Rush

by Minard, Tori

  I nodded. A feeling of weight and tension in my shoulders that I hadn’t even been aware of fell away, and I seemed to breathe more easily. It felt good simply to share this stuff, to talk about it to someone who didn’t think I was either crazy or an idiot.

  “Does Trent know about Fred?” I said with a glance at Max.

  “No. At least, I’ve never told him.” He grimaced. “I don’t know what might have been said behind my back, but I think if he knew, he would have thrown it in my face.”

  “Probably.” I was beginning to realize my boyfriend was not only not the great guy I’d first thought but was actually kind of an asshole. “I’m starting to wonder what I ever saw in him.”

  “I really don’t want to talk about Trent,” Max said.

  Well. That was understandable, I guess. But what else could we talk about besides Trent or ghosts?

  “Why don’t you show me some of your designs,” I said.

  We went back into the living room and Max pulled up some of his work so I could see it on his monitor. I didn’t know much about design, but his stuff looked really professional to me.

  “I’m not much of a judge,” I said, “but I think your work is really good.”

  “Thanks.”

  Was he blushing? That was awfully cute.

  “I’m starting to fall behind because of school, though,” he said. “My work load was really picking up before I enrolled and I can’t keep up with it.”

  The beer was making me all warm and floaty and a lot less shy. The ghosts didn’t seem quite so scary at the moment. I tilted my head, looking at him, wondering.

  “What?” he said, smiling.

  “Can we try talking to Retro-girl here?”

  “We could, but it would probably be easier if we try making contact where she likes to appear.” His fingers plucked at the fabric of his jeans. “Of course, if I got through to Carter then maybe she wouldn’t need to bother you anymore.”

  “So are you going to do that? Talk to Carter, I mean.”

  His gaze dropped. He had the most beautiful eyelashes, so thick and long that I wanted to pet them.

  “I don’t know what I’d say to him.” His voice sounded raspy all of a sudden. “I killed him. What can I say now?”

  “I don’t know.” If I hadn’t had a beer, I would have kept my hands to myself, but I was buzzed and my good judgment was shot. I reached out and laid my hand on his arm. “I’ll be with you, if you’d like.”

  He shot me a glance and then looked down again. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to be there for you, after what you did for me.”

  “I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.”

  “Max, that’s not true and you know it. Some guys would have just joined in the fun and a lot of people would have pretended they didn’t see anything.”

  He just kept looking at the floor.

  I squeezed his arm. “You’re a good person.”

  Max snorted. “No, I’m really not, Caroline.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  He finally lifted his gaze to mine. “You really have to ask?”

  “It was an accident. Wasn’t it? If it wasn’t, if you did it on purpose, then tell me. Tell me you meant to shoot him.”

  He pinched his eyes closed. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched, released, clenched again as his mouth briefly contorted. He opened his eyes and looked straight at me. “It was an accident.”

  The expression in those dark-blue eyes was so empty that it hurt me to look at them. But I couldn’t look away. I had a hunch that he needed me to look at him, to hold his gaze.

  “You were just a kid yourself,” I said.

  He passed his hand over his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

  I was pressing him too hard. We barely knew each other, and here I was trying to get him to open up. Lecturing him on how it wasn’t his fault. It just hurt me to see his pain.

  When I’d been with Trent, it had been easy to judge Max, to think of him as someone who could kill for fun. I hadn’t known him at all then. Now, everything was different.

  It must be because he’d stood up for me against those guys. I’d been terrified and he’d protected me. That had changed the way I saw him. But it was too soon to expect him to bare his soul to me.

  I smiled. “Okay. No Trent, no Carter. Got it.”

  So else what could we talk about? The weather? Maybe our respective majors. That was usually a safe subject. Boring, though.

  “So,” Max said. “What do you like to do in your spare time?”

  “Read,” I answered with a sense of relief. He’d found what ought to be a safe subject.

  “You’re a bookworm, huh?”

  I frowned at the surprise in his voice. “Did you think I couldn’t?”

  He grinned. “No, I didn’t think you were illiterate. It’s just most of the sorority girls I’ve met didn’t seem especially—um—intellectual.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not sure my reading material counts as intellectual. I mostly read genre fiction.”

  “Which genres?”

  “Fantasy, romance, sometimes mysteries.”

  He sank to the wooden floor. “I read a lot, too.”

  “Where are your books?” I followed him down to the floor and arranged myself cross-legged. It was a bit drafty down there, but I wanted to be near him.

  “I don’t have many,” he said. “Mostly I go to libraries. I haven’t had a place to keep books for the last few years.”

  “But I thought you lived with Brad and Marie.”

  He shrugged. “I did. But I didn’t want to clutter up their place with a lot of my shit.”

  That was sad. His real family hadn’t wanted him, and when he did find a place, he was afraid to impose on them by actually collecting any physical possessions. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t like it if I vocalized that thought, however.

  “What’s your favorite book?” I said.

  “The Song Of Ice And Fire series by George R.R. Martin,” he said without a second’s hesitation.

  I made a face. “Those are so dark and depressing.”

  “Yeah, but they’re real.”

  “I suppose.” To him, dark and depressing must seem more real because it matched the life he’d led. It was probably wildly inappropriate, but at this moment I very much wanted to take him in my arms and comfort all the pain away.

  “What’s your favorite book?” he said.

  I blushed. “I’d rather not say.”

  “Oh, come on. I showed you mine. It’s only fair for you to show me yours.”

  My face got even hotter. “You’ll laugh.”

  “No, I won’t. Promise.”

  I shook my head.

  “Come on. You can’t tease me like that. You have to tell me.”

  I put my hands over my face, then peeked out from between my fingers. “Fifty Shades Of Grey,” I said as fast as I could.

  He blinked. A slow smile spread over his face. “Isn’t that a naughty book?”

  “Maybe.” I hid behind my fingers again. “Or trilogy. It’s actually a trilogy.”

  “And isn’t there a lot of bondage in it?”

  I nodded. It had seemed strange to me that I could like a story so much when it revolved around a passionate sexual relationship, because I’d never experienced that kind of passion and wasn’t convinced it existed in real life. Now, of course, I knew it did. I had it with Max.

  “Wow. That is so not what I thought you’d say.” He had a big smile in his voice, too, and the timber had changed, gotten deeper.

  “You’re laughing at me.”

  “No, I’m not. Really, Caro, I’m not.” He leaned forward and pulled at my hands. “Don’t be embarrassed. Sex is a good thing.”

  “Says the heathen, devil-worshipping magician guy.”

  He laughed. “Exactly. And I know what I’m talking about.”

  I let him pull my hands dow
n. “You really don’t think I’m some kind of slut?”

  “No. I think you should own your sexuality. Embrace it. It’s not healthy to live in denial.”

  “A lot of people think it’s a really badly written book.”

  He raised his brows. “But you think...”

  “The story was really fun. And that’s what matters.”

  “Well, there you go.”

  Our hands were still clasped. He raised them to his lips and brushed a kiss across my skin.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He smiled at me, and the warmth in his eyes made me tingle all over, the achy butterflies swarming up inside me. “That makes two things we have in common. No, three. Ghosts, folk music, and fantasy fiction.”

  “We’re two weird peas in a pod. Now that I’ve realized how weird I am, I can never go back to my sorority house.” I was kind of kidding, but in a way it was true.

  “A lot of people are gaming these days and there are all those ghost-hunting shows on TV, so I doubt they’d think you’re all that weird,” Max said. “It’s mostly those of us who work magic who get the funny looks.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve gotten a few of those looks. More than a few, actually.”

  “That sucks.” He leaned forward, still holding onto my hand. “You know you can always talk to me about this stuff, right?”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  My arm was stretched out in his direction because of his hold on me. I could have pulled it back, disengaged. Instead, I scooted closer.

  His eyes seemed darker, heavy-lidded and hot as he gazed at me. My pulse sped up so fast I felt almost dizzy. He was going to kiss me. Was he going to kiss me?

  I should leave. Technically, I still belonged to Trent. If Max and I were going to have an affair, I should first break up with my boyfriend. I should definitely leave. But I waited while Max came up on all fours and stalked me like a prowling cat.

  His head tilted, slowly, as he came near. He was once again giving me a chance to back out. I didn’t want to back out and I didn’t want to call Trent to break up with him. I wanted to kiss Max.

  My body leaned a little farther toward his and our lips met. His were soft, warm, coaxing. They clung to mine for an instant and then released.

  I brought my hand up to the side of his face. His perpetual stubble felt scratchy under my palm. Our lips caught again. I opened my mouth and licked him.

  He let out a sigh. We opened to each other at the same time, our tongues sliding, probing, tasting. I pushed my fingers into cool, silky black hair as he pulled me forward into his arms.

  His body was as hard with muscle as I remembered. I put my arms around him, flattened my hands across his powerful back. His shirt was in the way. I slipped my hands underneath it to enjoy the smooth warmth of his skin.

  He clasped the back of my head in one large hand and devoured my mouth, licking and nipping me, plunging his tongue deep. I ached so badly for him I couldn’t contain myself as I wriggled against him. Strange little whimpers and moans escaped me.

  Max lowered me to the floor and stretched himself out, half over me and half beside me. His leg slipped between mine and his hand crept under my t-shirt and slid upward to my breast. I arched into his touch. The ache in my core pulsed and throbbed.

  His thumb brushed my nipple through the thin satin of my bra and a bright bolt of pleasure shot through me from my breast to my core. I gasped. He did it again and I cried out against his lips. My legs moved restlessly against the relentless aching pleasure inside me.

  We were both panting desperately. I could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against my thigh. Weirdly, it excited me even more. I’d never found a guy’s arousal especially exciting until now.

  He pulled up my t-shirt and unclasped the hook on my bra, baring my breasts. I stared up at him in a haze of desire and found him staring back at me. The expression on his face was something I’d never seen on a guy before, awe and reverence overlaying the obvious desire in his eyes.

  Bending his head, he took my nipple into the warm wet of his mouth and sucked. I grabbed onto him with a helpless whimper. It was the best thing I’d ever felt.

  He tormented first one side of me and then the other until I was wildly aroused. When his hand left my breast and slipped beneath the waistband of my yoga pants, the brush of his fingers against my inner thigh brought another moan from my throat.

  “Caroline,” he said raggedly. “If you want to continue this, we should go to the bedroom.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you sure? I want you to be sure.”

  I sat up, my clothes all rumpled and my bra hanging open. “I’m sure.”

  We got up, hand in hand, moving from the bare-bones living room to a bedroom just as sparse. There was nothing in here except a big mattress on the floor and, next to it, a desk lamp on top of a cheap plastic single drawer. Max and I sank to the bed, kissing hungrily and pulling at each other’s clothing.

  “Trent said your pendant is a pentacle. Is that true?” I said, reaching out to touch the beads.

  “Yes and no,” Max said. He pulled the necklace out from beneath his shirt collar.

  The beads were some kind of silvery-black mineral interspersed with the occasional white to clear bead. There were two pendants layered over each other. On the bottom was a silver pentacle and over it a beautiful silver owl in flight.

  “Ooh,” I said softly. “That’s so pretty. Not what I expected at all.”

  “Too pretty for a guy?” he said with laughter in his voice.

  “No. That’s not what I meant. I just thought it would be something like a skull. You know, something all scary and stuff.”

  “Oh, I see. Something ominous, because I’m a sinister master of the occult.”

  I glanced up at him to see him grinning at me. “You’re making fun of me.”

  “Maybe a little. But only in the nicest way possible.”

  I shoved him playfully. “It’s not my fault I don’t know anything about this stuff.”

  “Yeah, but skulls are big fashion nowadays. I’m surprised you don’t have any on your purse. Or maybe a t-shirt with a sugar skull on it. You’re sadly lacking in the trend department, little girl.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. “Am not. Anyway, my mom would probably kill me if I came home wearing something with skulls on it.” Of course, she’d treat me to a long lecture on the mental health dangers of dabbling in the paranormal first. When she was done schooling me, I’d probably be glad to die.

  “You always do what your mommy tells you?” His dark eyes sparkled, crinkling at the corners.

  “Of course not. But I have to pick my battles.” I pressed my fingertip gently to the owl’s wing. “Why do you wear these? Do they mean something in particular to you?”

  He covered my hand with his much larger one. “The pentacle was a gift from Brad and Marie. It represents a number of things, one of them being the five elements.”

  “Five? I thought there were only four.”

  “Earth, air, fire, and water, plus spirit makes five.”

  “Oh. That’s actually kind of cool. What about the owl?”

  He shrugged a little. “You might say it’s my totem animal. I think of the owl as a creature that’s comfortable in the realm of the dead, a creature that sees and understands the hidden parts of existence.”

  My eyes were round now. “Spooky.”

  His other hand cupped the side of my face, his thumb stroking along the line of my jaw. “I don’t think of it that way. It’s just another part of the world, one we don’t usually pay much attention to. But it’s not necessarily dangerous.”

  My gaze drifted to his lips. They were so beautifully cut, just full enough, and every time I looked at them I wanted to kiss them. “The only other person I ever discussed this stuff with was my Aunt Jo. And she’s crazy.”

  “Hmmm. Well, I’m pretty sure I’m not crazy.”

  I’d begun to tingle aga
in between my legs. “What about the beads? Do they have meaning too?”

  He slid his hand to my neck, caressing the sensitive side of my throat. “The black ones are hematite. They’re grounding and protective. The white ones are clear quartz. They have a lot of uses, especially enhancing psychic abilities.”

  I leaned in closer. “I had no idea.”

  He tasted my lips. “Did you know sex is magical too?”

  “No.” I took his bottom lip between my teeth. “That sounds totally wild.”

  “Yeah.” Gently, he cupped my breast. “You can raise a lot of energy that way.”

  His hand found its way between my legs again and I let my thighs fall open with an eagerness I’d never thought I could feel.

  He moaned. “You’re so wet, baby.” Coming from Max, the endearment excited me in a way it never had before. The naughty talk, too. I wished he’d say it again.

  I wanted to touch him, but I was suddenly shy. Instead I let him pet me, brush his fingertips over my exquisitely swollen and sensitive flesh while I quivered and gasped. One of those fingers slid inside me, making me arch my back as my eyes rolled up.

  He moved his finger rhythmically and it felt like a pleasure bomb exploded in my body. I threw my head back with a loud cry. His mouth came down on mine and I shoved my tongue deep into him, trying to take him the way he was taking me. Max groaned as I kissed him, his mouth frantic on mine, as if he wanted to utterly consume me.

  He drew back, his breath coming hard. “I need you, Caro. Please.”

  “Yes.”

  He fumbled in the drawer. A moment later I heard the rip of a condom packet. He rolled it onto himself and I reached down to grasp him and help guide him into me. When my hand closed around him, he shuddered.

  He slid into me. We both moaned. He felt so much better, so much more than any guy I’d ever been with before. Not that there had been many. Just two before him, and they were driven completely from my mind as Max began to move in and out of me.

  The pleasure I’d had earlier was nothing compared to this. I bucked beneath him, my legs wrapping around his waist, my hands clutching his shoulders as he reared over me. He seemed to be hitting every pleasure point in my body, nerves I hadn’t even known I possessed singing with delight.