Malicious

by Alex Grayson

  “Yes. That’s what I’ve been trying to say this whole time. I’m sorry if it didn’t come out that way, but God, you’re infuriating to talk to sometimes.”

  “I’m infuriating? You should try being on the other end of this conversation right now.” He gestures between the two of us.

  “I never said I was an easy person to deal with,” I counter.

  “I never said I was either.” A trace of a smile tugs at his lips.

  “I’m sorry.” My shoulders sag forward. “I really was just trying to help.”

  “I know.” He shakes his head, the anger melting from his face. “I’m sorry too. I have a bad habit of letting my anger get the better of me.”

  “You?” I quirk a brow. “Never,” I say sarcastically.

  “Alright, smartass.” He steps into me, snaking an arm around my waist before pulling me flush against his chest. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should find a different way to deal with my anger.” Something flashes in his eyes, and I’m not sure if I should be more nervous or excited.

  “I stopped listening after you said I was right.” I yelp when he lays a hard smack to my ass.

  “You’re asking for it, woman,” he warns, backing me toward the bed.

  “And what exactly is it that I’m asking for?” I play innocent, batting my eyelashes dramatically.

  “For a fucking ass whooping is what.” He grins against my lips as he presses his mouth to mine.

  “How about no.” I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. “But I do have something in mind that might make you feel better,” I whisper against his mouth.

  “Oh, yeah?” He draws back, sucking in a sharp breath when, without a word, I drop to my knees in front of him. “Savannah.” He groans when I release his already hard erection from the confines of his pants, holding his weight in my hands. “It’s like you knew exactly what I was dreaming about.”

  “You were dreaming about this?” I gaze up at him, the look of lust on his face undeniable.

  “I always dream about you.”

  His words propel my action. I stroke my fingers slowly up and down his shaft before leaning forward to swirl my tongue around the head. His fingers tangle in my hair and an unintelligible slew of words fall from his mouth.

  I grip him harder, suck him in deeper, feeling his legs shake beneath his weight as I do.

  As much as I love sex with Oliver, and believe me, I do, there’s something just as pleasurable about this. Something so satisfying about the power I feel in this moment. The control I know I have over him.

  I continue to work him up and down, my hand and mouth working in unison to satisfy his entire length. It’s not long before I feel him tense. Before I hear the guttural moan rip from his throat and hot liquid spills into my mouth. I drink it all up, swallowing every ounce of his release. I slow my movements, trailing my tongue slowly from root to tip. Oliver twitches, his breathing still labored as he leans down and pulls me to my feet.

  “That was….” He shakes his head like he can’t even find the words for what that was.

  I smile, feeling quite pleased with myself at the moment.

  “Does that mean you forgive me?” I give him a hopeful look.

  “Forgive you? Fuck, I don’t even remember being mad anymore.” He chuckles, adjusting himself back into his pants before tugging me into his arms. His lips brush the top of my forehead.

  “I really am sorry.” I wrap my hands around his back and nuzzle my face into his chest.

  “Don’t. I know you were just trying to help.”

  “Do you?” I pull back and look up at him.

  “I do.” He slides his nose against mine. “And I love you for it.”

  I don’t think he means he actually loves me, but damn if my heart doesn’t flip against my ribcage just the same.

  Is that what I want? For Oliver to love me? For this to be something more than it already is? Honestly, I hadn’t given it that much thought. To me, it’s always been a matter of when this ends, not if. But the more time I spend with Oliver, the more I realize that I don’t want it to end.

  It’s hard to explain.

  I don’t know if it’s the realization that I might actually have real feelings for Oliver that makes me suddenly feel lightheaded, but when I move to straighten my posture, it feels like the whole floor moves with me. Everything goes topsy-turvy, and my knees give seconds before Oliver’s grip on me tightens, keeping me from going to the floor.

  It happens so quickly. One second I feel like I’m spinning, and then the next everything snaps back into focus.

  “V.” There’s panic in Oliver’s voice as I regain my footing. “Are you okay?” He pushes my hair over my shoulder, looking down at me with concern.

  “Yeah, sorry. I got a little dizzy there for a second.” I force a smile. “I think maybe I stood up too fast.” I give him a knowing look—just trying to lighten the mood.

  “Maybe you need to eat something,” he suggests. “We haven’t had anything since early last night.”

  I’m hungry. Starving actually. And yet, even still, the thought of food makes me feel instantly nauseous. Regardless, I have no doubt that lack of food is what caused my dizzy spell. It’s not the first time either. As of recent, it’s been happening more and more frequently, and while I have managed to keep down some food, I know it’s not enough.

  “Yeah, my blood sugar might be low.” I shrug like it’s nothing.

  “Come on. Let’s get ready and we can go get muffins and coffee from the little café on the corner.” He hesitates, like he’s afraid to release me.

  “I’m good,” I reassure him.

  “Well, maybe not coffee for you. Isn’t caffeine supposedly bad when you have an ulcer?” He reluctantly lets me go, watching me carefully, like he’s afraid I’m going to topple over at any second.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” I nod, swallowing past the guilt that seizes at my throat.

  I didn’t want to lie, but when Rylee asked me about it in front of Oliver, it just sort of fell from my lips. Truth be told, I never even made a doctor’s appointment. I just told them all that I did. And when that appointment time had come and gone, I knew I was going to have to say something. I just didn’t intend on it being a bold-faced lie.

  I know eventually I am going to have to seek some kind of real help. I’ve been trying so hard to manage this situation on its own. This illness. But even I’m realizing that it’s beyond my control at this point.

  Even still, what I do and how I do it will be my business and my business alone. It’s embarrassing enough knowing I let things get this far out of hand. The last thing I want is to have to admit what I intentionally put my body through to my family or my friends. And especially to Oliver.

  I try so hard to pretend like I have it all together. Like I’m so strong. When in reality, I’m probably weaker than all of them. I don’t want this condition to define how people look at me. How he looks at me. Because suddenly, that matters so much more than I ever thought it would.

  23

  OLIVER

  Slipping my phone into my pocket, I open my dorm door. It’s eerie as hell with the halls so quiet. Most students are still away at home for the holiday. Come Monday morning, the place will be bustling again, irritating the hell out of me.

  I close and lock my door, then head toward the elevator.

  “Yo, Oliver!” someone calls from behind. I turn as Belamy approaches. “Glad I caught you before you left.”

  “What’s up?”

  I don’t care for Belamy too much. He’s a jackass who thinks he’s God’s gift to women, but I’m in a good mood, so I’ll give him my time.

  The elevator doors open, and I step inside, hoping he’ll get the clue that I’m in a hurry. I hold my hand out to stop the door before it closes. I guess he’s going down too, because he steps inside with me and I press the first-floor button.

  “I thought you were going home for the holidays?” I ask an
d watch as the flashing numbers appear on the wall.

  “I did, but my parents left for Florida a couple of days ago. They’re staying on the beach for New Year’s.”

  “And you chose to come back to this shit hole instead of going with them?”

  He gives me a pointed look. “It’s also their anniversary.”

  “Got it,” I grunt. Old people fucking. I’d stay far the fuck away too.

  “Me and a couple guys are heading over to Carter’s. He’s throwing a big New Year’s party at his place. You and, what’s your girl’s name? Savannah, right?” I nod. “You should bring her over.”

  “Thanks for the invite, but we already have plans.”

  “That’s too bad. Maybe the next one.”

  The elevator stops and we both walk off.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say non committedly.

  Had Belamy asked me months ago, I would have been all for it, but a quiet night with Savannah, Z, and Rylee seems much more appealing. I’ve always been a partier—the bigger and wilder, the better. Not so much lately though.

  I’d say I was getting old and parties have lost their allure, but I’m only fucking nineteen. I just hate being surrounded by people I don’t know. Back home it was different because I knew everyone.

  Belamy and I part ways, and I head toward my car. I’m picking up Savannah from work on my way to her and Rylee’s place. Z’s picking up the alcohol and food. Our party of four won’t be wild, but it’ll damn sure be relaxing and satisfying.

  Pulling up to the curb in front of Grinders, I reach to shut off my car to go inside and wait, but Savannah’s already walking through the front door. A moment later, she’s inside my car, and I lean over for a kiss.

  “Hey,” I murmur against her lips.

  “Hey back at you.”

  I slide my tongue against her lips, and she opens for me. She tastes like the strawberry smoothies I know she loves.

  Moments later, I pull back and look at her. She’s seemed off a bit the last couple of days. Ever since we had our heated discussion after my mother and uncle’s visit. Despite her saying otherwise, I was pissed at the time because it really felt like she was taking my mother’s side. After thinking about it for a while though, I know she had my best interest at heart. I know I was hard on my mother, but it’s equally hard for me to look past everything she’s done. I need to learn how not to let it affect me so much. My mother’s actions are her own, not mine. I shouldn’t let what she does ruin my relationships.

  After Savannah’s buckled in, I get us back on the road. I reach over and grab her hand in mine, bringing it to my lap.

  “How was work?”

  “Eh.” She shrugs. “It was work. Surprisingly not busy. I actually got off a few minutes early.”

  A Taylor Swift song comes on the radio and Savannah reaches over and turns up the volume. I side-eye her and groan.

  “Not you too,” I complain. “I already had to put up with Rylee’s obsession last year.”

  She laughs. “I’m not a huge fan like her, but I do enjoy this song.”

  I can’t help but crack a smile as Savannah starts to sing along. She looks happy and carefree, which is different than how she’s been over the last couple of days. With that thought in mind, I let her sing her heart out. She can’t carry a tune worth shit, but I’m happy she feels comfortable enough around me to make a fool of herself.

  A few minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of her apartment building. Reaching to the backseat, I grab my overnight bag and climb from the car. Savannah still has a smile on her face when I open her door.

  “What has you in such a good mood today?” I ask, grabbing her hand as we walk toward her building.

  She grins so big her cheeks puff out. “I don’t know. Today just feels like a good day.”

  We stop at the elevator and I press the button before turning to face her. Snagging an arm around her waist, I pull her flush against me.

  “I like you happy like this.”

  I press my lips against hers, and the kiss turns heated. Too heated for the hallway. When I pull back, Savannah stares up at me with hooded eyes and a small smile touching her lips.

  “I know what would make me happier.”

  “Yeah?” I arch a brow. “What’s that?”

  “A nice long massage with you rubbing lotion over every inch of my body.”

  I groan and swoop down to take her lips again. Unfortunately, we’re interrupted when the elevator doors open, and an elderly couple walks out. They stop and look at us. The old man smirks while the older woman looks like she just ate something sour.

  “Sorry about that,” I say. “Just can’t deny her when her hands turn grabby.” To emphasize, I squeeze her ass.

  The woman gasps and the man chuckles before grabbing his wife’s hand to walk around us.

  “Did you really have to do that?” Savannah asks, looking up at me wryly. Her lips twitch, giving away the laugh she’s holding back.

  “Yep.” I pause. “And I have to do this too.”

  Before the doors close, I bend down low, put my shoulder to her midsection and easily hoist her up. Damn, but she weighs next to nothing.

  Squealing, she pinches my butt, making my ass cheeks clench. “Put me down, you brute!”

  I press the button for her floor and smack her ass. “Stay still, heathen, or I’ll drop you.”

  She stops moving and keeps quiet as we go up several floors. When I step off the elevator, I nearly lose my footing when she lifts the bottom of my shirt, shoves her hand inside my pants, and caresses my bare ass. My ass has never been an erogenous zone for me, but I have to admit, my dick perks up as she rubs her smooth hand against it.

  “I suggest you remove your hand from my pants before I fuck you right here in the hallway,” I warn, my voice dipping low.

  With a giggle, she pulls out her hand and goes limp over my shoulder. “Party pooper.”

  Since Savannah is with me and it’s her place, I don’t knock when I get to her door. After I close it behind us, I put Savannah down on her feet. Her face is red from the blood flow to her head, but she looks no worse for wear.

  “Jerk,” she snarks good-naturedly.

  I grab the front of her work shirt and pull her to me. I lean down, stopping only an inch away from her lips. “You know you love me anyway.”

  This is the second time I’ve used the term love when talking to her. I don’t know if what I feel for her is love. Only that whatever it is, it’s intense. The last time I used the word, she became dizzy afterward and almost fell on her ass. This time, I don’t give her the chance to think about it too much. I close the last inch of space between us and take her lips.

  By the time I pull back, we’re both out of breath. If it was up to me, I’d skip dinner and socializing and take her ass to bed for the evening. But I know she’s looking forward to a relaxing evening to bring in the New Year.

  “Come on. Let’s go see what Z got us to eat.”

  When we walk into the kitchen, Rylee avoids our eyes, but her cheeks are blazing red. Zayden’s across the room with a hand towel clutched in his hand. It hangs down in front of his crotch. He shoots daggers at me, and I return his look with a smirk.

  “Y’all ready to get this party started?” Savannah yells, walking up to Rylee and bumping her hip against hers.

  “Been ready. Just waiting on you two.”

  Going to the freezer, Savannah grabs a bottle of tequila and a couple different jugs of juice from the fridge. She grabs glasses next, and Rylee sidles up next to her.

  “Wait. I didn’t think about this. Isn’t alcohol bad for ulcers?”

  Savannah turns around, throwing one hand on her hip and using the other to poke Rylee in the chest.

  “You are not taking this away from me.” She looks at me next, and I raise my hands in the air, taking a step back. She brings her eyes back to Rylee. “I’ll eat, which will help a little. I haven’t had a lick of liquor in weeks. It’s New Years, and I
’m bringing the holiday in right.”

  Rylee doesn’t look convinced, and I can’t say I blame her. I don’t know much about ulcers and didn’t know alcohol would affect them. I’m not okay with Savannah doing something that could negatively affect her, but I also know she’s been under stress lately. Maybe letting loose with a little bit of alcohol will help her relax better.

  “Fine,” Rylee grumbles. “But we eat first, then let the booze flow.”

  “Deal.”

  Savannah stops by my side after brushing her teeth after eating. She said something about chicken between her molars before heading off to floss and brush. But now she’s back, sliding a kiss across my lips before she retakes her seat. I want to snatch her into my lap so I can kiss away more of her minty fresh breath.

  Patience and I have never been friends, but I force myself to be until after the ball drops at midnight.

  “How about we make this game a little more interesting?”

  The four of us are sitting at the kitchen table playing blackjack. Cartons of food and bowls of snacks are scattered about. The tequila bottle is over half empty, and I know we’re all feeling the effects.

  “What do you have in mind?” Savannah asks.

  Rylee looks to each of us before her brows jump up and down playfully. “Strip poker. You lose, you have to take off an item of clothing and take a shot.”

  I wait for Savannah’s protest. There’s not a chance in hell she’ll agree to something like this. She almost had a conniption fit the day I seduced her into having sex while we listened to Zayden and Rylee going at it.

  To say I’m surprised when I glance at her and see her contemplative expression is a huge understatement. I’m even more surprised when she grins big and says, “Let’s do it.”

  I look at Zayden to find him looking at me. We both shrug at the same time. “We’re in.”

  “With some rules,” Z adds. “To the underwear only. Unless you want me to sock Oliver in the eyes until they’re swollen shut so he can’t see you.”

  Rylee pouts as she grabs the cards to shuffle. “Spoil sport.”