Flirting with Disaster

by Andra Lake

  Flirting with Disaster

  (Ian Crawford, #2)

  by

  Andra Lake

  Published by Nuit Rouge Press, 2013

  Text copyright © 2013 Andra Lake

  www.andralake.com

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  About the Author

  Chapter Five

  I walked down the hall and through the rest of the house with my head held high, and I must have given off a don’t-fuck-with-me vibe because not one single guy hit on me. In fact, they stepped out of the way for me as I passed. Outside, the air was cool without my alcohol blanket and not for the first time, I wished I’d at least worn a sweater. Why had I let Melissa drag me out tonight?

  And to what had ended up being a spanking party, too.

  I halted at the bottom of the steps to the front door, realizing I had no idea where to go. How was I going to get back to the dorm? This night was going down as one of my worst. Except for the little bit of fun I’d had with Ian.

  No—don’t even go there.

  I peeked over my shoulder at the closed door of the mansion, both grateful and annoyed that he hadn’t come barreling out after me. Even though I’d verbally slapped him in the face, and used him for sex favors before that, I still expected him to do the chivalrous thing and make sure I got home okay. No wonder he was so confused.

  Just then, a cab stuffed with a whole new crew of spankers and spankees pulled up at the mansion, all laughing and half-cut as they pushed each other out the doors. Sighing with relief, I ran down the front walk to claim the cab before it took off. I didn’t really feel safe until we’d pulled away from the mansion and I could settle low in the seat and simply watch the streetlights go by. The entire ride back to my dorm I focused on anything besides the events of the evening. I wasn’t ready to let my mind go down that road—not until I was alone in my dorm room. Hopefully Melissa would get back late and I wouldn’t have to fill her in on my night…or hear about hers.

  The short walk through campus to the block and my building was embarrassing. No longer was I this carefree college girl going out to a party with her roommate—I was doing a walk of shame. I crossed my arms against the cold and ignored the calls from the guys in the lounge as I walked into the building, headed straight up the stairs. The last thing I needed was to get any more attention from this stupid outfit.

  After I locked the door behind me, I changed into pajamas and tossed my blouse and knee-highs in the laundry hamper. The skirt I left on Melissa’s desk chair where I couldn’t see it. Then I brushed my teeth and turned out the lights and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin.

  That’s when reality hit and I could no longer ignore the facts: I’d let Ian Crawford spank and fuck me with a paddle.

  I groaned and covered my heated face. What had I been thinking? Why had I done it?

  Because Ian Crawford was like a drug that made you so stupidly turned on, you did things you wouldn’t normally do.

  He was sexy and dangerous and when he’d looked at me like that, his finger tickling my thigh, I’d felt like I was the only girl he’d ever wanted. I’d felt like he needed me to breathe—and I’d been desperate to give him whatever he needed. It wasn’t until I’d come down from the high of my orgasm that I’d been sensible enough to realize what happened and leave before he gloated or asked me to reciprocate.

  And the orgasm itself... Well, that had been amazing. The only other ones I’d experienced had come from my own hands and a dildo my best friend bought me for my seventeenth birthday. It had been one of those “gag” gifts we both knew I’d use. She’d lost her virginity to her boyfriend the year before and wanted me to get on it so we could talk about our experiences together. Turning the dildo onto vibrate and stroking myself gently, I’d gotten too hot to care in only a matter of seconds and came almost instantly. I’d then experimented with putting it inside me.

  Tonight, however, had been the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. With the paddle inside me and Ian’s fingers between my legs, I’d finally craved having sex. I’d wanted to know what it would be like to have Ian inside me. If he’d removed the paddle handle and inserted his cock, I would have let him. If he’d asked me to beg him, I would have—and unashamedly, too.

  I closed my eyes tightly, finally understanding how Vanessa felt. I couldn’t escape Ian. Not only was he my RC, he was my partner in our History of Music seminar. And we knew people in common. A bitter Ian, an Ian that felt like he’d been ditched with the biggest case of blue balls known to man, might be quick to tell the story of what happened between us. Even if I tried to deny it, a lounge full of guys had seen me in schoolgirl attire, and the reason Ian had showed up at the party was that his buddy saw me there. If the story got out, I was sure at least half of the student population would be willing to believe him.

  I cursed at my ceiling. Like Vanessa, I’d done something stupid and set myself up for a hard year.

  As much as I hated the idea, only choice was to go back to Ian and beg him not to tell people what had happened between us.

  ***

  I had a restless sleep. My mind wouldn’t shut off and bounced between the events of the night and what might happen when I talked to Ian tomorrow. I kept expecting Melissa to come home any minute, but she still wasn’t home at noon when I finally made myself leave the dorm. I sent her a quick text message asking how her night was and then left for the RC area. My stomach rumbled not just because I was starving, but also because I was beyond nervous to see Ian. If I were him, I’d be pissed.

  At the main floor of the building where I would usually take the door outside, I continued down into the basement. Supposedly the RC’s lived under ground where the four buildings of the block were connected. I’d expected miserable dark tunnels, but to my surprise it was well lit and a step up from where the rest of us lived. Situated under the courtyard of the block and in the center of the basement was a glass room with couches and loungers and different games tables—pool, foosball, stick hockey. Televisions were suspended from the ceilings. It was obviously the Resident Coordinators lounge, but it didn’t have a communal kitchen like ours. Various plants and flowers lined the hallways alongside the lounge.

  As I wandered the halls, it became clear that besides the four Resident Coordinator rooms, there were only two conference rooms and a maintenance room under the block. The door labeled with a “2” was open and I poked my head to see the RC Candice at her desk in what looked to be an office. She glanced up when she noticed me in the door and smiled.

  “Hey, I’m Alexis. I’m actually coming to see my RC Ian. Do you know which room is his?”

  “Ian’s in four,” she said, pointing through the glass lounge to the opposite side of the floor.

  “Okay thanks.” I hesitated before leaving. “This area is super nice. Do you all have your own kitchens?”

  “Yep and our own bathrooms.” She grinned. “We basically have our own apartments. It’s pretty sweet.”

  “Nice.”

  I left her and continued down the hall, around the glass lounge and toward the room marked ‘4’. As I neared Ian’s cl
osed door, my nervousness grew until my palms turned sweaty. Maybe I should just turn around, I suddenly thought. He might not even be home or might still be asleep. Waking him up could make him even angrier. For all I knew, he stayed out late at the party and was sleeping in.

  No, I’d come all this way. I just needed to get it over with.

  Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door. I heard movement on the other side and briefly closed my eyes before the door swung open…and there he was in all his Ian glory. Wearing only flannel pajama bottoms, his bare chest muscular and smooth. He arched an eyebrow and cocked a hip against the doorjamb, crossing his arms as a wave of dark hair fell over one eye.

  “Can I help you?”

  My heart rate instantly picked up. I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Interesting. For what exactly?”

  My fingers knotted together and I began to fidget. What exactly was I apologizing for? Walking out on him? The snarky remark I’d made about him using people before I walked out on him? Not reciprocating?

  “Everything last night,” I hedged.

  His eyes narrowed. “If you’re sorry it happened, then why are you here?”

  “Um...” I looked over my shoulder, worried someone might hear us. “May I come in?”

  He hesitated for a moment, his large frame blocking the entrance, but eventually he walked back into his study and allowed me to enter. As I closed the door and turned to face him again, he reclined in the chair behind the desk and put his hands behind his head. The desk faced the door much like a professor’s might, and now I understood why their suites were oriented this way: so students could stop in and have a chat with their RC.

  I sat down in the wooden chair in front of his desk and tried not to glance around. His bedroom door was open on the left and I could see an unmade bed with a blue duvet and two guitars resting on stands in the corner. To my right was a pristine kitchen.

  “What can I help you with, Miss Watson, or did you come here to check out my pad?”

  I laughed. “Your pad?”

  He didn’t find it funny. His eyes flicked to the open texts in front of him. “As you can see, I was in the middle of studying. But as your RC I am always happy to make time for you.”

  For some reason, the words stung. As my RC, not as my lover from last night...or even my friend.

  I cleared my throat. “Last night was a mistake. I had a few drinks and they went to my head. I’m not sure what got into me.”

  His lips twitched. “I do. Pretty sure it was a paddle handle.”

  Heat flooded my cheeks and I balled my hands into fists. What a jackass! I shot him a glare, no longer feeling bad for last night.

  “I’m here because of the rumors going around about Vanessa. I don’t want what happened to her to happen to me. I don’t want you telling people about what happened to us.”

  “I see.” He shoved hair out of his eyes with a hand before returning it to the back of his head. “Only I didn’t tell anyone what happened between Vanessa and me. We were caught.”

  “Nevertheless, I’m asking you to keep what happened between us a secret.” I narrowed my eyes, hoping I looked intimidating for my next sentence. “Besides, if you were to tell anyone, it would only make you look bad as my Resident Coordinator.”

  Ian’s eyes narrowed as well and he sat forward suddenly, all four legs of his chair hitting the floor with a thump. “I don’t appreciate being threatened. And do you really think the only reason I’d keep what happened between us quiet is to save my own skin? Regardless of what you might think, I don’t need to go around bragging to everyone about what happened between us.” His green eyes flashed. “You’re not the first girl I’ve been with.”

  But you’re the first guy I’ve been with. My breath left me in a whoosh. I was such an idiot. Here I was, embarrassing myself in front of him by asking him to keep something a secret, and for all I knew it was nothing to him. Just another Friday night. I was just another girl that had fallen for his sexy and dangerous act.

  “Right.” I stood up awkwardly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” he said coldly.

  I started to leave but he called me back. When I turned around, he was closing his eyes as if he regretted it.

  “Yes?”

  He hesitated, and I had the feeling he was adjusting what he’d been about to say. “If you ever need to talk, my door is always open. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “You said that already.”

  He nodded. “Have a good day.”

  Outside his closed door, I leaned against the wall and took a minute to catch my breath. My emotions felt jumbled, my hands still sweaty. I climbed the staircase in a daze and when I opened the door to our room, almost collided with Melissa, who was heading to the bathroom wearing a robe and holding her shower caddy. She looked surprised for a moment and then smiled mischievously.

  “There you are, you little slut.”

  “Hey—what?” My heart skipped a beat. She was still smiling and I was pretty sure it was meant to be some kind of bonding thing, but it only weirded me out.

  “Gary and I were getting drinks in the kitchen and Ian came barreling through, asked if I’d seen you. He looked super stressed out.” Her smile grew freakishly large. “You got with him, didn’t you?”

  I laughed awkwardly and passed her, pretending to check out a book on my desk so she couldn’t see my face. When I spoke, I tried not to sound too interested. “He was looking for me?”

  “Yeah. He saw me and headed straight toward me. Then I think he took off outside. It was really weird. He’s hot, but weird.”

  So he had looked for me. I felt Melissa’s eyes on me and glanced up. She had her arms crossed, one dark brow arched expectantly.

  “How did it go with Gary?” I asked.

  And then she smiled, all judgment slipping from her features as she mooned over her drama crush. “He’s so cool and sophisticated. And oh so hot. I’m going to the next party they have too.”

  I bit my lip. “So did you let him spank you?”

  She grinned. “Yeah, I did. Behind one of those screens. Now what about you?”

  Part of me really wanted to confess—to have someone to share the experience with—but I didn’t want to get our RC in trouble. And it wouldn’t really be fair considering the talk I’d given him this morning. And Melissa wasn’t exactly the best person to trust. So no, telling her wasn’t an option.

  “I had a few beers and talked to Ian and stuff and then left.”

  “Hmm.” Melissa made a noise like she didn’t believe me.

  “What?”

  She shrugged, swinging her shower caddy casually. “He just seemed worried like there was more going on is all. Like maybe you fought about something.”

  “Naw.” I waved her off. “I barely know him. I have no idea what all that was about. Maybe he was drunk.”

  “Okay then,” she said in a disbelieving tone. “I’m going to go have a shower.”

  The moment the door closed behind her, I collapsed on the bed and pulled my pillow over my head.

  Chapter Six

  “Studying every known culture, we’ve discovered that they have something in common: they all have their own form of music. A culture’s music is influenced by a number of factors...”

  I tried to stifle a yawn in my 8 a.m. History of Music class lecture and took another bite of banana. Ever since my stomach had rumbled and disrupted everyone around me, the fruit had become my go-to breakfast. Secretly I also liked the idea that Ian might bananas for breakfast and that’s why he’d one in his bag to give me and it was practically like we were having breakfast together when I ate one. But that was a conversation for me to have with a therapist.

  We hadn’t spoken since our confrontation. I had seen him, though—once we even passed each other in the hallway. I’d seen him coming a mile away, that dark head of hair and piercing green eyes, and my heart had kick-started into actio
n. As we neared each other I’d agonized over how to smile and what to say if he stopped to chat, but he’d just breezed on past as if he had a million things on his mind and hadn’t noticed me. That same night I saw him at our weekly residence meeting. Maybe it had just been my imagination, but I’d tried making eye contact with him and smiling several times throughout his speech, only to have him look at someone else or ignore me completely. He stuck around for a while chatting with everyone, but there was no chance for him to say anything to me specifically even if he wanted to—which I was starting to find doubtful.

  It had taken approximately three days for me to admit that I wasn’t really angry with Ian. Three days to come to terms with the fact that I’d enjoyed what had happened between us at that party. Three days to realize that I didn’t hate him like I thought, far from it—I liked him. A lot. More than I’d ever liked any guy ever. To the point that I was eating bananas in the hope that it was his favorite fruit and we had something in common.

  And now he most likely hated me.

  I’d never felt this way before, but now I knew what people meant when they said love makes people stupid. Here I was in the class I’d been looking forward to since I registered in spring, and yet my eyes kept traveling over the backs of hundreds of students’ heads looking for Ian. And I knew he had his own lounge area, but a few nights this week I’d gone down to my own lounge just to check if he was there playing guitar like Lena had once mentioned. Sometimes I even dragged my feet through the courtyard of the block, hoping to run into him.

  I was completely and utterly lusting after Ian Crawford.

  The entire situation was making me a killjoy. During dinner Tuesday, I pushed my food around my plate, unable to coax myself into eating any of it.

  “What’s up with you these days?” Lena asked. “Classes not everything you hoped for and more?”

  “What? Oh, no. They’re fine.”

  “Then why do you look like your boyfriend just broke up with you and made off with your dog?”