Hers From The Start: A Collection of First In Series Reverse Harem

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Hers From The Start: A Collection of First In Series Reverse Harem Page 37

by Laura Greenwood


  “You want me to... I... strip... right.” I’m completely tongue-tied, and an amused smirk tugs at his mouth.

  “Terra, stop panicking. I’ll wait right over there.” He points to the door we just came through. “You can strip off and put your clothes in the dryer and there should be a spare robe right,”—he stalks to the other side of the room and picks a white robe off the row of hooks—“here.”

  Bringing it to his nose he sniffs and nods. “It’s clean, you’re good.” I take it from him and wait for him to move to the door. Like a true gentleman, Endo faces the door while I shimmy out of my tights and skirt, throwing them into the dryer. I yank my sweater off next, leaving on my bra and panties and slip into the robe, wrapping it tight around my body.

  “Okay, you can look,” I say as I set the dryer to hot and hit the switch. The machine whirs to life filling the awkward silence that has descended. “Thank you, for this.”

  “I have a confession to make.” Something clouds his usually fiery gaze.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “I didn’t bring you here under totally innocent pretenses.” Endo starts making his way toward me in strong confident steps, and I don’t know why but I retreat, keeping an appropriate distance between us. But when the backs of my legs hit a bench, there’s no escape, and my breath catches.

  “You didn’t?” I croak, my heart galloping in my chest as he inches closer. The storm rages on outside. Thunder rolls overhead, the intermittent flash of lightning pouring in through the window. “It’s really bad out there.”

  “You want to talk about the weather?” Endo is right in front of me now, fire and lust dancing in his eyes as his brows quirk up.

  “I…” My mouth is dry, and I dart out my tongue, swiping it across my lips.

  “Terra.” He swallows hard, his eyes burning with intensity as they fix on my mouth. “Do you have any idea how much I want to—”

  The door swings open and a group of cackling guys appear. “Get the fuck out of here,” Endo yells as he spins around blocking my body with his.

  “Easy, Machiavelli, we didn’t know anyone was back here.” The guy tries to peek over Endo’s broad shoulders to see who he’s shielding but my protector draws to his full height.

  “Who are you hiding back there? Come on now, we’re all friends and friends share, right?” he roars with laughter and Endo tenses, the anger rippling from him.

  “Watch your mouth.”

  “Or what, Machiavelli? Word around campus is your one fight away from being kicked out of school.”

  My ears perk up at that tidbit of information and I try to crane around Endo’s shoulder to see who’s talking, but as if he can read my mind, he pre-empts my move and steps right, blocking my view.

  “Take a walk, Brad,” Endo says, calmer this time.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever, man. Come on, guys, let’s see if the Game Room is empty.” They disappear, the door clicking shut behind them.

  “Endo, I—” I reach out to touch his shoulder but the second my fingers connect with it, heat flows into me spreading up my wrist and into my arm, and I know it’s his anger I’m feeling.

  But the moment passes when he takes my hand and turns to face me. “Let’s see if your clothes are dry,” he says in a tone that makes my stomach sink.

  “Okay.”

  He opens the drum and feels inside. “Almost as good as new.” Endo hands me my clothes and retreats to the door to give me some privacy.

  I dress in a hurry trying to figure out what just happened. One minute, I was sure he was going to kiss me, but then those guys had burst in on us and Endo’s walls slammed up.

  “All done,” I say, unable to hide the dejection in my voice. Endo glances over his shoulder but doesn’t speak. He just stands there, his eyes drinking me in as if he’s imprinting my face to his memory.

  “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get you back to your friends.”

  Like I’m someone he was just babysitting while her clothes dried. With a small nod, I brush past him determined not to let him, or the storm, ruin my night.

  13.

  “So, Terra,” Claire yells over the music. It’s louder now the party is in full swing. “Are you having fun?”

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak. It’s… different. An overload of sensations: the rhythmic beat, the hot and humid air, the lingering smell of alcohol and sweat. At first, I wasn’t sure I could handle it but as I’ve discovered over the last two hours, being overstimulated dulls out all the other stuff. And unless I concentrate really hard, I can barely feel Endo.

  True to his word, after helping me dry my clothes, he returned me to Claire and Mischa, told me to enjoy the party, and disappeared into the crowd. Amalia joined us not long after, and I haven’t seen Endo or Harry since. I’m telling myself it’s probably for the best. Endo almost kissed me, and part of me wanted him to. Which is confusing when I also kissed Cael. But tonight isn’t about worrying about guys. It’s about embracing college life. Spreading my wings, just as my grandmother wanted for me.

  “Do you want another beer?” Mischa asks but I shake my head. I’ve had three already and although it’s my mission to enjoy the party, I have no desire to end up drunk and making an ass of myself.

  “So?” Amalia loops her arm through mine, dropping her chin to my shoulder.

  “So?” I mimic casting her a sideways glance and she rolls her eyes at me.

  “Are you having fun?”

  “I am. I really am.”

  “Yes! I knew you would. And I’m glad you came, Terra. We all are.”

  “Ecstatic,” a voice says, and we look up to find Jesse with a sarcastic smile plastered on her face.

  “Jesse, quit being such a bitch.” Mischa shoots her a hard look, but it rolls off the bitch’s reinforced walls.

  “What?” Her eyes widen. I’ve never really noticed before, but Jesse is like the female version of Ross. Dark. Pained. Harboring a whole lot of hatred. But where something about him draws me in, everything about her forces me out. “I'm ecstatic. We’ve all been waiting a long time for someone as pure and innocent as Terra to show up and make things interesting.”

  “Jesse, either play nice or get out of here.” Amalia surprises me by taking my hand and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me. “Terra has as much right to be here as you do.”

  “Whatever, I’ll see you around.” She melts into the sea of bodies and I let out an exasperated breath.

  “What is her problem?”

  “Who, Jesse?” Amalia drops my hand. “She’s just one of those people with a massive chip on her shoulder, but don’t let her worry you. She’s harmless really.”

  Harmless, maybe, but she has a vicious tongue and I don’t understand why she hates me so much. A new song blasts out over the speakers and Claire grins. “I love this one. Come on, I think they’re dancing in the common room.” She grabs our hands and starts dragging us down through the kitchen and out into the hallway.

  “Guys, I’m not sure I’m ready for danc—”

  “Terra.” They both cry. “You have to come dance.”

  My protests are swallowed by the music as we enter the common room. It’s much like the one at Earhart except the walls are a dark gray and the furniture has been pushed against one wall to create a makeshift dance floor.

  “Come on.” Claire shakes her hips as she walks, and soon her and Amalia are rolling and popping their bodies as their hands take on a life of their own, twisting and turning in the air.

  “Come on, Terra,” they both yell and I inch forward, my eyes darting around the room, watching the other girls as they dance. They all look so comfortable, so sexy, and I’m… not.

  Suddenly, I can’t breathe, and my feet aren’t moving toward my friends, they’re moving away from them. Disappointment flashes in Amalia’s eyes but I wave her off. “I’ll be back. I promise,” I mouth. “Stay, have fun.”

  I wind through the bodies toward the back of the room when a hand snags mine. �
��Wha—”

  “Dance with me,” Endo says, pouting down at me like an irresistible puppy.

  “I… I can’t.” Dancing in front of the television or bouncing around my grandmother’s farm is one thing but this… with him staring at me like I’m the only thing he sees…

  It’s too much.

  “Terra.” He leans in, his lips ghosting across the loose curls around my face. “Dance with me, please?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I can see we’re alone, secreted away in the corner of the room. Hidden in the shadows. Even Endo’s red hair isn’t obvious here. We’re just two faceless bodies. He brings our joined hands to his chest and slips his fingers from mine, pressing my palm against his polo shirt, repeating the action with my other hand, until I can feel how quickly his heart is pounding beneath my touch. His hands slide around my waist and then he’s moving us, swaying us to the rhythm, but all I can hear is the thud of my own heart against my ribcage. Our eyes stay locked on each other’s as Rihanna’s sultry voice sings about wanting someone to stay. It’s the first time I’ve ever danced with anyone, let alone a guy, but all I can think is how familiar it feels. The firmness of Endo’s fingers against the curve of my hips. His breath fanning my face. The slight scratchiness of his stubble against my cheek. How we move in perfect synchronicity.

  “I’m dancing,” I say around a smile, so overwhelmed by how natural it feels, how right. Endo dips his head closer and whispers against my ear, “We’re dancing.” And despite the little voice grounding me to reality, I snuggle against his chest, letting him hold me tighter. Because the truth is, right here, in this moment, I don’t ever want to leave.

  “Terra, I—”

  Loud yells boom over the music and I flinch, startled by the sudden interruption. We’re no longer dancing but Endo’s still holding me. I sense his irritation, just as I had earlier in the utility room.

  “Endo—”

  Something shatters, and people start yelling. He moves me so quickly, one minute I’m in the warmth of his embrace, the next I’m plastered behind his broad shoulders.

  “What’s going on?” I curl my fingers around his bicep trying to get a look, but he blocks my view.

  “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” He grabs my hands and pulls me along the edge of the room. I can just see two guys going at it. Fists flying, bone cracking.

  “But shouldn’t we—” My words die on my tongue as Amalia and the girls come rushing over.

  “Oh my God, things are crazy.”

  “You should get out of here,” Endo says to them. “Security will already be on their way and you don’t need to get caught up in the fallout.”

  “You’re probably right.” Claire’s looking at him all dreamy-eyed and my spine straightens.

  “But what about you?”

  Endo turns his attention back to me, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be fine. Now go, get out of here.” His eyes flash fire and regret and I wonder if he’s as disappointed as I am that our dance got cut short.

  “Okay but be careful.” From the sounds coming from the common room, things are only getting hairier.

  Amalia ushers me out of the building and I’m relieved the storm has stopped. “That was crazy.”

  “Is it always like that?” I fold my arms around myself.

  “No way. Usually everyone just hangs out, has fun. I’m going to call Harry and let him know we’ve already left. We’ll see you back at the dorm later.” She says to Claire and Mischa who say their goodbyes and take off toward Earhart.

  “Wait, we’re not going with them?”

  “We’re meeting Harry and the others, remember?” Mischief glitters in her eyes and I roll my eyes on a groan. “Fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

  The old drama building is pitched in darkness, but Amalia is prepared, a flashlight dangling from her wrist.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, filling the heavy silence as we slip inside. “I know you didn’t really want to come, but I promised the others I’d bring you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’ve never met a witch as powerful as you before.”

  “Amalia, I’m not sure—”

  She grinds to a halt and turns to me. “Look, I know things didn’t go too well the first time we tried but I think if you give us a chance, you’ll be able to achieve so much. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m intrigued to see just what you can do.”

  “What I can do?” We start walking again, our footsteps like cracks of thunder in the dormant building.

  “Yeah, come on. This place gives me the creeps.” She laughs and the sound echoes down the long hallway.

  “You’re telling me,” I mumble as we huddle close, following the beam of light. When we reach the doors, I let Amalia open them and slip inside first.

  “Oh good, Violet and Greyson are already here.”

  My eyes scan the room, landing on the two cloaked figures waiting by the stage.

  “You’re early,” Amalia calls out to them as we make our way down the steps.

  A thick set guy with spiky white-blond hair answers, “We wanted to get a head start. Hello,” he says when we hit the bottom step. “You must be Terra.”

  “Hey.” I hover awkwardly. He hands Amalia a black cloak, and she slips it over her blouse and jeans.

  “I’m Greyson, and this mute is Violet.” He flicks his head to the girl behind him but she’s paying us no attention. Face tilted to the ceiling, palms upright she is whispering something. Latin, maybe. The words come in soft rifts, and I realize she’s chanting.

  “Don’t mind her.” Greyson steps into my line of sight. “Always work and no play makes Violet a dull girl. Isn’t that right, Vi?”

  Her head snaps up and a low growl forms in her throat. He laughs as if they’ve done this a thousand times and I can’t help but feel like an outsider.

  “Where are the others?”

  “Coming,” Amalia says as she brings me a black cloak, identical to the ones they’re wearing. “This is for you.”

  “But… I…” my fingers graze the fabric. “I’m not sure I’m ready—”

  “We’ll go easy on you. We’ve been dying to meet the new power source around here.”

  “Greyson,” she snaps but I’m stuck on the part where he called me a power source. As if they’re running on empty and I’m the nearest battery pack.

  “What?” he eyeballs her and then slides his gaze to me. “Sorry, Terra. I just mean, we’ve been eager to meet you. Officially.”

  “Officially?”

  “Girl,” he lets out a throaty laugh. “We felt you the second you arrived. I don’t think there’s a witch, psychic, or seer, within a ten-kilometer radius who didn’t feel you.”

  Greyson speaks his mind but strangely, I appreciate his truth. My whole life has been a vortex of lies, secrets and hiding that it feels nice to have someone tell me like it is.

  “And speak of the devil… Harry, look who showed up.”

  The temperature in the room drops but I lock eyes with him, refusing to be intimidated. Besides, from the sounds of it, they need me. Not the other way around. Which means, if Harry wants me to stick around, he better play nice. He’s not alone. A tall willowy girl with long blonde hair trails behind him, her arm looped through a guy who looks exactly like her, except his hair is cut short, blond wisps falling around his eyes.

  “Was everything okay?” Amalia asks the second they reach us. Harry’s jaw clenches and grunts, “Fucking freshman, can’t hold their liquor.”

  “Who was it this time?” Greyson chimes in.

  “Brad Chelsford and Dan Linton going at it. The common room is trashed.”

  “Shit.”

  Harry scrubs his jaw. “Let the dean handle them.” His cool gaze lands on Violet and he grumbles, “What’s she doing?”

  “Don’t ask me man. You know how she gets. Let her do her thing, she’s not harming anyone.”

  Harry’s eyes say other
wise, but he doesn’t reply, accepting a black cloak from Amalia.

  “Is this the new girl?” The blonde girl offers me a small wave. “I’m Carlie, this is my brother Carrig.”

  “Hi, I’m T—”

  “Terra. We know who you are.”

  I’m not sure how to feel about that so I purse my lips and watch as they move over to the circle on the floor. Violet doesn’t greet anyone, but she stops doing whatever it is she’s been doing since we arrived. I linger on the periphery, wondering what exactly it is they do here, when Harry’s gravelly voice says, “Terra, shall we?”

  I stare at him, mouth agape.

  “Ahh, excuse me?” the words barely form.

  “Well you’re here to learn, aren’t you?” he challenges, and I bristle. He hasn’t said or done anything to suggest he doesn’t want me here—in fact, I get the sense they’ve been waiting for me.

  But for what?

  Inhaling a deep breath, I make a snap decision. The fabric whooshes through the air as I fling it over my shoulders, pushing my arms deep into the holes. Looking at the five expectant faces, I pull up the hood and say, “Where do you want me?”

  AIR

  He watched as Terra followed the witch into the abandoned drama building. He couldn’t go inside without risk of being sensed but he would wait until she reappeared. And if necessary, he would call the others. Sol would be able to slip in undetected. He had excellent stealth, and control of his energy.

  Amalia and the witches had been an unexpected bump in the road. But then, what had they expected? Power radiated from Terra and it was no surprise the coven had picked up on it. Sol said he’d figured it could happen, but the others were too preoccupied with Terra. She was so naïve and untouched but alluring at the same time. He’d wanted to reach out and touch her more than once. And there’d been that one time they had almost kissed. His lips had ghosted over hers and she’d wanted it. Wanted him. But damn, if the others knew… oh, who was he kidding. They’d all probably almost crossed the line with her. Okay, maybe not Sol. He was different. Endo was a given. The fiery-haired giant was too tactile not to have tried something with her. And Ross, although not as hands-on, shared some deep spiritual connection with her. He’d witnessed it with his own eyes when he followed them once.

 

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