by Jayne Frost
“You’re drunk,” Mel said, resting her palm on my shoulder to steady me. “What are you doing here?”
“Answer my question first.”
Bracing my hand against the doorframe, I did my best impression of a sober person while she scrutinized me with a small frown.
“You want an answer?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Go home.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Was it?
Hanging my head, I attempted to recall what I’d asked. Inebriated as I was, time had no meaning, so I wasn’t sure how long I stood on Mel’s stoop, staring at my shoes.
Apparently, long enough for her to take pity on me.
“Get in here.” Mel’s fingers twisted in the fabric of my t-shirt before she pulled me inside. “I’m freezing my ass off and I need to get some rest.”
Though I tried to resist—or maybe just thought about it briefly—I let her drag me all the way to the bedroom.
“Don’t you dare throw up on me,” she mumbled, sliding between the sheets.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
As I snuggled beside her, befuddled and totally at peace, my heavy lids closed.
“To answer your earlier question: yes.”
Her soft voice pierced the thin veil of near sleep as she traced a finger back and forth across my forearm.
“’Yes’ what, angel?” I murmured, savoring the scent of her autumn-soaked skin.
“Yes, I missed you.”
I draped my denim-clad thigh over her leg so I could pull her closer. And though every cell in my body came to life, I was too wasted to do anything about it. The funny part? I didn’t care.
“You’re not an appetizer,” I murmured, sneaking a hand under her nightshirt to caress her bare stomach.
“Good to hear,” she said through a yawn. “But the next time you show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, you’d better bring a blanket, because I won’t let you inside.”
Burying my face in her hair, the evening’s tensions fell away.
“Yes you will.”
If she argued the point, it was lost on me. I was already out. Floating on a cloud of cinnamon and surrounded by fall leaves.
Chapter Seven
Whistling to myself, I pulled into the parking lot of the Life Science building.
Over a week had passed since the night I showed up drunk on Mel’s doorstep. I’d woken up completely dressed with a pounding headache. Mel didn’t help matters, reading me the riot act in a tone just below a screech.
But the little experience at Maggie Mae’s proved one thing: I was burnt out. I needed to chill on the partying and recharge my batteries. And since I enjoyed spending time with Mel, there was no reason I shouldn’t take advantage of this little lull.
I’d be back to myself in a couple of weeks. Max. But in the meantime, I could enjoy the awesome sex and great company.
An autumn fling.
Since the girl smelled like a fall day, it seemed appropriate.
Jumping out of my truck, I double-timed it toward the building, checking the clock on my phone. Shit. I was late.
Tonight was Mel’s research study group, something I looked forward to despite the chilly reception I’d received from her buddies the first time I showed up.
My celebrity meant nothing to the science geeks that made up her team. If anything, it was a strike against me. But after the second session, when I’d solved a complex math problem that nobody else could figure out, the group realized I might have something to offer beyond leering at their fearless leader. I wasn’t a member of the team by any means, but at least they stopped treating me like a pariah.
Slowing to a jog when I entered the library, my lips curved into a smile when I spotted Mel at a corner table, surrounded by her ardent followers. She was a rockstar in her own right, she just had a different kind of stage on which to perform.
Mel arched a brow as I strolled up, pointedly looking over her shoulder at the large clock on the wall.
“Sorry,” I mouthed, giving her a wink as I flopped onto the empty chair next to hers.
Our plans were fluid, so no apology was necessary. But Melody rewarded the gesture with a soft smile and a warm hand on my thigh.
Totally worth it.
Her cohorts nodded at me, some even offering smiles.
Only one guy still seemed irritated by my presence: Mitchell, the graduate student with the big mouth and the bigger ego.
Slinging his arm over the back of his chair, Mitch’s mouth twisted in something between dislike and flat out hatred. “Christian, nice of you to join us. We were just discussing human beta cells. I don’t suppose you’ve got anything interesting to share.”
From the way Mitchell looked at Mel, she was the only thing he wanted me to share. And there was zero chance of that happening. Not that she’d be interested in Mr. Crewcut.
Mel’s acid tongue got the better of her before I could reply. “This isn’t Quiz Bowl, Mitchell. Christian doesn’t—”
Brushing my foot against Mel’s under the table to silence her, I pulled a stack of papers from my backpack.
“Well, I’m not an expert like you, Mitch, because—you know—I have a life,” I quipped. “But I did find this article on some diabetes research they’re conducting at Mt. Sinai using stem cells.” I slid the copy across the table. “Take a gander. I’m sure Melody would be happy to explain anything you don’t understand.” Covering her hand with mine, I beamed at her with pride. “Wouldn’t you, angel?”
A few chuckles erupted from the group, mostly hidden behind textbooks or coffee mugs. Mitchell might be a big deal for all I knew. But in this group, Mel was the leader. And she proved it every time she opened that pretty little mouth. The same pretty little mouth I planned on plundering as soon as I got her alone.
Mitch the Bitch dismissed the article with a barely a glance. “This is old news. Its good to know you can use Google, though. That’s always handy.”
Opening my mouth to level the dude, I stopped cold when Mel’s fingers inched toward my crotch.
“Let’s take ten everyone,” she announced, pushing out of her seat. “It’s been a long night.”
Whatever she had in mind was probably better than punching out the geek in front of me, so I gave Mitchell a smug smile and then shoved to my feet to follow my girl.
My girl?
Dismissing the thought as some kind of caveman reaction to Mitch’s presence, I slid my arm around Mel’s waist as we passed Mrs. Thatcher’s desk.
“Where are we going?” I whispered.
Pulling me into the hallway, she looked around like she was casing the joint.
“This way,” she whispered.
Stepping around a yellow cone marked “out of service” in front of the ladies room, a triumphant smile curved her lips when the knob twisted in her hand.
“Melody, do you know what ‘out of service’ means?” I paused in the doorway. “I don’t even want to know what’s in here.”
Walking backward, she fingered the top button on her blouse. “You sure about that, rockstar?”
So, she wanted to play? Even if I had to don a HAZMAT suit, I wasn’t turning that down.
“You threatening me with a good time?” I flipped the lock on the door and then stalked toward her. “That’s not wise.”
Spinning her to face the large mirror in front of the row of sinks, I pressed my chest against her back. She groaned, pushing back against the sizable bulge straining my zipper.
Nibbling the skin at the crook of her neck, I worked the button on her jeans and then slipped my hand inside her panties.
“Fuck, you’re wet.” Sliding a finger inside her slick channel, I ground my erection into her backside. “Looks like I got here in the nick of time. What have you been studying, angel?”
She mumbled an incoherent reply, her hand following mine into her panties.
“No you don’t,” I growled, nipping her ear. “You need to learn to k
eep your hands to yourself.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Exasperated, she fought for control, wiggling her ass to distract me. “We’ve only got a few minutes.”
In the short time we’d been seeing each other, I’d discovered a dozen ways to give the girl an orgasm. But I usually spent half my time trying to keep her from finishing the job herself.
“I’d love to play around with you, but since we’re in a hurry,” I slid her jeans and panties to her knees, “we’re going to try something new.”
Eyes narrowed, Mel tracked my movement in the mirror as I slipped the silk scarf off her neck. “New?”
“Hands behind your back.”
My request was somewhere between a growl and a plea.
Gaze locked on mine, she worried her bottom lip. “Why?”
She knew the answer. I could see it in her eyes. But I didn’t want to scare her off the plan. To Mel, control was almost a religion.
Adopting a playful posture, I rocked my hips, grinding harder against her bare ass. “Why not?” I sucked her earlobe between my lips, my eyes never leaving her reflection. “Tick tock. It’s up to you.”
Slowly, Mel placed her hands behind her back.
“That’s my girl.”
My dick throbbed as I loosely bound her wrists.
“Christian…” Tugging at the restraints, her eyes widened. “I don’t know…”
Locking our gazes in the mirror, my palms sculpted the rigid planes of her shoulders.
“I’ve got you, angel. I promise.” I pressed a kiss to her neck. “Trust me.”
Slipping my fingers inside her hot, wet folds, I found her swollen nub. The worry lines creasing the corners of her mouth faded as my index finger glided over her clit.
“You like that?”
Her eyes fluttered closed as I thrust two fingers deep inside her pussy. “Yes. Oh God…”
Reaching under her shirt, I freed one breast from her flimsy bra. Her head fell back against my chest as she rode my hand, straining to find her rhythm as I pinched her nipple.
“Feel good?”
Need edged the hue of her jade green eyes, along with the ever present worry.
“Don’t…don’t…stop…please…I want...”
Anxiety, her worst enemy at times like this, also became mine. The sooner she let go, gave in to the pleasure I offered, the better.
“Relax, angel.” My thumb began a relentless assault on her clit, applying the gentle, even pressure she craved.
“Feel that?” I growled, pressing my cock against her bound hands.
Curling her fingers around my denim-clad shaft, she nodded.
“That’s for you. All for you.”
My words sent her over the edge. Arching her back as she came, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her muscles clenched around me, dragging me to the brink as wave after wave crashed over her.
“That’s it, baby.” Scoring my teeth along her neck, I continued to massage her g-spot until I was sure she was finished.
Her trembling legs nearly gave out when I pulled away.
Frantically, I searched my wallet for a condom.
“I need to get inside you,” I rasped. “Like, right now.”
Shoving my jeans to the floor, I tore the foil packet with my teeth.
Mel twisted at the restraints, but she said nothing as I rolled the latex into place.
“Easy, baby.” I placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “Lean over for me.”
She did as I asked, tipping forward.
Raking over her body with a feral gaze, a single word tumbled around my head: Mine.
My palm slid from her silky hair to her bound wrists as the notion wrapped around my brain: Mine.
“Christian…?”
Knocked out of my stupor, I cleared my throat.
“I’m right here.” Fisting my shaft, I ran the tip of my cock along her slit. “Tell me you want me, angel.” The evidence of her arousal was all over me, but the voice in my head demanded an answer. When she mewed an incoherent reply, I slid inside an inch. “Tell me, Melody.”
“I want you...I want…“
Burying myself in one thrust, I growled, “This?”
“Yes…yes…harder…please…”
Grasping her hips, I slammed home with enough force to rattle the sink.
I paused, fully seated, admonishing myself for the lack of control.
“Shit. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No…no…I’m good…” Sincerity suffused her tone. “Keep going…do it again.”
My fingers delved inside her slick heat, circling her clit with languid strokes. A strangled moan tumbled from her lips, rewarding me for my efforts.
Grasping Mel’s shoulder with my free hand, I continued to thrum the tiny bundle of nerves as I pounded into her.
Determined to take her with me, I bit out, “Come for me, angel. Let me feel you.”
The soft moans she fought to stifle broke free. She called my name, her walls closing tight around me.
Mine.
Two more thrusts and I stilled, erupting inside her. The aftermath of her orgasm pulled at me as I ground out the last bit of sweet release.
“Fuck baby…” I pressed my forehead to her shoulder blade as I tugged the knot on the sash to untie her. “That was…”
The all-time best sex I’ve ever had. And that’s saying something.
Uncharacteristically silent, Mel cut her gaze to mine out of the corner of her eyes as she dressed, her lips bent in a frown. Maybe she wasn’t as down for this little game as I was, but she seemed to be enjoying it at the time.
Taking her hand, I ran my thumb over the indent on her wrist. “If you wanted me to untie you, all you had to do was say so.”
She smiled, albeit warily. “It’s not that.”
I tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. “What is it then?”
She blinked up at me, concern etching her features. “You don’t want me to touch you?”
“What gave you that idea?”
She cocked a brow, glancing at the crumpled scarf draped over the sink.
Pulling her to me, I brushed a kiss to her pouting lips.
“I’m not worried about you touching me.” Capturing her hand, I brought it to my cheek to prove the point. “I’m worried about you touching you. That’s my job. I’ll always take care of you.”
She pondered, her lips set in a thin line like she didn’t believe me—or, as I feared, she wasn’t on board with the whole restraint thing in general.
I rubbed my neck, my expression neutral. “We don’t have to do it again. I just thought you might like it.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d gone outside the box, played a little game to amp up the tension during sex. With Mel, the extra stimulation was totally unnecessary. The girl had my number in the bedroom. Or the bathroom. Really, any room that she was in—naked—and I was done for. But she was always so impatient, like I might leave her hanging. I thought she might enjoy a little extra spice.
A blush crept into her cheeks as she turned to the mirror to check her makeup. “It was kind of hot. And very ingenious.”
A bit unsettled, I buried my nose in her hair and breathed her in. “Seriously Mel, I’m not going to lie, that was—” unforgettable, “really good, but we don’t have to do it again if you don’t want.”
Spinning around, she rose to her tiptoes and pecked my lips. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I wouldn’t mind trying that again sometime.”
A ringing endorsement, in Mel speak. Which more or less guaranteed we’d be doing it again. And again.
As she led me toward the library, I had to wonder: who was really in charge?
An image of Mel bent over the sink popped in my head. Her. She was definitely in command. But as long as she took me along for the ride, I was good with that.
Mel’s steps faltered as we entered the library. “I think we were gone longer than ten minutes,” she mumbled, picking up the
pace.
My hand fell to her ass as we walked. “You should be thanking me then. It would have been much longer if—”
“Shut up.” Her lips twitched as she stared straight ahead, a deep flush creeping from her collar when I gave her a squeeze.
“Just sayin’.” I pulled her chair out. “Could have been worse.”
Ignoring my chuckle, Mel plopped into her seat and grabbed her diet soda. The smile ghosting her lips turned to a frown as she gazed around the table at her team. Mouths open, they gaped at her. I got the feeling when Mel said fifteen minutes she was usually waiting with a stopwatch.
“What are y’all looking at?” she snapped. “Get back to work.”
When I gave her foot a gentle tap, she softened, shrinking against the wooden chair. A couple of her friends let out audible sighs.
Crisis averted.
While I thought “scary” Mel was hot as hell and only slightly intimidating, her study buddies didn’t share the feeling. Except one. Mitch the Bitch.
Tapping his pen against the table, Mitchell cleared his throat. “We were about to pack it in.” He tipped his chair back on two legs. “But now that you’ve decided to grace us with your presence, maybe we can continue.”
Leveling a withering glare on her cocky research partner, Mel snarled, “I was taking a break, Mitchell. But if you’ve got something better to do, by all means, go.”
Ignoring her little dig, Mitchell’s chair hit the floor with a thud as he appraised her. The irritation was still there, along with something else. Concern?
“You look a little flushed,” he noted. “Is everything okay?”
Squirming, Mel’s gaze met mine before shifting back to Mitchell’s. “’Course.” She shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Shaking his head, Mitchell scowled. “Mostly because you just said 'course' instead of ‘of course.’” Throwing his pen on the table, he ran an agitated hand through his cropped hair. “Maybe your brain’s a little foggy. Have you checked your sugar lately?”
Only my quick thinking kept Mel’s butt in her seat. When she started to rise, my hand clamped down on her thigh. To my surprise, she didn’t fight my hold.