, someone screams.

  My heart seizes in my chest, and all four of us bolt out of the room so fast you’d think it was on fire. That wasn’t the kind of surprised scream someone might let out because they saw a damn spider. That was terror.

  Dmitri grabs me by the elbow as we run toward the sound, yanking me behind him. We reach the main hall of the dorm and pause to get our bearings. Other men are out of bed too, wondering what’s going on, asking questions in sleep-roughened voices.

  I spot Raul coming from the opposite wing. His hair is a little disheveled, sticking up on one side, and his eyes are so wide I can see white all around the irises.

  “Raul!” I lift a hand and gesture him over.

  He does a double take when he sees me then shuffles toward us, rubbing one hand over the back of his neck. “Hey… Elliot. What’s going on?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  Nobody else seems to care or really even register at the moment that there’s a girl amongst them. Probably a good thing.

  “It came from over there!” someone else calls, gesturing down a hall.

  “But that’s Roman’s bedroom,” another person says.

  “Roman?” I whisper.

  “A lot of the professors serve as housing assistants,” Asher whispers back. “You know, making sure nobody breaks the rules, advising students, keeping an eye on things.”

  Oh shit. I’ve been living in the same building as Roman this whole time and didn’t know it?

  Dmitri keeps me behind him as we move in a pack down the hall to Roman’s room. My heart’s hammering in my throat. I just left Roman. He wanted me to come back to his place with him—what if someone attacked him? What if it was because he was alone? What if he would’ve been fine if I’d gone with him? Or would I just be another victim?

  I hope he’s okay. Please let him be okay. I’ll be angry at myself later for caring so much, but right now I don’t give a shit. I just want to make sure…

  The door to his room is open a crack, and someone pushes on it until it swings wide. I can see inside, but just barely. Craning my neck a little more, I peer over Dmitri’s shoulder, and my jaw drops.

  There’s a dead body in the room, but it’s not Roman.

  No.

  Roman’s the one standing over the body.

  Chapter 17

  Everyone gasps and mutters in low whispers, pressing closer to the doorway despite Cam’s best efforts to make them back up.

  Roman hasn’t even acknowledged our presence. He’s just staring down at the body, not saying anything. His shirt, the one I ripped off his body less than an hour ago, is a deep plum color—something I didn’t even realize in the dark. Looking at him now, you’d never suspect the garment had been tossed haphazardly on the floor recently. He looks as put together and controlled as always, except for the single button he missed right above his belly button. Something about that is so normal, so human, it makes my heart constrict.

  Roman often seems almost inhuman—superhuman, really—and while I’m definitely drawn to his power and control, it’s this little thing that zaps me right in the heart.

  His jaw clenches, a gesture I’m starting to recognize, and he shakes his head as he gazes down at the prone body in front of him. I’ve never seen him look this upset, and I want to go to him, but… that would be way too obvious. It would tip everyone off to our relationship, and that’s the last thing either of us needs.

  Not that we have an actual relationship or anything.

  “Oh fuck,” Cam mutters, biting his bottom lip. “That’s Trevor.”

  My stomach dips as my gaze is drawn back to the body. There’s blood matting his hair, and it looks like he was hit on the head with something, like Jessica had been. But whatever hit him killed him.

  Jesus.

  Trevor was a first year. We had all our classes together, but I didn’t know him well. He was extroverted and funny, so he had a lot of friends already, and he was always nice to me, even though we weren’t close.

  Who the hell would want to kill him? And does it have to do with those other students who were attacked? How could it not? That would be a hell of a coincidence.

  I look over at Asher. “Do you think you could take off your brace? Just to calm everyone down and get them to clear out?”

  He shakes his head fervently. “No. I don’t want to control people like that. And I don’t think it’s possible for us to take the cuffs off ourselves anyway.”

  Yeah. I get that. I nod to let him know it’s okay before clearing my throat. Just like giving last call at the bar, right?

  “Hey! Assholes!”

  The whispered conversations cut off like someone hit the mute button, and everyone stops and stares at me. I think most of them are finally noticing that hey, there’s a girl here. At two in the morning. In the men’s dorm.

  Guess that cat’s out of the bag. But I’ll worry about my illicit living situation later.

  “It’s time to clear out,” I say, keeping the brash, authoritative tone in my voice. “Tip your waitresses, close out your tabs, yada yada yada. Unless you actually saw what happened here, you are persona non grata. So scram before I make you.”

  Everyone looks at each other, a little abashed. Then they slowly start to clear out, shuffling back down the hall towar
d their respective dorm rooms.

  Cam blinks at me. “Holy shit. That was awesome, Sin.”

  I shrug. “I’m a bartender. I’m used to getting rid of unwelcome people.”

  Dmitri looks vaguely impressed, but before I can call him out on it, someone else comes down the hall.

  Oh shit, it’s Dean Hardwick.

  The middle-aged man stops short when he sees us. He looks remarkably put together for two o’clock in the morning. I can’t imagine he was still awake at this hour, but nothing about his appearance suggests he just rolled out of bed either. Maybe that’s one of the requirements for becoming dean—the ability to appear polished at a moment’s notice.

  “What are you all doing here?” he asks in his commanding voice.

  “Heard a scream from this room,” Dmitri says, glaring. “Came to check it out.”

  Hardwick’s gaze flicks to Roman and Trevor’s body, and for a second, I can see the stress written on the dean’s face plain as day. Then his expression hardens, and he squints at Dmitri. “Came to gawk, you mean. Just like the rest of your dorm-mates. Off you go.”

  “We can’t!” I blurt out.

  “And why not?”

  “Hardwick,” Roman says, sounding tired and tense. “We have a problem.”

  The dean switches his attention to Roman, brows drawing together. “You’re damn right we have a problem. You know what this looks like.”

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “I’m not saying you did, but I can’t just ignore the fact that that’s what it looks like. I’ll have to do a full investigation on this, Roman. You know that.” Hardwick folds his arms. “Unless you can do that little trick of yours and prove it wasn’t you—”

  “That’s the problem I’m referring to,” Roman interjects. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t? Or you’re just pretending you can’t because you know he’ll say you killed him?”

  “Sorry.” I raise my hand, glancing between the two of them as I studiously avoid looking at the dead man on the floor. It’s not like he’s lying in a pool of blood, but there’s also no mistaking the fact that Trevor is no longer alive, and the thought makes nausea roil in my stomach. “What’s going on here?”