by Laura Ward
I gave him a long, low sigh as my fingers brushed my thighs and grazed the slick skin between.
“What would I do to you?” I breathed into the phone. “Tell me.”
“You love my arms. You’d hold onto them as I sucked your breasts. Your hips would rock into me, begging for my fingers. And when I finally reached down to feel how wet you were, your hand would wrap around my cock. My fingers would slide into you and you’d stroke me while my fingers fucked you nice and slow.” Ben’s tone was tight with need and restraint.
My fingers were inside me, moving to the pace of his words. “I’m so wet,” I whispered. “I need more.” Instinctively, I held my breath as my hips rose, moving and circling to help my fingers find the rhythm that my body craved, the rhythm he was denying me with his slow, calm directions.
“Breathe baby,” Ben demanded. “I’ll give you what you want.” I let out the air I held and took in a shaky breath in return. “Press your thumb on your sweet spot. And circle it. Slowly. Keep thrusting those fingers deep, baby.”
His voice was low, strong, and in control, as if he was the one working my body over. It was so easy to close my eyes and fall under the spell of his words. I let myself believe he was next to me, his tantalizing lips pressing into my skin and finding delicate curves to leave his mark.
“Yes.” I moaned, my body burning and craving his words, sweat forming on my forehead. “What would I do to you? Tell me,” I begged, desperately hoping he was feeling even half of what I was. I needed to know that we were in this together—that even though we were pleasuring ourselves, in two separate states, and in two separate beds—we were sharing every second of this moment. Together.
“You’d stroke me faster, pumping up and down, over and over again. You’d swirl around the tip, twisting a bit at the end before I thrust into your tight fist.”
“Yes,” I agreed as Ben moaned and breathed heavily over the line.
“Christ, Jules. I’m so fucking hard. I want my cock buried deep inside you.” He moaned.
I murmured a series of unintelligible words in agreement.
“Faster,” I told him, plunging my fingers, rolling my hips, and rubbing my thumb across my clit. “I need to go faster.”
“Do it,” he growled. “Push those pretty fingers deep. Feel how tight and wet you are. Let that hand fuck you like I would.”
My back arched. It was the sound of his voice, his urgency, his command.
“I’m close,” I managed to say. “Are you...” My words trailed off as the impending wave of my orgasm seized me.
“So. Fucking. Close.” He bit the words out. I pictured him— his long, lean, tight body, clenched and driving into his hand, ready for release. I could imagine his six-pack abs, bunched together as his hips lifted, his hand squeezing and pumping, his body holding back and ready to explode.
At the thought of Ben on the verge of release, pleasure clawed through me, building and promising and rising like a thunderhead. My fingers pressed harder, rubbed faster, until the storm broke and I came in a shower of stuttered breaths and half-formed words. Ben’s name fell from my lips in a chant as the orgasm rolled over me in a deluge of pleasure so intense I wanted to drown in it.
He groaned loud and long, whispering my name.
How did I get so lucky to find a guy I trusted and wanted so intensely? Could I ever deserve to be the woman he thought I could be? I was trying.
When the roaring of my heartbeat continued to thrum in my ears, I opened my mouth to say the words I knew were true. I love you. But before they tumbled out, I came to my senses and stopped myself. I would never mess with his head and say that while he was on tour. I couldn’t give those words away over the phone. Not the first time.
After a few moments of internal struggle, I said, “Thank you, bass boy. I needed that.” I stretched lazily on my bed like a cat in the sun.
He chuckled. “Any time.”
“You are good with your mouth and hands.” I sighed, exhaustion and satisfaction making my eyes heavy. I turned on my side and curled up against the pillow, pulling the blankets on top of me.
“And that was from 2,000 miles away. Just wait until I get you all to myself again.” His tone was serious. A promise.
“Yeah,” I said sleepily.
“I should let you go.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “You have classes tomorrow and we’re leaving early for another stop. I’m sorry I woke you up, Jules.”
I laughed. “Are you kidding me? You can wake me up for that any night.”
“Good to know,” he said, and it sounded like he was smiling. “Sleep well.”
“Sweet dreams.”
We ended the call and I fell asleep naked, pretending that Ben was across the street performing at The Shell, and that he would join me later. The scene had become part of my nightly routine and seemed to be the only thing that helped me fall asleep anymore.
And until he was home for good and I was in his arms, I would count down the days and live in my little dream world.
I knew all too well that reality was a bitch. She went by many names, but the one I feared the most was Karma. And I hoped that bitch never found me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Julie
“Now you know how we feel,” Taren commented, as she and Lex sat cross-legged on the floor of my room.
“You dragged us along to parties with you time and again, despite our lack of interest,” Lex added, ripping a rope of licorice from the package and folding it into her mouth. “Now it’s your turn to take one for the team.”
“Gimme,” I demanded and held my hand out, palm up until Lex placed a piece of the candy on top. I shoved it between my lips, the strand hung out of the side of my mouth as I yanked on my boots. “There was a huge difference. I was there to entertain you. Who will entertain me tonight?”
“You’re super sensitive because it’s your first party at Pi Kappa without bass boy.” Lex scrunched up her nose in sympathy.
Ben had been gone for almost a month. The past few weeks had been the loneliest I’d ever known. A lesson ingrained in me by Nikki was that when a woman was sad, she found a man to make her happy. And that’s exactly what I had always done. Before Ben.
Break up with a guy? Hook up with another.
Bad grade on an exam? Flirt my way through The Shell.
Bored out of my mind? Party until I couldn’t see straight.
Those coping mechanisms didn’t hold the same luster they used to. They were no longer options and even if they were, I wasn’t interested anymore. And now my bad mood was piling up, and I still didn’t know how to deal with my problems like an adult.
What did I do when I discovered Nikki’s lies? Did I try to talk things out and make it work? Nope. I cut her out of my life without even a backward glance.
What about when I discovered that my bio dad never really abandoned me and still wanted a relationship? Did I call him and email him frequently to get to know him better? Nope. I avoided contact with him for fear of not getting a response.
And when I finally fell in love, how did I handle it? Was I truthful to Ben? Did I tell him all about my past and how I felt? Nope. I encouraged him to leave on a raging rock tour without telling him that the man he was touring with was my sperm donor.
I was doing everything wrong, but I was at a loss for how to do it right. The fear of being invested and getting rejected was always on my mind.
I couldn’t handle things the way I used to, and I didn’t want to. That wasn’t going to do me any good with any of my current issues. But being social chair of Tri-Gam, meant I attended parties. All of them. Tonight, we were back at Pi Kappa. Three months ago, I’d met Ben, my bass boy, up close and personal at a party like this one.
“Yeah, tonight will suck donkey balls without Ben there. Not that he attended parties with me, but I knew he was with his band or in his room. I had that to look forward to at the end of the night. Now…” My voice trailed off.
I shrugged. “No clue. But I do know I need to be sober sister for twenty pledges who are mighty excited for this night.” I stood up, pulling down my long top over my tight leggings. “So, I’m off.”
“Try to have fun.” Lex’s half smile was sympathetic.
Taren jumped up and hugged me. “You’ll be fine. Talk tomorrow?”
I nodded, took a deep breath, and slipped on my party-girl, worry-free, Jules persona.
I’d need it to get through the night.
***
I found an empty space of wall in the Pi Kappa house and let it prop me up as I surveyed the room.
“Hey, Jules,” Phil drawled, as he approached, handing me a red solo cup filled with something purple.
I eyed it and shook my head as I set it to the side. Taren’s aunt had told her, and she had taught us, never to drink something from an open cup at a party. Who the hell knew what could be in there?
“Hi.” I forced the greeting out as I crossed my arms over my chest. God, being sober at things like this was the absolute worst.
“You look hot tonight.” He bent down and spoke low into my ear, and I shivered as I leaned away. Not the good kind of shiver. This was a full-body shudder of the grossed-out variety.
“What’s up?” I asked, one eyebrow raised.
His eyes were amused, and his jaw dropped like he was offended. “What? I can’t even speak to you now? Your boy-toy isn’t here to entertain you, so I thought I’d come and make sure you were having a good time.” He smirked and sipped his drink. “Talk to Benny much these days?”
Benny? What the fuck?
“All the time.” I forced a smile and focused on the dance floor, making sure my girls were all having fun and not being man-handled too much by meatheads.
Phil braced his hand over the door frame above me. “Didn’t he tell you he asked me to give you something?”
I couldn’t keep the scowl off my face. “And why would he do that? It’s not like you two are close.”
Phil nodded. “True. But I have the room next to his. He wanted you to have a reminder of him the next time you were here. He left it with me.”
“Okay. Give it to me.”
He laughed. “I wasn’t going to lug it around all night. It’s upstairs. Come on,” he said, nodding toward the stairs.
“Why can’t you bring it down? I’m sober sister. I can’t leave.”
“It’ll only take a minute.”
My stomach tightened. Phil gave me the creeps, but I couldn’t deny that I was curious. I had no idea what Ben would give to Phil for me, but if there was something from my bass boy, I wanted it. It would be like him to be sweet and leave me a surprise. Maybe it was a copy of that song he’d been writing that I kept begging to hear.
“What is it? Tell me?” I wiped my clammy palms on my leggings, suddenly eager to have whatever it was.
“Jules, it’s sweet. And private. I’m not ruining the surprise. C’mon.” Phil looked at me, wide-eyed, and he seemed genuine.
I scanned the room again, and confident that everyone was okay, I looked at Phil and gestured toward the opposite side of the room. “Lead the way.”
I followed Phil up the stairs and down Ben’s hallway. As was customary on party nights, doors to bedrooms were closed. The hallway was eerily silent, with only the vibrations from the music below filling the space. The scent of stale beer and cigarettes lingered in the air, probably soaked into the walls from years of parties.
“Where are we going?”
“Right here.” Phil fished a key out of his pocket and slipped it into the lock. “My room,” he pushed the door open and stood to the side with his arm extended.
My feet remained glued to the spot where I stood.
“Do you want what he left you or not?” Phil asked, motioning with his arm for me to enter.
I did. I really, really, really did.
I moved into the doorway and walked several feet into Phil’s room. The place was a pigsty. I mean I didn’t expect cleanliness from a dude in college, but Phil took it to the extreme. His unmade bed was in the corner, his crap-covered desk pushed up against the wall. The floor was littered with clothes, boxes, and trash. His room was next door to Ben’s, but their rooms couldn’t have been more different.
“How the hell are you going to find it in this mess?” I asked him.
Phil walked toward me and instinctively I moved backward, bumping into the door, which he’d shut behind me.
“I know right where it is.” He spoke in an odd tone. The hairs on my arms raised and my nerves went on high alert. He sounded like he was trying to seduce me.
“Show it to me,” I ordered, balling my hands into fists.
“Okay, Juleasy. As long as you show me what you’ve got right back.” He pushed me against the wall and his mouth descended on mine in a hard, messy kiss. I tried to jerk my head away, but he fisted my hair, holding my head still.
“C’mon, now. You’ve been playing these games for years,” he grunted, his breath heavy with alcohol, his words forced as he tried to contain my struggling. “Everybody knows you like a quick hookup. Now that your booty call is gone, I’ll take care of everything you need. I’ll make it feel good. I promise.” He smashed his lips against mine again. He was like a fish, lips gaping, huge thick tongue wiping at mine. I gagged from the sensation.
The asshole must have mistaken my gag as an invitation because he moved harder, more insistent, and pressed himself against me. I reached up to push him away and he grabbed my hands and wrenched them behind my back, holding both wrists in one hand. I wriggled against him trying to get free and he groaned, pressing his erection into me. I thrashed around, but even though Phil was smaller than Ben, he was bigger than me. And stronger. His grip on my wrist was like a vice.
Pinning me against the door with his hips, he forced his other hand up my shirt and I heard the fabric tear a little as he groped for the lace of my bra. He kept pressing his body into me and my hands were trapped, and his hand was pulling down my bra and his mouth was on mine and I couldn’t move and...
Terrified, I pulled my leg up and kneed him in the nuts with every ounce of strength I had.
Phil released my hands as he doubled over and as much as I wanted to stay and inflict some more pain on him, I wasn’t willing to risk it. I might be feisty, but he was still stronger than me. I flung the door open and ran down the hall, wiping his saliva off my face as I headed for the stairs, trying to readjust my bra and torn shirt.
I passed by several brothers as I walked back into the party. They eyed me—wild-haired, flushed face, swollen lips—and I knew how it must look. They smirked, and elbowed one another, pointing at me. I straightened my spine, looked them in the eye and shot my middle finger at the group.
Marleigh walked over with a frown, not focused on me or my current state of disarray but gesturing toward the front door. “Where have you been? Inter-Fraternity Council is here. They’re shutting down the party for infractions.”
Her lower lip stuck out in a pout, but I only focused on holding back the tears of disgust that burned the corners of my eyes. I’d done much more intimate things with lots of guys, but I’d never felt...so dirty. Violated.
When one of the IFC members on duty turned on the lights and a collective groan sounded from the room, I was relieved I didn’t have to answer her.
“Everyone who doesn’t live here, get gone. Party’s over,” the IFC guy shouted.
People around me complained, but all I could focus on was trying to keep my skin from splitting and revealing everything that I was hiding inside. My insecurity. My fear. My shame.
The IFC members watched as everyone shuffled out. We made our way back to the house and conversations trickled around me—plans for pizza, going to The Shell or watching a movie.
I didn’t join in. I didn’t think I would be able to talk without breaking down. And no one noticed I was silent—that fun-loving Jules
was quiet—and that made me feel invisible. As soon as I was in the house, I walked straight to my room. I stripped off my clothes, threw them in the trash can, and wrapped my robe around my body.
Grabbing a towel and my shower caddy, I crept into the bathroom and barricaded myself in the furthest stall.
With the water turned as far toward hot as the handle would go, I hung my robe and towel on a hook and stood directly under the spray.
And I silently cried as I scrubbed my skin until it was raw.
***
I was in bed, staring into the dark when the phone rang. It was Ben’s number. Even if it was a quick goodnight, he always called. My heart briefly warmed at the thought.
I needed to hear his voice. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to him, how I would be able to tell him about Phil, or even if I could bear to tell him. But I knew that talking to my bass boy would make me feel better.
As I reached for the phone and saw the time, I realized it was a lot earlier than he normally called. I couldn’t remember exactly where he was, but I was pretty sure he was on the West coast and if that was true, the show hadn’t even started yet.
“Hello.” I forced my voice into its normal flirty tone. “It’s a little early for your goodnight kiss.”
“Julie.” Nate’s voice snapped over the phone line like the crack of a whip.
“Nate? Is there something wrong with Ben?”
A million scenarios flashed through my mind in nanoseconds—Ben being attacked again, Ben falling, Ben being hurt in a thousand different ways. He didn’t like to see his disability as a disadvantage, but the truth was, he was vulnerable. I worried about him even if he didn’t worry about himself.
“Ben is fine.”
“Why are you calling from his phone?” I asked. The fear for myself from the events earlier in the night was long gone. The idea of something bad happening to Ben was worse than anything I could imagine.
“I wanted to make sure you’d pick up.” Nate paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m going to make this quick because we go on in ten minutes.”