by Ella Fields
I bit my lips, but he could still read the smile in my eyes and returned it with that devastating grin. As I walked past, every muscle stiffened in preparation for an attack. But besides the brushing of his fingers over mine before he closed the door, nothing happened.
I couldn’t decide whether I was disappointed or relieved.
Standing on the edge of a dark brown low-pile rug, I absorbed my fascination’s lair. His bed was dark, almost as black as the floor-to-ceiling shelving lining two of the walls. Inside them lived so many books it was not so much a bedroom but half a library.
I swore I had a mini orgasm. My feet carried me across the rug, bypassing the monstrous four-poster bed with its luscious-looking inky black bedding to a set of glittering spines.
I reached out to trail my finger over them, but a warm burst of air, coupled with the firm heat meeting my hip, stopped me.
My hand fell to my side, my body softening and stiffening under his touch, yet my eyes wouldn’t unglue themselves from the books.
His hand trembled when a weird noise escaped, traveling with my next exhale. “Like what you see?” A finger on his other hand gave the loose strap over my shoulder a nudge, and it slipped down my upper arm. “I know I do,” he said.
At the same time, I said on a stuttered breath, “So much.”
He paused, another chuckle filling my ear. The dark, caustic rasp evoked a shiver that elicited a rumbling groan, goose bumps pebbling every exposed piece of my skin. “A book lover, I presume.”
“Yes,” I whispered, falling back into him.
His lips ghosted over my shoulder, featherlight. I felt my knees buckle. As if he could, too, his large hand squeezed my hip, the other trailing fingers down my arm. “Can I touch you?”
The question both shocked and thrilled me. Shocked because I expected him to take, wanted him to, and thrilled because, well… duh. “Please do,” I said, thinking I might perish on the spot when his hand crawled under the worn cotton of my tank, sliding across my stomach.
“Did you purposely come over here without a bra?”
His voice was hypnotic and low, heating my flesh and searing my ability to think. “Um.” I swallowed thickly. “Well, yeah.”
His hand crawled up, up, up until it was wrapped firmly around my breast. A harsh squeeze accompanied a harsher rush of expelled breath. “Christ,” he muttered. “It fills my hand completely.”
Then I felt him. He shifted closer, aligning the bottom half of his body with mine.
He was so hard, and I was beyond terrified. What if he asked me… “On the bed,” he said, interrupting my panic. “And worry not, I won’t be fucking you.”
I tried not to scowl as he released me, suddenly freezing in his absence. If only for mere seconds before I was lying on silken sheets, and he was crawling over me.
He sleeps here. I took a moment to let that sink in. Every night, he laid this close to me.
“I’m guessing you’ve never made out with someone, let alone found yourself in someone else’s bed, have you, Red?”
I snapped out of my imaginings as the real thing, flesh and bone and moonlit muscle hovered above me, staring. I couldn’t talk, didn’t trust myself to. So I shook my head, the sliding of my hair over his soft pillowcase too loud in my ears, just like my heartbeat.
His lips parted slightly, green eyes glowing as they flitted over my features. “How about another first?”
I was going to die. I was sure of it. “You tripped me.”
What.
The.
Fuck.
Of course, I would screw up what could be the only chance I had to make out with Jude Delouxe in his bedroom. This could be the only time I ever stepped foot in his room or laid beneath him on a bed, hoping he’d kiss the life from my lungs, and I just had to go and blurt something stupid.
But it wasn’t stupid. I knew that, and so did he.
Still, I laid as still as soon-to-be roadkill, hoping the truck wouldn’t squash me all the while knowing it would.
“I thought you were someone else,” he finally said, though he was smiling.
Why was he smiling? Ugh, his face looked so delicious as it was, but when he smiled, I wanted to lick its perfectness.
“Liar,” I hissed, about ready to squeeze my eyes closed forever or punch myself.
Across my lips, his whispering laughter traveled as his head lowered to mine. “Let me catch you,” he murmured, nudging my chin back with his nose to kiss my neck. “Albeit, rather belatedly…” He parted my legs, his hand slipping inside my sleep shorts and panties.
Oxygen fled my lungs on a hoarse breath. Fingers. Thick, gentle fingers were touching me, parting me. My thighs both widened and clenched on impulse, and I heard him mutter something that sounded like, “Holy mother of sweet hell,” before his mouth latched onto my neck and sucked, hard.
Sweet hell was right. Anxious, I laid there, wanting to coast along the pleasure he was wringing from my body. He introduced me to feelings and sensations I’d never felt before, and all he was doing was touching me.
Yet terror at what he might think of me being all wet, of my innocence, and wondering what it was I should be doing, kept me stiff as a board.
“Relax,” he whispered, releasing my neck and pressing soft kisses to the curve of my shoulder. “You feel so good, Little Red. Breathe and allow me to make you feel just how good.”
At hearing those words, feeling their honesty with every touch of his fingers and lips, I was a pile of goo within seconds. My stomach tightened, and an odd buzzing erupted from somewhere far, far away. Heat gathered low, my legs twitching.
Jude’s lips roamed up my neck, teeth nipping at my chin, and then he was staring down at me, watching me with different eyes. Those bottle-green eyes were heated and hooded. His nostrils flared a little. His hair sprinkled down over his forehead.
Tentatively, I reached up to push it back, and he groaned.
He wanted me.
Not only did he want me, but I could feel the tension coiling inside him, the hunger he was keeping leashed.
He wanted to devour me.
And so he did. He kissed me, hard and deep, and then he was between my legs, his hand leaving to rid me of my shorts and panties.
“Jude,” I said or tried to say. For it was so choked, I didn’t think he heard me over the sound of his throaty groan when he spread my thighs apart.
I stiffened again, about to sit up, but then his mouth was on me, his tongue doing exactly what his fingers had been just moments ago.
I melted and mewled, stars bursting among the shadows on the molded ceiling. “Shit.”
His laughter rumbled against my skin, his hands wrapped around my thighs, and then I started to shake. I’d given myself enough orgasms to know what was happening, but that still didn’t prepare me for the onslaught of pleasure that ransacked my body from head to toe.
My hand slapped over my mouth as a garbled moan left it, and my legs tried to squeeze Jude’s beautiful head.
I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes until I opened them to find him gazing down at me once more. “You’re fucking delicious.”
I was breathing as though I’d just ran a half marathon. His eyes darted to my breasts, and he dropped low to capture a beaded nipple, dampening the cotton of my tank with his mouth.
That was nice and all—no, it was fucking incredible—but not as good as kissing him. And I so desperately wanted to kiss him, especially after the gift he’d just bestowed on me.
So I did. I grabbed his head and brought it to mine, my taste buds exploding with the taste of myself and his toxic, drugging flavor. I was on his tongue, the roof of his mouth, and it was heady enough that spasms erupted between my legs.
Jude pulled away, breathing heavy with his forehead scrunched. “I just ate you.”
I felt my own crinkle. “So?”
His eyes widened, and then he grinned. “Chicks usually don’t dig being kissed afterward.”
I wasn�
�t aware he’d been with anyone other than Marnie, and I doubted he had. Which meant she was an idiot.
We already knew that.
“Don’t assume you know me just because I’m inexperienced.”
A brow rose. “Oh?”
I moved his mouth back to mine, kissing each corner of it before sucking on his lower lip. “I might not know much, but I already know if it involves you, I’m going to love it.”
He stiffened for a heartbeat, and I heard him swallow before he rasped to my mouth, “You’re going to be my ruination, Red.”
We both knew that wasn’t true.
We both knew he’d be mine instead.
He rolled, taking me with him and running his hands down my sides, his mouth fused to mine. Desperate and growling low, he sucked, and he swiped, and he stole brand new pieces of me I never knew existed with every passing moment.
Gripping my ass, he pressed up into me, rocking my damp center over the bulging, hot member inside his briefs.
Threading his fingers into my hair, he whispered into my mouth, “What are you afraid of, pretty Red?”
He flipped me to my back again as I asked, breathless, “Why do you want to know that?”
His hands on my breasts squeezed while his lips danced over the skin beneath them. “Everyone’s afraid of something. Multiple somethings, usually.” His tongue slid down my stomach, and I lost my vision as the room began to swirl once more. “Tell me.”
“Moths,” I panted when he reached my mound, needing him to both stop and drop lower.
“Moths?” he repeated, humor lightening his voice.
“Yes,” I said, swallowing as the memory of my dad and I camping out in the backyard closed in to break the magic. We’d lasted until two in the morning, and then something had landed upon my cheek, and I’d woken with a scream.
My dad had snorted, coming awake with a start before leaping to his feet and almost knocking the tent over due to his height. I’d screamed, pointing at the offending giant fluttering over the lantern between our sleeping bags, and he’d laughed, rubbing his tired eyes before leaving the tent.
He’d returned minutes later with a container to trap it in, but I was a shaking, shivering, crying mess. “It’s only a moth, Cherub,” he’d said.
But it was furry and huge and had freaky looking patterns etched upon its wings. Don’t even get me started about the grotesque… “Fern.”
The terse use of my name brought me back. Jude sat beside me with his brows lowered.
“What happened?”
“You were staring at the ceiling, completely frozen.”
I clutched his sheets over my lower half, self-conscious and cold. “Oh,” I whispered. “Sorry.”
Jude was quiet for a minute, but I couldn’t look at him.
He was going to kick me out, call me crazier than thou, and never lay eyes on me again.
An idea sprang to life, and I sat up, throwing him a grin I hoped was believable. “Can I see you?”
Jude stared at me with cool eyes, and I knew the answer would be no before he smirked. Rising from the bed, he crossed the room. “Playtime’s over, Red. Be gone when I get back.”
The bathroom door closed.
Dismissed.
Something stabbed at my sternum, but I didn’t allow it entry. Instead, I collected my panties and shorts and willed my eyes not to well as I stood and tugged them on.
His phone lit up on the nightstand, and I couldn’t help myself. I walked closer to take a look.
Marnie: I hope you’ve sobered up. I’m still pissed as hell, Jude. Call me when you learn how to grovel.
Pissed as hell? I wondered what he did as I eyed the books on his nightstand. There were three, and I memorized the titles and the placement of the bookmarks before the first part of Marnie’s text slammed home.
My head swung to the bathroom door, the sound of running water coming from the other side.
He was drunk? He hadn’t seemed drunk, and I hadn’t tasted alcohol. I’d tasted spearmint and tea. That wasn’t good enough to stop the sinking that had already been taking place from wobbling my lips.
I brushed a stray tear from beneath my eye, inwardly berating myself for the show of weakness, even though he couldn’t see. He was a shark, and the second he scented blood, he’d come looking for something to eat.
With one last glance back at his books, the rumpled sheets, and the too-tidy spines and football trophies upon the sprawling shelves, I walked out the same way I’d come.
Jude
Marnie was standing out the front of school Monday morning, leaning against one of two black rearing horse statues by the stairs. “I’m still waiting for that apology.”
“You’ll be waiting for the rest of your life,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying.
“Jude?” she said, aghast as she followed me.
I swept between a couple, enjoying their annoyance, and lifted my chin at Adam, the most recent failure on our football team.
Marnie’s tiny hand grabbed my wrist before Gary could harass me. Glancing around, I sneered at the sets of eyes pinned on us, prompting them to look away.
“Seriously?” she said. “You called me a motherfucker.”
“I was talking about your car, and you fucking hit me.” I screwed around with my tie, then gave up and left it undone around my neck. “Like twenty-one times, but who’s counting.”
Her cheeks turned crimson. “Oh, yeah.” With a nod, as if she’d decided something, she then offered me a grim smile. “Sorry. Guess I got mad.”
Guess she got mad.
For the love of fuck. I needed a coffee with a shot of bourbon, maybe a line of coke. Once again, I should’ve stayed home, but no great deed should go unwitnessed. Said deed was the reason my eyeballs felt like sandpaper, and for the ache in my limbs.
I hadn’t slept since Saturday night. Even then, Henry had woken with a nightmare, the first one that week, but it made up for it by keeping him awake until four in the morning.
“Sure,” I finally conceded. “Let’s do this some other time. I have a nap waiting for me in bio.”
I walked on without looking at her or anyone else and stalked through the human-stained halls to my locker. Closing it, I came face-to-face with Marnie once more.
Bloody hell. What was her deal? It was like she knew I’d stuck my tongue in Red’s cunt last Friday night. Remembering the way she’d moaned, shocked and damn near hysterical as she came on my mouth…
Marnie’s hand clasped mine. She stepped into me, chasing thoughts that never should’ve arrived away. “I don’t know if you’re able to give me what I need, but I do know I still love you.”
Breath whooshed out of me so fast that I swore it was the reason I swayed into her. I folded my hand around hers and nodded. “Where does that leave us?” Maybe all was not lost after all.
If I could still get her back, then she’d erase some of the darkness. I could already feel the shadows masking my soul begin to retreat at her tender touch.
Marnie’s smile was coy as she rose onto her toes, her lips aimed at mine.
My eyes closed, an exhale loaded with relief washing over her lips. I heard a whistle from some jackass, but I hardly noticed. My tablet clapped her in the back as my arms wound around her tiny waist, and my mouth opened to welcome her tongue.
Imminent sunshine was halted by a thunderous bout of laughter, and then a scream bloodcurdling enough to reach the marrow of my bones. Every hair on my body stood at attention as I reared back from Marnie and glanced down the hall to discover Fern sitting on the floor.
Her arms were tucked over her head, her knees to her chest, as a thousand black, red, and brown moths flew above her and swarmed the halls.
Cruel, most definitely, but fuck if I didn’t smirk with an immense sense of satisfaction.
Hey, it took twenty phone calls and a back-alley meetup with a reptile breeder in order to get what I needed. Who would’ve thought that would’ve been the easy part? Gett
ing those dusty fucks inside her locker, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter of difficulty.
I’d tried to enlist Silas for help, but he’d laughed, giving me a resounding, “Fuck no,” before the line went dead. Of course, his girlfriend was BFFs with Red. I should’ve already guessed that, and if not for Silas’s still pure heart, that might have been an issue.
Every initiated member of Nightingale had a key to all facilities on the island, including the schools.
So, I’d trudged into school an hour before midnight with plans to empty the box of moths inside Fern’s locker. I’d stood in front of it, feeling like a right wanker for not foreseeing the fact I hadn’t a way to break inside the damn thing without ruining the lock.
I wasn’t sure what made me try it, but after two failed attempts, I entered my birth date.
The door had clicked and swung open a little, the sound like a sledgehammer meeting glass in the dark of night. All the while, I’d stood there staring at the books and cosmetic bag inside for God only knew how long.
I’d ended up fetching a grinder and welder from the metal shop in the basement to cut open and then fix the top of her locker. I’d welded exactly eight times before in my life. Each time during metalwork, of which I’d taken out of curiosity but quickly grew bored with when I realized it was just another thing I excelled at.
A bunch of moths escaped, and I’d spent at least thirty minutes chasing them through the halls, trying to capture them. A part of me could kind of see why Red hated them. They weren’t the nicest things to touch, that much was for sure.
I was no pro, but even I was proud as I’d stood on a ladder, leaning against the locker beside Fern’s to marvel at my handiwork. So what if a handful were still roaming the academy? I didn’t give a shit. Hopefully, one would find her later on—double win.
Cory raced down the hall, tugging her friend from the ground and clasping her cheeks. She said something. “Breathe,” by the looks of it.
Marnie was giggling, clinging to me as she whispered, “Did you do that?”
The smirk I was still wearing said it all, and when Fern finally lifted her head to look for me, I kissed my prize, then dragged her away from the shitshow I’d caused.