by Claire, Ava
THE TEST (His Dark Lessons, Part Three)
Ava Claire
Copyright 2013 Ava Claire
SMASHWORDS EDITION
The Student, Part One
The Teacher, Part Two
The Test, Part Three
E-book License Edition Notes
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****
"Pull the car over," I said through gritted teeth. "NOW."
For once, Chance Crawford obeyed me.
I always thought that going to Mayor's Glen, the rich suburb tucked outside of the city limits where Alicia lived, was like stepping into another world. Tonight was no different. Lush green trees stretched their arms to the dimly lit night sky, like they were trying to catch a star with their wooden fingers. The road stretched dark and abandoned in front and behind us, isolated except for emerald and bark.
Any other night, driving on this road would have been relaxing; windows down, wind combing through my hair, the sweet musk filling my nostrils. The night sounds of owls and crickets would have been the music that flooded my ears until I hit civilization and decided to crank up the radio. But tonight, the green landscape was alien--along with the guy who was kowtowing to the whims of everyone except the person that mattered.
He put the car in park and in one swift, mad as hell move, I unclicked my seatbelt and threw open the door. I stepped out into the darkness, ready to pace until I wore lines into the asphalt, but instead, my flats sunk into the soggy dirt like quicksand. I let out an angry groan as I wrenched my feet from the muck and stepped onto solid ground, walking in the opposite direction.
"Just where the hell do you think you're going, Cassandra?" Chance yelled after me, the anger in his voice almost grinding me to a halt.
"Back to Alicia's,” I hollered over my shoulder. “Apparently, I owe her a huge apology for standing up for my boyfriend."
Boyfriend. This dark, intensely handsome guy with tattoos snaking up his arms and weaving onto his back didn't really fit the cutesy sounding descriptor. Words like 'mate’ and ‘lover’ seemed closer to the truth; words that evoked passion and trembling knees instead of valentines and first loves. It was easy to forget that once upon a time I’d called him that without hesitation, giving my whole heart and committing myself to him. But that was before the bottom fell out, spilling my hopes and dreams. Ruining that word. Ruining me.
I shied away from the ‘b’ word even when I dated other guys that made it official on Facebook. I never said it out loud after I broke up with Chance. Boyfriend meant being attached. It meant being vulnerable. But I’d called him that at dinner tonight without even thinking about it.
My heart hitched in my chest and without seeing it with my own eyes, I knew that Chance had stopped advancing toward me. The word caught him off guard too.
“Boyfriend?”
I shivered as his deep voice rushed over the syllables, thinking of anything but candy hearts. I thought about how his lips would feel pressed against my heated flesh. I thought about the simmering pull in my lower abdomen that overwhelmed my will to hoof it back to Alicia’s. I thought about turning around and telling him to take me right there in the middle of the road.
"Does that mean we're official?" he probed, words like warm honey as they went down. Even with the insects call I could hear him rock back to motion, each step matching the staccato tap in my chest.
The nearness of him sent goosebumps up and down my arms. The blush that started in my cheeks spread outward, the current of warmth extending to my toes. How did he do it? Chance Crawford made everything else fade to nothing except the stomp of my heart. I was so rapt, so freaking sensitive, that even the slightest touch from him would send me spiraling into bliss.
I let out a tiny gasp as his fingers combed through my windswept hair and all of the dark strands spilt over one shoulder. The goosebumps along my exposed neck stood at attention, waiting with bated breath for what came next. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for strength that evaporated as soon as his lips pressed against the nape of my neck.
"You smell delicious," he breathed into the sensitive flesh, sinking right to my bones. His fingertips were rough and possessive as they drug across my abdomen and pulled me back until I met a solid wall of muscle and the hardened length of his arousal.
My lips parted slightly and ‘you too’ was left unsaid as I felt his cock raging for freedom against the contrast of his steady breathing. I was dialed to a hundred, dangerously close to begging. The earthy notes of the woods mixed with his warm, exotic scent, creating a heady mixture that was as hypnotic as the breaths that went straight to my core.
His fingers wrapped around the last button on my blouse, freeing it. A second was loose. A third. It wasn't until there was only one button holding the fabric together that I finally spoke.
"W-what are you doing?"
"Do you know what hearing you say that word does to me?"
A moan rose in my throat at the urgency in his voice. The white hot need. "Chance-"
The button slid through the sliver of a hole and I glanced down, watching his hand spread across my pale flesh like caramel. His fingers were trembling, like it was a battle just to keep it together.
"Don't tell me to stop." Those forceful fingers were pulling the two sides of my blouse outward, over my shoulders. "I don't think I can. Not with how beautiful you look tonight."
Beautiful. Another familiar word. He'd used it before, but never like this--never like he had to have me, body and soul.
I spun around, staring into his handsome face; the cheeks like chiseled stone, the sharp nose, thick lips and those amber eyes that burned as bright as the stars in the midnight sky.
"Say it again." My voice was so small, a pleading whisper that was almost carried off by the wind.
He cupped my cheeks like I was precious, something that needed to be cared for to keep it from shattering into a million pieces.
"You are beautiful, Cassandra."
His fingers hooked under my chin and tilted it upward. I knew he was only mere seconds from pressing his delicious mouth against mine, but I didn't close my eyes. I wanted to see the emotion that flickered across his face and hold onto it forever.
The kiss was soft, his lips caressing the contours of mine. I opened my mouth to taste more of him and his grip tightened. I took his bottom lip between my teeth and grazed it, an erotic fire lighting in me. He growled and the tenderness became a hungry need as his fingers entwined in my locks and he crushed his mouth onto mine. Nothing had ever been so simultaneously sweet and savage as our tongues dueled, swirling and fighting for more. The cool night air whipped around us and our hands were caught in the cyclone as I ran my fingers up and down his back, raking my nails down his spine.
The kiss ended abruptly but I made no complaints because he was leading me back to the car. The sooner we got back to his place, my place, someplace, we could fulfill the unspoken promises of our bodies.
But he didn’t slide behind the wheel of his car. Instead, he pulled off his jacket and laid it on top of the hood like a blanket.
I hesitated, confused as I clutched my blouse in my fist. “I thought we’d-”
His eyes glinted mischievously. “I’m not waiting twenty minutes to have you, Cass.”
I balked, futilely bringing my crumpled blouse to cover my chest. “Here? Someone could drive by at any second!”
“Then you better stop
wasting time.”
As his eyes bore into me, I felt a distinct dampness spread in my panties. The thought of us hooking up out here had just been a joke. A fantasy. I wasn’t really the kind of girl that had sex on the side of the road. Still, I couldn't deny the fact that every inch of my skin seemed to come alive at the thought of our bodies moving together beneath the stars. But my rational mind wouldn’t shut up. Someone could drive up at any moment. God what if my moth-
“Cassandra.” His stern voice snapped me from my worse case scenario. “It’s no longer a request.”
I took a small, hesitant step, but impatience launched him forward and he pulled me the rest of the way. Nerves danced in my belly as I stood in front of the car, watching lust storm across his face. His breathing was savage as he pushed me backward, my back flush against the hood.
“Chance--”
He didn’t speak, his hands commanding me as he brought my legs up until my knees were bent and my thighs were spread. Without warning, his hand shot up my skirt. I let out a hiss of release as his fingers connected with the moist crotch of my panties. My protests became moans, whimpers as he teased my quivering slit behind the cotton material. I felt the cool kiss of the night breeze as he pulled them to the side then the warm thickness of his fingers as he plunged into my wetness. Right and proper was silenced in favor of sexual need.
My tunnel expanded, stretching as he drove into me. I could have let go right then, just from his skilled assault with the crickets singing around us, but I wasn’t ready to leave that place of sensory overload. I wanted to stay in the moment with him deep inside, his eyes glazed with awe as he watched what he did to me. Watched how I came undone.
When another digit joined the first, my muscles gasped around the new girth, tightening. A moan, low and dangerous, erupted from his mouth. His fingers rotated, finding that piece of bliss inside me and holding on became impossible. Little breathy moans shot from my mouth like bullets.
“I want you close before I take you,” he said thickly. “Right at that peak before I push you over.”
And I was there, careening on the edge and I wanted to say ‘now, PLEASE’, but the only word I could manage was ‘ungh’. I rattled like a leaf in the wind as his fingers pulled from my core and it was a good thing that he steadied me as I stood. Even if it was only for a second, long enough for him to unbuckle his pants before he spun me around and pressed my chest into the soft lining of his coat. God, he smelled good--a mix of the woody and a crisp, bright musk.
“Spread wider for me,” he ordered. His hands tightened on my hips. “Let me in.”
I willed my lower body to move, spreading wider and arching my back slightly. His groan echoed over me and when the tip of his cock roamed up and down my entrance, I couldn’t help but fade into the lust. I forgot that at any moment someone could zip past and see me splayed on the hood of a car. I forgot that I could have just burned bridges at the most awkward dinner ever. I forgot about everything except the throb of anticipation.
Chance drove into me, my slick muscles banding around his engorged instrument as he played my body, demanding more, more until a moan as long and punctuated as a music note rang out of my mouth. His fingers dug into my skin, bordering somewhere between pain and pleasure, creating ecstasy and magnifying everything. I felt it all: the sweat pooling in the valley of my breasts, the knot of my nipples pressing through the lining of Chance’s jacket, the hardened steel of the car’s hood, and the heart that skipped a beat everytime he let out a moan. I was climbing the hill, my body shuddering as I veered close to climax...and light flooded my eyes.
A car.
“We should...st...sto...stop--” The car was coming closer and I should have shrieked with embarrassment, the lights destroying anything but white hot embarrassment, but instead, I blinked into the light, eyes rolling back in my head when his pace didn’t slow. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing but us.
And then I was spinning, floating and writhing as my muscles spasmed, dampness becoming a rushing tide. His grip tightened, muscles locking as his thrusts became wild and feral. He let out a cry of abandon as he released and his bellow echoed through the trees. They almost seemed to shudder and twitch themselves, branches creaking as we gasped for breath.
Both of us moved with frantic speed, remembering we were outside and the next car could very well be a cop looking for something to do. I didn’t bother buttoning up my shirt and Chance looked like a men’s high fashion model in only a blazer; muscles shimmering in the dim light, hair slightly wild as the wind gusted through the cracked window.
He didn't say a word, his attention clearly elsewhere as we pulled back onto the road. Now that we weren't listening to the maddening needs of our bodies, was he still wondering why I stood up for him at all? Was he wondering if he deserved the crow he was fed at dinner?
I reached over and touched his arm but he jerked like I'd just sent an electric current through my fingertips--or like I was the last person on earth he wanted to touch.
I retracted my hand immediately, turning my attention back to the world outside the window. I couldn’t help but take it personal, especially after what we’d just shared.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze. "I just have a lot on my mind."
"Mind sharing with the class?" I said quietly. I meant it as a joke, but there was nothing humorous in my tone and he didn't even crack a grin. I nibbled on my lip and tried to wrangle the frustration that boiled in my veins. Being combative wouldn't do the stifling awkwardness any favors. "Now I'm sorry."
He gave me a hint of a smile, one side of his mouth tugging upward slightly before it flatlined. "It's okay. I’m just still trying to deal with what happened at dinner."
"Well good," I said with a sigh, finally feeling like we'd reached common ground. "Because they had no right to--"
"I'm not talking about your mother or Alicia." He cut in brusquely.
I yanked the front of my shirt closed, my fingers blistering against the buttons. So I was back to playing the villain. "I see."
He made a scoffing sound that was 99% frustration. "I'm not talking about you either, Cass. I'm talking about myself."
I opened my mouth in confusion. Mad at himself? But--I snapped it closed as the why’s settled on me like a wet blanket. For the past fifteen minutes, I'd completely forgotten about his sins.
"I still--" He cleared his throat, like the words were painful as they tried to claw their way from his mouth. I traced the tight line of his jaw with my eyes, dropping to his iron grip on the steering wheel. Even in the dim light I didn't miss his bleach white knuckles.
"I've forgiven you," I offered gently, trying to diffuse the situation. "You know that, right?"
He nodded, a quick dip of his head that I would have missed if I blinked. "And I don't even have the words to describe what that means to me."
I reached over and stretched my fingers over his knee, stroking it until I felt the tight muscles relax. "You're talking like you didn't think I'd forgive you."
“If memory serves, you threatened me bodily harm if you even saw my face again.” His eyes cut to me and the smile on his lips lingered. That dancing warmth returned, flitting across my chest and settling in my core.
“Well you’re not out of the dark yet,” I said, my voice a little too high to be taken seriously and from the laugh that spilled from his mouth, he was far from concerned about the wrath of Cassandra Woods. It probably didn’t help that even with the windows cracked, sex hung hot and sweaty. Still, there was something darker ebbing there too. He needed to hear something other than ‘I forgive you’. He needed to hear that I thought he was a good person. Someone deserving of forgiveness.
But before I could say anything further he powered on the radio, silencing any attempts at further communication.
****
I did a silent fist pump of victory as I stepped off the stairwell. The top floor of the library was pretty much
a ghost town with the exception of a library assistant pushing a creaky book cart down empty aisles. It probably didn’t hurt that Thomas was only a month into the semester and it was 10pm and two hours before the library shut its doors. I preferred to study when I felt like it was just me and the books, the only other sound the whisper of the AC.
I knew better than to tarry and wax lyrical about having the row of cubicles all to myself because the sooner I did my reading and finished up my stats problems, the sooner I could get back to Chance. After our rendezvous on the road back to town, he made it clear that he didn’t want to talk about dinner at all and after my third orgasm of the night, I gave no complaints. He even gave some incentive to up my productivity--he’d have my favorite pizza waiting and for dessert, he’d have me.
I sunk into the seat near the back, unloading my tote bag. By the time I was done, I’d erected my very own Leaning Tower of Pisa. I pulled my Stats book from the top and flipped to the post it tab I used to mark the homework assignment. I picked up my cup of coffee and took a sip as I eyed the first binomial distribution question.
“A study finds that 4% of American teens have unconventional piercings (piercings other than the ear). You randomly sample thirty teens. What is the-”
“Cass?”
The eraser of my pencil froze on the paper at the sound of my name. At the sound of the voice.
Alicia.
I forced my eyes to stay on the page and pretended I didn’t hear the interruption, even though the question could have read ‘blahblahblahblah’ as far as my comprehension was concerned.
She took a step closer and I shot my gaze to where she stood, taken aback when I saw chipped polish and ashy toes. But that wasn’t the tell-tale sign. The neon sign that something was up was the fact she was wearing scruffy black flip flops and they weren’t Rainbows or any discernable brand. I slowly drew my gaze upward, shock making me forget all about dinner. Sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt. Once I got to her bare, makeup-free face, I nearly lurched from my seat.