Kip’s fingers start moving again, this time with more fervor, the heel of his hand pressing more into my clit. He kisses me hard, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth and holding it there. Each time he works harder with his hand, so do I, each of us rushing closer to the edge.
My breaths are shallow, hollow, not a single one of them deep enough to provide enough oxygen. I feel the fire of my orgasm threatening to catch, each new rub of his palm on my clit another spark, another flick of the match. I feel my grip on him loosening, my focus lost, and Kip kisses my neck before growling out his next words against the slick skin.
“This is about you. I want you to come. Come on my fingers so I can taste you.”
“Oh, God.”
His words are so dirty, so unfiltered, they make my knees quiver under the pressure of them. I finally let my hand drop from his rigid cock, my fingers pressing into the slick wall behind me, instead, as I try to find something to hold onto before I fly over the edge of my release.
Suddenly, Kip pulls me up into his arms, bending so I’m cradled inside them before he steps out of the shower, carrying me into his bedroom with my body dripping water and marking a trail along the way. He drops me into the ruffled sheets, his mouth finding my skin in the next instant as he kisses down my stomach, biting the inside of my thighs before his tongue circles around my clit.
Oh. My. God.
If I thought the man knew how to work his hand, it’s nothing compared to how he is with his tongue. It’s like he knows every move to make, every spot to hit, like I drew up a personal map for him and he’s writing the instruction manual. My legs tremble, thighs shaking on either side of his face as his blue eyes watch me like they’re just daring me to come.
I’ve never been one to back down from a dare.
He plunges two fingers back inside me, and just a few curls of them combined with his tongue on my clit sends me spiraling. My toes spread, numb as all the blood in my body rushes to where Kip touches me. My vision grows black, and I have no idea if I’m screaming his name or if I’m completely silent. I feel myself pulsing around him, and my vision comes back just in time to see his grin turn wicked as he keeps his tongue working, his fingers in perfect rhythm, pushing and pushing until every ounce of my orgasm is spilled onto his fingers.
My tense muscles all let loose at once, my legs falling limp, and Kip carefully removes his fingers, causing another tremble. He softly kisses his way back up my body, and when he’s balanced on one elbow above me, his blue eyes hard on mine, he smiles, slipping his still-soaked fingers inside his lips and licking them clean.
Goddamn.
I close my eyes, savoring the feel of that moment, of being desired that much. Kip’s lips are on mine, pushing and eager, his tongue slipping in so I can taste myself there. And it feels a little like an hour, a little like only a second before his warmth leaves me as he moves to grab the towel I’d laid out in the bathroom.
As soon as he’s gone, as soon as his hands are no longer on me, the spell is broken.
My heart ticks up a notch, the thumps hitting harder against my ribcage as the reality of what I’ve done settles in like a slow, cold flood. I watch the water rise higher, knowing it will suffocate me soon, and yet I still can’t move.
I’ve betrayed Erin. I’ve betrayed Kip. I’ve put my own heart at risk. Because now that he’s touched me, now that I know what it feels like to have a piece of him, I want all of him.
I need all of him.
But I can’t have him.
In the moment, I convinced myself that I could. I told myself it would be fine, just let go, just exist with him now — here — in this moment. But here I am, sitting in the cold, merciless flood waters of the truth.
I’m royally fucked.
Kip is still smiling when he emerges from the bathroom, helping me dry off in a warm, fuzzy towel before helping me get dressed in his boxers and a t-shirt. He pulls me into the bed with him, tucking me close with his body in a perfect seam with mine. His knees fold into the space behind mine, his chest hot on my back, his arms wrapped around me like a body pillow.
I still my movements, closing my eyes and holding back the hot tears pooling behind my eyes. I’ve never felt more safe, more at home, than I do in his arms right now.
But he’s not my home.
When he thinks I’m asleep, Kip lets himself drift off, too. I wait until I can say his name without him stirring, and then I peel myself out of his grip, slipping into the living area to redress. I leave his clothes folded on the bed next to him, watching his chest rise and fall as he sleeps for a long moment before I sigh, biting my lip against the urge to cry and crawl back into bed with him.
Then, I leave.
Because I’m Skyler Thorne. And like I’ve told every guy I’ve been with at PSU, Skyler Thorne doesn’t sex and sleep.
Though for the first time, I want to.
And that’s the worst part.
“YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’RE on Cloud Mystery Man.”
Erin’s voice jars me from where I’m working on separating and stapling the packets for this week’s Panhellenic meeting, and I pause, eyes meeting hers. My brows pull inward as I try to decipher what she means.
“What?”
Erin smirks, tucking her dark blonde hair behind one ear. She’s typing away on her laptop, working on her agenda for the meeting, but her eyes hold mine for a moment before they return to the screen.
“You’ve got that look. That one that says there’s a boy.”
My eyes pop open wider, and Erin doesn’t even look at me when she chuckles at the response.
“Don’t worry,” she says quickly. “I’m not going to press you on telling me who it is. I’m just saying, you had your heart broken by Grayson at semi-formal, and you popped back so quickly.” One of her neatly manicured eyebrows lifts. “That doesn’t happen unless there’s someone else helping speed the healing process.”
Heat sparks on my neck, crawling up to my cheeks as I let my eyes fall back to the packet I’m assembling. Flashes of Adam hit me hard, my stomach fluttering at the memory of his hands on me last night. We’re in Erin’s room now, but I know that just down the hall, the long board Adam made me sits propped beside my bed.
She’s right.
I am on a cloud, floating high and free, intoxicated by what it feels like to be with Adam. He touched me last night like no one ever has — patiently, adoringly, like all he’d ever wanted in his life was to have that pleasure, and now that he was experiencing it, he would take his time memorizing every minute, every second.
My eyes flutter close, a soft smile spreading on my lips as I remember how he looked staring up at me, his mouth on the most sensitive part of me. I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to taste him so badly it hurt, like the lady version of blue balls. But, Adam’s taking his time with me. He’s moving slow, and not with the same, false intentions that Grayson had said he wanted to move slow with. He’d been getting some on the side.
No, Adam is mine, even if we aren’t official yet.
… right?
I swallow at the possibility that he might be fooling around with someone else, though I know in my heart that it couldn’t be true. Still, if he is only faithful to me… then why can’t we just be together?
I’ve asked myself that a hundred times.
I believe him when he says he wants to move slow, when he wants me to focus on me, but then he goes and makes me a personalized long board. He holds my hand, he calls me every single night and texts me all through the day.
He’s my boyfriend by all accounts… except the public admission.
“I think I just saw every single possible girly emotion cross over your face in a span of twenty seconds.”
I snap my head toward Erin, forgetting she was even in the room until the moment she speaks.
She smirks, shaking her head. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
I let out a breath, returning her smile. Erin and I haven’t
hung out in a long time — not like this. I was surprised when she texted me this morning — or rather, very late last night — asking me if I had some time to help her prepare for the meeting this week. She wanted to catch up, she said, and I was excited to get some time alone with my Grand Big.
Still, what can I even say? If I tell her about me and Adam, she’ll be the first one. And she’s Skyler’s Big. Will she understand, will she question when Adam and I started to feel this way? He never cheated on Skyler with me… but then again, he did kiss me less than a week after they broke up.
My stomach turns.
“Have you ever been in love?” I ask Erin instead of divulging my situation.
She pauses, her fingers hovering over her keys for a moment before she starts typing again.
“Once.”
“Kip?”
Erin nods, her eyes softer now, tinged with a hint of sorrow.
“He was the first boy I ever loved… the only one. But, I messed it up.”
I watch her with a sympathetic gaze, though I can’t say I agree with her plan to get him back. Tangling Skyler up in her mess doesn’t seem fair to me. But, Skyler is a big girl, and she agreed to it on her own free will. I keep telling her I’m here if she wants to talk about it, encouraging her to call it off if she needs to. That’s all I can do — be there. I can’t make the decision for her.
And watching Erin now, noting the sadness in her features, I know she must feel like this is the only way. I try to put myself in her shoes. If Adam slipped out of my grasp, would I ever do something as crazy to try to get him back?
I know that answer without even asking the question aloud. I would. In a heartbeat.
I’d do whatever it took.
“Do you think your plan will work?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I hope, of course. I think it will. But it’s hard to say. Until I have him alone, until I see what it feels like to be with him, I can’t be sure.”
“What do you mean?”
Erin presses her lips together, thinking. “Well, if there’s anything I’ve learned in my dating experience, it’s that if a guy wants to be with you — really wants to be with you — then he will be. So, if after Skyler pulls this off, Kip doesn’t show interest? Well, then I’ll know.”
Though I hear what Erin says about Kip, I can’t help but think about Adam.
He says he wants to be with me, that I mean everything to him… but he also says we should wait. He says I need to focus on myself.
Is that really what he means?
Or is it that he doesn’t want to be with me at all?
I swallow, mind racing.
What if he just doesn’t want to hurt me?
The thought grows from nothing, but sprouts to life like Jack’s magic bean stalk, flying high into the sky and past the clouds with its realness. It’s something Adam would do — keep me at a distance, do everything he could to be there for me and help me heal. He cares about me, that much is easy to see… but does he really want to be with me?
If he does, wouldn’t he already be with me?
“Do you really think it’s that simple?” I ask Erin. “I mean, what if you knew Kip cared about you. What if you were hanging out and he was telling you everything you needed to hear, but he wanted to wait a while before making things official. Would you wait?”
Erin scoffs. “Hell no. I mean we’d date, of course. But once the feelings were there for me? I’d ask him if he felt the same. And if he did, we’d be together. It’s that simple. I’m not down to play that what are we bullshit. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “I’m too grown to play those games.”
My tongue is thick and sticky in my mouth, impossible to swallow past.
Erin’s eyes flick to me, her brows pinching together when she notes my expression.
“He’s toying with you, isn’t he? Your Mystery Man.”
I don’t respond.
Erin sighs, closing the lid on her laptop to face me completely. “Look. Here’s the truth. You want it?”
I just look at her, still unable to speak.
She dips until her eyes are at the same level as mine, a mixture of sympathy and hard-hitting realness reflected in her gaze. “The truth is, if you’re not sure what you are to him, then you’re nothing. A man who wants to be with you will be with you. Period. He won’t be able to stomach the thought of anyone else being with you, therefore, he’ll make you his. If it doesn’t make him sick not to call you his girlfriend, if he doesn’t feel some kind of sense of urgency to claim you, to mark you as his own, then he doesn’t really want you. He’s waiting for someone better to come along. He’s getting what he can out of you because you’re there, and he knows he can, but in the end?” She shakes her head. “Men are quite simple to figure out. And trust me when I say if he loved you, or even liked you — you’d know. There wouldn’t be anything to question.” She sits back, shrugging simply, as if it was all common sense. “A real man would never make you question what you mean to him.”
Her last sentence hits me like a hot, deadly bullet to the chest. I lose my next breath at the impact of it, simply staring at her without a word to offer in response.
Because she’s right.
It makes sense. Adam wants me to take time to “find myself” again, or whatever. But I can do that with him. I can be his girlfriend and still take time to heal. In fact, why wouldn’t he want to be a bigger part of that?
He has the power to heal me, and yet he’s only using part of it.
It’s not that I don’t see the value in being alone, in taking time to reconnect with myself… but the thing is, I’m not alone. We text all the time, call every night, hang out alone, and do very girlfriend-slash-boyfriend things.
Like stick our tongues down each other’s throats.
And lick places not seen by the sun.
He’s with me, in practically every sense of the word, and I’m not going to let him play this game.
As soon as I realize it, as soon as I make the decision, I’m up off the floor, shaking out my achy legs from sitting crosslegged for so long.
“I need to run an errand real quick,” I say to Erin, casting a quick glance in the mirror at my hair. It’s messy, my cheeks flushed, but I don’t take time to fix it. “You okay for a little bit? I’ll be back.”
Erin smirks, like she knows, and opens her laptop again. “I’ll be here, Grand Little. Just going to stop by Skyler’s room here in a bit and see how her morning with Kip went.”
“Okay,” I say, not even really hearing her over the rushing rapids in my ears. “I’ll be back.”
Then, I’m flying down the stairs, out the door, and down Greek Row. My eyes are hot on the Alpha Sigma house, the words I’ll say forming in my head so quickly that they disappear before I can practice them and get them on my tongue, ready to throw at Adam. But it doesn’t matter. No matter how I say it, I will demand answers — and I won’t leave until I get them.
I knock hard on the door, annoyed when it doesn’t just open at the push of my hand. It’s a fraternity house, for God’s sake. They never lock their door. Beating my fist harder, I keep knocking and knocking, still to no avail.
The sun is setting off in the distance, the air growing cooler with its descent as Greek Row is cast in a low, orange light. Walking around to the backyard gate, I peek through one of the slits in the wooden planks, finding no bodies there, either.
Weird.
When I knock directly on his bedroom window without an answer, I give up, huffing as I rip my phone from my pocket.
- Hey. We need to talk. Where are you? -
But he doesn’t answer.
Not that minute, not that night, not even that week.
And with each passing day, with each minute that goes by with him ignoring me, acting like what happened between us Friday night was nothing, I get the answer to my unasked question — louder than I wanted, with a harsher reality than I could have imag
ined.
He got into my pants, and just like Clay, he disappeared.
Without a word.
Without so much as an I’m sorry, I can’t do this. Without an explanation. Without a care that he would break my heart in the process, just like every boy to touch it before him.
And suddenly, all the bullshit he served me on his shiny, golden platter rolls in my stomach, threatening to come back up.
I thought, when I was ready, I could fall into his arms and trust that he’d be there to catch me. But the truth is much harder to swallow.
The truth is, I fell a long time ago.
And Adam was never really there.
Legacy takes place during the same semester as Black Number Four. Whether you’ve read it before now or not, you’ll get a wider view of what was happening at Palm South University (especially between Kip and Skyler) if you read Black Number Four as you read this season. I will help guide you, letting you know which chapters to read before moving on to the next episode.
FOR THE FULL READING EXPERIENCE FOR THIS EPISODE, READ CHAPTERS 6-8 IN BLACK NUMBER FOUR BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO EPISODE THREE. (You’ll get to see how Skyler felt when Kip asked her for the date, experience the first date from Kip’s point of view, and get inside his head for their first sexual encounter. Ow oww. ;) )
TWO-HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN.
That’s how many hours have passed since I went to the Alpha Sigma house, seeking Adam, needing answers. That’s how many hours have passed since I sent him a text, telling him we needed to talk. That’s how many hours have passed, and I haven’t heard a single word from him — not a date, not a phone call, not a text, not even a stupid smoke signal.
Nothing.
And now, on the precipice of a holiday centered around love, all I feel in my heart is bitter, icky resentment.
“I hate Valentine’s Day,” I say to Skyler, for probably the fifth time this week, as another romantic comedy starts on her television.
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