Foreplay: The Ivy Chronicles

by Sophie Jordan

  A low, rough chuckle left him, brushing my bare throat. His head dipped and his mouth closed over a nipple. Bright spots exploded behind my eyelids. I screamed, my nails digging into his shoulders. I shook in his arms, shudders rolling over me. I went limp, my body boneless.

  He eased me back down and curled around me, spooning me with his larger body. His erection was still there, prodding my backside, reminding me that he hadn’t reached his own release.

  As the delicious sensations faded from my body, awkwardness crept in. I held myself still for a moment, thinking, wondering what to say.

  What did one say after her first orgasm? Can I have another, please? I turned my face into the bed, muffling the snort at my own joke.

  He got up, and I held myself still on the bed, fiddling nervously with a lock of my hair, debating how I should handle this moment. There was a soft click and the room plunged into pulsing darkness. I heard a rustle and then felt a soft blanket drape over me. He returned, sliding under the blanket, his strong arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me into his chest. Moments passed as I waited for something else to happen. Is this the part where he tried to push me into having sex? His erection was still there, right behind me, distracting and exciting, building the clenching ache back to life between my legs. I squeezed my thighs, pressing them tightly together in an effort to assuage the almost painful throbbing there.

  Nothing. Not a word. Not a move.

  His erection became less insistent, and eventually his chest eased into a steady rhythm against my back. Unbelievable. He was actually asleep.

  I held myself tense, a board in his arms. I doubted I would ever sleep.

  That was my last thought before darkness rolled in.

  I woke with my legs tangled with the longer, heavier legs of a man. A definite first.

  My face burned, and various other parts of my body, as memories of the night before flooded me. I tensed instantly, all my senses alert, reaching out, listening, feeling for my surroundings. A light spattering of hair covered the masculine limbs, creating a delicious friction against my smooth legs. It was a wholly alien experience. I inhaled and caught the musky aroma of the cedar bed, and something else. Something already familiar. It was him. I knew his scent. The soap and musk and salt to his skin. I’d never known another person’s scent before. Well, save for Mom and Gram. Gram was a combination of laundry detergent and Bengay. Not an unpleasant odor. Mom was cigarette smoke and sour alcohol.

  I turned my head on the pillow and peeked to my right. A murky blue suffused the room, seeping in through the blinds. I studied him in the pale wash of dawn. He slept with one arm flung above his head, the other tossed out carelessly at his side. At least he no longer hugged me like some kind of favorite pillow. I was free.

  With his guard down he looked younger. My palm itched to touch his face, to feel the rasp of stubble against my palm. I had an unfettered view of the ink crawling along the side of his torso, moving over finely cut muscle and sinew, stopping only a couple of inches beneath his armpit. I peered at the words in the dim light. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. Was that biblical? My brow creased, more confused than ever that those words somehow held special meaning for him. Enough that he would permanently etch them onto his skin. It revealed a new side to him, a softness, depths I never suspected existed.

  Suppressing the urge to touch him, I untangled my legs from his and eased from the bed, quickly scanning the floor and finding my top and bra in a ball several feet away.

  As I dressed, I watched him, certain he would wake and level those smoky eyes on me at any moment. My heart beat a wild rhythm in my chest as I slipped on my last boot, bouncing lightly on my other foot.

  Standing, I carefully retrieved my phone from the bed and backed away, pausing at the top of the stairs. My gaze swept along every decadent inch of him nestled in the sheets like he was the subject of some kind of sexy cologne ad. I sucked a breath into my too-tight chest.

  With one hand braced on the wall for support, intense relief that he hadn’t woken rushed through me. But that wasn’t all I felt. Unease skittered through me, settling in the pit of my stomach like bubbling acid. It somehow felt wrong slipping away like this. Without a word. Like a thief in the night. A betrayal. Which was silly. One-night flings happened all the time. No strings. No commitments. And it wasn’t like we had sex. We didn’t need to stare at each other and suffer an uncomfortable conversation full of lies and promises to call. This wasn’t about that. He knew why I followed him up here last night. Why I dropped my guard and let myself do all those unbelievable things with him. We both knew. I wasn’t that girl he had to worry about sticking around and making a nuisance of herself, infatuated and desperately convinced he was the love of her life.

  Still, I hovered, arguing with myself, convincing myself it was okay to leave. I couldn’t imagine waking in the bright light of morning with last night between us. What would I say? I got what I came for. And he . . . I frowned, suddenly unsure what he had gotten out of the whole experience. I hadn’t slept with him. He hadn’t even . . .

  My cheeks flamed hot, which only pointed at how inexperienced and awkward I still was. I couldn’t even complete the thought. I shouldn’t blush at my own thoughts, and yet here I was, face burning simply thinking about how he got me off and then I hadn’t returned the favor.

  I tore my gaze away from him and quietly moved down the stairs, shooting Em a text to come and pick me up. I needed to get home anyway. I had work today. And I needed to study.

  I winced. Was I actually feeding myself excuses? As if I didn’t know the truth?

  As if I wasn’t running scared.

  The instant I climbed into Em’s car, the inquisition began and continued all the way back to the dorm. Apparently I would get no respite. Not that I expected I could keep any of last night to myself.

  Emerson fell onto my bed when we entered the room. She hadn’t bothered changing from her pajama bottoms and pink tank. She kicked off her slippers and curled her feet under her. Her short hair fell soft and smooth around her pixie face, free of product. She must have showered after Mulvaney’s last night. Her face was squeaky clean. Not a spot of makeup. She looked adorable and closer to fifteen than twenty.

  She shook her head at me and there was a touch of awe in the motion. “I never thought I’d see you come through that door at seven A.M. after a hookup. I mean I’ve done plenty of walks of shame, but you? Nuh-uh.”

  I waved a hand. “Please.”

  She lifted her face and shouted into the next room, “Georgia! She’s back!” Her eyes beamed brightly with approval. “I feel like we need to go out for pancakes or something to celebrate.”

  “It’s not my birthday, Emerson.”

  “Uh.” One of her dark eyebrows arched. “It kinda is.”

  Georgia shuffled in, looking like she had been awake for a while. She was always an early riser. She eyed me up and down as if looking for signs of injury. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine.” I nodded.

  “Told you she was okay,” Emerson said. Her gaze swung to me. “She was worried. That text . . . he sent it, right?”

  I nodded again.

  She grinned. “God. That was so hot.”

  I smiled weakly, dropping down in my chair. Georgia lowered herself onto the bed, shoving Emerson over.

  “Well. Dish,” Emerson demanded. “How was it? How was he?”

  “It was . . .” My voice faded, suddenly uncomfortable with sharing, and that left me a little confused. It was just a hookup. It wasn’t supposed to be anything special. Okay, I had covered bases one, two, and three in my otherwise base-free existence. That was special. True. But Reece . . . us . . . well, there was no us.

  My friends watched me, waiting expectantly.

  “It was nice,” I finished. “He was . . . he was nice.”

  Emerson flinched. “Nice?”

  “Hmm.” I nodded again.

  “That bad?” She tsked. “Sorry.”
>
  I blinked. “What? No. No. He was fantastic. He . . .” I floundered again.

  Georgia studied me carefully.

  Emerson tossed a small accent pillow at me. “Nice is code for sucks. Now tell us already!”

  “Em, she doesn’t want to.”

  Emerson looked at Georgia with a baffled expression. “Oh, come on. This was her first hookup. And he’s smokin’.” Her gaze swung back to me. “You can’t hold out on us.” Her eyes grew wide. She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Ohhh. Did you and he?” Her fingers did some funny little dance that ended with them interlocked.

  “No!” I tossed the pillow back at her.

  She caught it with a laugh. “Well, give us something then.”

  “Suffice it to say, a much more experienced woman sits before you.”

  She blew out a heavy breath. “Fine. You’re not going to give us anything juicy. Can you at least tell us whether you’re going to see him again, or do you feel suitably educated now?”

  It was like her question triggered my need to run. I rose from my chair and moved to gather some fresh clothes. I had to be at work in an hour. “Um. Not sure.” I sorted through my selection of khaki work pants, averting my eyes.

  “You don’t know?” A hint of concern tinged Georgia’s voice. “Don’t tell me he gave you the brush-off this morning. What a jerk.”

  I rolled my shoulders in an awkward shrug. “Ah, he might have still been sleeping when I slipped out.”

  “What?” Em’s voice came out a squeak. “No way. He’s waking to an empty bed?”

  I faced my friends again, my clothes and shower caddy in hand. “Yeah.” Even I detected the uncertainty in my voice.

  Georgia and Emerson shared a look.

  “Was that wrong?” I whispered.

  “A bit harsh, Pepper.” This from the girl who never spent the night with a guy—or let him spend the night.

  “Why?” I looked at them searchingly, my stomach churning uneasily.

  “Not even a good-bye?” Georgia asked.

  “Wow,” Emerson murmured. “Didn’t take you for a use-’im-and-lose-’im kind of girl.”

  My face flushed hot. “It wasn’t like that.”

  Georgia looked at me in sympathy. “That’s what he’s going to think when he wakes up.”

  I bit my lip, the acid stirring in my stomach boiling over. “I just didn’t want to face him. And no”—my gaze shot to Emerson—“not because last night was bad. I was just embarrassed, I guess.”

  “It’ll be fine. He’s a guy. Probably won’t think twice,” Emerson assured me, and that actually annoyed me a little. I was a walking contradiction. I didn’t want him to feel slighted, but I didn’t like the idea that he might not care that I had vanished from his bed, either. Ugh. This was confusing as hell.

  Shaking my head, I headed for the door. “I have to shower for work.”

  “Hey, even if he is insulted it’s a nice change. Let the guy feel abused for once,” Emerson called out.

  “Thanks,” I tossed over my shoulder, wondering what had become of me. When had I turned into a girl who shacked up with a hot bartender and then bailed on him before he woke up? It felt tawdry. Too much like the past that I was running from.

  Chapter 14

  It was almost one in the morning when the Campbells got home and paid me for the evening. Driving down that lonely rural road, I couldn’t help thinking about Reece. Especially as I passed the spot where my car had choked and died on me. Where we first met.

  My phone rang where it sat in my cup holder. A quick glance revealed it was Emerson. I answered it, keeping one hand carefully on the steering wheel. Immediately, the loud noise of music and blaring voices greeted me.

  “Hello?” I said loudly.

  “Are you done yet?” Her voice came back just as loudly in my ear, her tone exasperated. “You work too much, girl.”

  This from the girl who never had to work. I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. I’m on my way home.”

  “Meet us out! I’m with Suzanne.”

  “Nah, that’s okay. I’m headed home.”

  “Party poop! You-know-who is here.”

  My chest squeezed at the singsong taunt. “It’s okay. I’m tired.”

  “So lame! C’mon. Don’t you want to go another round with him? He looks really hot . . . and you should see this skank falling all over herself to get his attention right now. You need to get up here and claim your man!”

  I didn’t bother explaining that he wasn’t my man. Clearly Em had tossed back a few too many tonight. I doubted she would even register the words. “Is Suzanne driving you?”

  “Yes, Mom. And she’s dry as a whistle. Got her ID confiscated last week by a bouncer at Freemont’s.” She started laughing at this. I heard Suzanne in the background call her a name.

  “Be good,” I called. “I’m hanging up now.”

  Emerson started making booing sounds. Smiling, I hung up. I was still smiling as I entered the city limits. The smile started to slip as Em’s words played over in my head. All I could see in my mind was Reece, serving drinks while girls fawned over him. Suddenly I wasn’t driving toward home anymore.

  With no clear objective in mind, I was headed toward Mulvaney’s.

  Mulvaney’s was crowded as usual, but a lot of people were already leaving, spilling out the doors into the dark, cold night. I glanced at my phone, confirming that it was just thirty minutes until closing. They’d probably already announced last call. I knew it was kind of pointless arriving this late, but I was here. Out of place in my oversized university sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers. A far cry from the girls freezing their asses off in their itty-bitty outfits.

  I wore my hair back in a loose braid. My face was makeup free, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t here to get picked up or impress anyone. And yet I didn’t pretend I was here for Emerson, either. I loved the girl, but I wasn’t up for partying with her and Suzanne. I just wanted to see him. I didn’t need him to see me. Actually I didn’t want him to notice me at all. Seeing him was some kind of deep, compulsory desire that I had to feed.

  I steered clear of the bar and located Emerson, smack in the middle of a group of guys. Naturally. She flung her hands in the air and squealed when she saw me. She tossed her arms around my neck and hugged me like she hadn’t seen me in a week and not just this afternoon.

  “You’re such a sappy drunk,” I muttered into her ear, uncomfortable with the attention she was drawing to me.

  She pulled back and wagged a finger at me. “I’m not drunk.”

  I looked at Suzanne, who was clearly sober and looked annoyed over that fact. “Yeah, she’s had a few.”

  “Okay, okay, okay, okay. Here’s the deal. Here’s the deal.” Oh, yeah. Definitely drunk. She always repeated herself when she had too much to drink. She waved both hands in the air. “I just saw him at the bar.” I winced at her volume. Even as loud as the room was, her voice rose over the din.

  “Sshh.” I dragged both her hands down, but she continued talking in that too-loud voice.

  “I’ve been keeping an eye on him though. And that skank in the red top? I wanted to take care of her for you, but Warden here wouldn’t let me.”

  I shot Suzanne a thankful look. “I think it’s time we headed home.”

  Suzanne gave a single nod of agreement. The guys lurking close groaned in disappointment. Emerson joined in with their groans and gestured widely. “Aww. They want me to stay.”

  “I’m sure they do. Sorry, boys.” I slid an arm around Emerson’s waist.

  As we moved across the main floor, I couldn’t stop myself. My gaze skipped to the far right, scanning the bar. No sight of Reece. A booming voice shouted out last call, and more bodies started moving toward the back doors. We moved slowly, caught up in the sluggish current.

  Emerson’s voice jarred me, overly loud in my ear. “Oh! Hey! Hi there, Reece. Look, Pepper. It’s Reece.”

  My gaze swung forward. Reece stood in fron
t of us, looking down at me, his expression empty.

  “Hello,” I said dumbly.

  His gaze skimmed me and I recalled the way I looked. No makeup. Messy hair. Sweatshirt stained with applesauce. Awesome.

  “What are you doing here?” Not the warmest greeting. Was I banned from the bar now?

  An awkward silence fell between us, which was only more noticeable because there was so much noise around us. But there we stood, saying nothing.

  I shifted my feet, acutely conscious of Emerson’s and Suzanne’s avid gazes swinging between us like they were watching a tennis match. “I—am I not supposed to be here?” Instantly, I regretted the question. I really didn’t want to hear him proclaim that I wasn’t welcome here, and the decided lack of warmth in his gaze told me that’s what he was about to do.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, sending the feathered wing of his tattoo rippling as if caught in flight. The sleeves of his shirt pulled taut against his biceps. Something fluttered inside me as I recalled just how those biceps felt under my clenched fingers.

  He looked me over again and my cheeks stung hotter, recalling that he knew exactly what I looked like beneath my less than flattering clothes. Well, at least what the top half of me looked like. “Last I remember, you were in quite a rush to get out of here.” He cocked his head to the side and continued, “Or was that just my bed you were in a hurry to escape?”

  I sucked in a hissing breath.

  “Ohhh. Damn, Pepper!” I glared at Em. She shrugged and looked at me apologetically. “I told you that was harsh.”

  Did she really just out me? My gaze swung back to him. And did he really just say that?

  “Hey. It’s okay.” He held up one hand, palm out. “I mean I knew I was being used, but I didn’t realize I wasn’t worth a good-bye.”

  Apparently finished with me, he pushed back through the crowd toward the bar.