Red Hot Kisses

by Addison Moore

  “I’m ready,” I whisper.

  Rush flexes, carefully guiding himself inside me, and I can feel my innocence splitting like an atom. A rip, a tear, a furious spear of white-hot pain, and then he’s in me, so deep I gag for a moment. It feels as if he’s right up there in my throat, testing the boundaries of every inch of me.

  Rush is inside of me, loving me with his body, with his heavy panting, his throaty groans, and for unknown reasons my eyes flood with tears.

  I love him.

  This much I know is true.

  * * *

  To say the morning after was awkward would be putting it mildly. Rush rolled over, smiled, and then bolted upright in horror while whacking me ever so gently—hell, not all that gently if I’m telling the truth—in the face with a pillow. I assure you this was not your run-of-the-mill pillow fight. This was Rush screaming tarantula! And me running around his room naked and screaming at the top of my lungs until we discover rather simultaneously it was merely a false eyelash gone astray. Yes, that was pretty.

  A week floats by, and Rush and I have yet to reenact the raunchy routine. He assured me he understood the importance of waiting a few days before diving back in and drilling for oil. Okay, so he didn’t include the crude commentary, but I digress. Hopefully, we’ll pick up where we left off sooner than later. There are a few bennies I’ve yet to cash in on, such as the ever-elusive O. Don’t get me wrong, Rush is no slouch. He put in his time on the job, and it was a forceful yet enthusiastic effort at that. But my body kept seizing up moments before liftoff, and, well, after an hour or three, I decided it was in the best interest of his oxygen intake we give up on the effort.

  But on this Saturday night, Sunday, Serena, Harley, and I have decided to meet up for dinner at the Black Bear. The football team didn’t have a game, so most of the Briggs population has chosen to congregate here. I’m late, and by the looks of things Sunday is already on dessert. To be fair I asked her not to wait for me.

  I spot Rush over in the back with the usual suspects—Seth, Knox, Grant, and Lawson. My brother catches my eye and offers up a quick wave, so I shoot one right back. Rush turns around and does a double take, winking nice and slow once he sees me.

  Sunday scoffs. “My brother is such a goof. Remind me to tell him no one likes a person who winks.”

  “You’ve winked before.” I knock her elbow off the table.

  “That’s because I’m prone to picking up bad habits from him.” She runs her fork through her lemon pie before letting it fall to her plate. “Speaking of which—I’m sort of thinking about having a fling. You know—finding someone and having a little fun of my own.”

  “What?” the three of us squawk at once.

  “No,” I bleat, emphatic. “We are not of the slut variety. We need love and romance. A fling offers none of the above.”

  “She’s right.” Serena is quick to side with me. That look in her eyes is lethal. If anything, Serena is all about protecting her cousin’s shiny intact-hymen virtue.

  Harley shakes her head. “It’s hard finding the one, though. And if we wait around forever, we may leave this four-year institution untouched, unsung, and unloved.”

  Serena bumps her. “Are you quoting your favorite movie again? I swear, this girl plays three things on a loop.”

  “That’s because they’re tried and true,” she counters.

  Serena scoffs. “Tried and true are two things you don’t need your girl parts to be.”

  “Touché,” I sing. “Love conquers all. And you know what else it’s really good at conquering?” I glower at Sunday. “Your vagina. So, wait for it.”

  She averts her eyes as if I just spewed false logic. “This coming from a girl who not only purports to being in love, but loses her virginity to a guy and won’t tell her roommate his name.”

  The sounds of jaws dropping to the floor are apparently a real thing because a serious boom just came from the opposite end of the table.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Harley looks personally offended. She’s so beautiful with her year-round perfectly tan skin, those illuminated eyes, I’m terrified Rush will wake up one day and realize it’s her he really wants to be with. So no. I will not be touting my relationship status with her or anyone else at this table for many, many reasons.

  “It’s still new.” I glance over at him and wonder if it’ll ever get old. It won’t, but that’s not the point. “Besides, you witches don’t know him. He’s—older.”

  Serena sucks in a sharp breath. “It’s a professor! It’s Professor Hastings! He is hot as fu—”

  “Fugly.” I slap my hand over hers as if bringing her back down to Earth. “He’s fugly. My man is a thing of alien beauty who should come with a warning label he’s so darn hot.”

  The three of them stare over at me with a marked silence and at full attention. It’s only then I realize there is no good way out of this mess. Once this nosy threesome is bound and determined, there’s not a secret safe on the planet. Rush and I are going to be outted. And sadly, a part of me is cheering them on. Coming out as a couple would be the logical next step. I mean, we can’t hide forever, right? Who’s to stop us from stepping up the big reveal other than Knox, Rex, Lawson, Sunday, Serena, and most likely everyone on campus that bears a double X chromosome.

  “Who is he?” Serena harps as if it’s any of her beeswax.

  My phone burps and twitches just as the 12 Deadly Sins take the stage, and both Serena and Harley have a little groupiegasm. They’ve expounded their love for Blake, the lead singer, on innumerous occasions. Yes, he’s cute and witty, and sings like an orgasmic dream, but he’s no Rush Knight, so I glance to my phone and don’t pay him any mind.

  “It’s my mom.” I shrug as I show them the text. But neither of them is interested in my flimsy excuse to remove myself from the conversation. Instead, they do the honors for me as they glide out of the booth and onto the dance floor.

  “Scoot.” Sunday knees me in the thigh until I bounce on out. “And don’t think for a minute I won’t stop until you reveal his identity.”

  “Et tu, Brutus? Trust me, you’ll appreciate the need for anonymity once you start flinging penises with the best of Kappa Kappa Gag Me.”

  She rolls her eyes as she plucks off her heels. “Finish up with your mom and join me. This conversation is far from over, young lady.” She offers an exaggeratingly cheesy wink before taking off in spite of decrying the facial gesture.

  “You’re more and more like your brother every day!” I shout after her, and Rush turns my way. Those heavy lids of his speak volumes about where his head is and he lets his gaze ride up and down my body before turning back around.

  Knox has Harper sitting on his lap. And Grant and Lawson each have their plus ones by their side, too. I wonder how far off we are from completing that quadrilateral of love. I wonder if my brother would ever accept it.

  I glance down at the text from my mother.

  I love you. I just want you to know that. Bradley and I are hosting Thanksgiving at The Happy Squirrel cabin, and it would mean the world if you and Knox could make it. You can bring a date if you like. Please consider. I spoke with your father.

  A flash of anger surges in me. The audacity. It was bad enough I had to camp out at that so-called loft engineered out of pretzels while she trolloped around with him prior to their wedding, but now she wants me to ditch my father on what is practically a high holy holiday in our family?

  No way! Dad wins hands down. How could you even ask me to leave him all by his lonesome? I’m not you. I hit Send without a smidge of remorse.

  She’s typing back, furiously most likely. She doesn’t take rejection well. We’ve got that in common.

  He mentioned he’ll be in New York. I’m sorry. I thought you knew. Regardless, there will be a place setting for you at the table. We need to talk. I miss you so much, Beatrix. You have my heart. You always have.

  “Who is this woman who stole my mother’s phone?” I shake my
head disbelievingly before burying the evidence of my mother’s insanity deep into my purse. I start to head out and note Rush hot on my heels. I stride toward the bathroom, hoping he’ll follow my lead, and sure enough, he takes the sexual bait.

  Wordlessly, I grab him by the hand and make a mad dash for the ladies’ room. Thankfully, a stall sits idle and I don’t hesitate yanking him inside. I fumble with the lock, but it seems to be stuck and I can’t get the darn lever to loosen no matter how hard I smack it.

  “Geez,” I hiss in a tizzy. My body spikes with heat in fear of getting caught. “You need a degree in bathroom stall sciences to figure out how to lock this thing.” And then someone on Mount Olympus smiles down at me and the lock glides right into place, securing the privacy of our spontaneous tryst.

  “Hello to you, too,” he whispers with that demented clown grin pinned to his face, and it unleashes an entire rushing river to gush from deep within me. His features look oddly accentuated by the lighting, and those eyes—my God, I cannot get my fill. His cologne grips my senses, and suddenly all seems right with the world. That cloying feeling my mother invoked melts away like snow in the spring.

  I pull him in and our mouths fuse together in a frenzy. Rush tastes like peppermint and beer, and I’m dizzy off his scent, his taste, the feel of his granite-like body against mine. I fumble with his pants until I’m holding him hot in my hands, and I lift my skirt and put his hands right over my bottom, just feeling his searing skin over mine and memorizing the feel.

  Rush riffles through his wallet before coming up with a condom, and the look on his face spells out relief. “We got lucky.” He waves it a moment before biting it open and gliding it on.

  I hike up over him with my legs around his waist, and just like that, he’s in me. My body slams against the bathroom stall aggressively again and again, and I can hear the distinct sound of giggles emanating from behind the closed door. One powerful explosion after the next and I close my eyes, bend my head back, and ride it out like a series of violent waves. Rush clutches onto me, digging his fingers into my ribs as his body quivers to completion. He lands an aggressive kiss to my lips, and we linger there a moment, just the two of us alone in this universe.

  He peppers kisses to my ear. “Damn, you’re wild.” His heavy panting deafens me. The two of us just stand there staring at one another, those lusty lasers of his knifing right through me as if begging for more. “I’ll leave first. Plan for a sleepover tomorrow night.” He kisses me as he buttons up and ditches out of the stall.

  I wait for all of three seconds before dashing into the foyer after him and bump right into—

  “Sunday?” My voice pitches to unnatural heights.

  Her mouth drops open, and her eyes round out as if they just saw the entire thing play out in real time. “Were you just in the bathroom with my brother?” The look of horror on her face quickly morphs into hurt, and I want nothing more than to drop in a hole—or a toilet as it were.

  “No! I mean yes. He was in the stall next to me.” My entire body lights up like a flare with the lie. “My God, he is a grade A pervert. I’m pretty sure campus police should be warned of his predatory ways, but judging by how hard that girl was howling she enjoyed every minute.”

  She slaps her hand over her forehead. “Of course. I’m so sorry you had to bear witness to it. God, he is such a pig.” She glares at the exit as if she were headed out to rip him a new one.

  “I agree, but who cares, right?” I try to swallow, but my throat feels thick and dry. I can’t help but note how disheveled my hair looks after our romp and stomp, and I’m shocked that Sunday is buying the bull I’m slinging.

  Scarlett comes up behind me and begins staring at the floor as if she lost a dollar, and her eyes widen as she traces my body with her gaze. She speeds on over. “Trixie, can I talk to you a moment?”

  “Perfect timing!” I clutch at her shoulders. “I mean, I hate this song, so I was going to sit it out.” I grimace at Sunday, and my roomie glares at me for a moment before softening. We’ve begged the Sins to sing this song on at least twelve different occasions.

  “I’ll be on the dance floor. This happens to be our favorite song.” She takes off, and I feel smaller than head lice for lying to her so brazenly about both sex and the 12 Deadly Sins. It’s a sad day when you decide it’s best to take down the entire music industry right along with your pride.

  “What is going on?” Scarlett’s eyes are ripe with rage. Her hair shimmers like a burning inferno all its own, and suddenly I’m feeling out of the fiery loop. “I saw Rush leaving the girls’ bathroom.”

  I suck in a quick breath. “I guess he gets around.” Now it’s my face on fire. I’m such a lousy liar. I’m sure I’ll be confessing the entire unholy event at the mic before this night is through. Maybe I’ll even start a new trend? Confessional karaoke.

  “Save it.” Her eyes cut through mine like emerald blades. “I was in the next stall. I made it a point to memorize the shoes of the girl who was wasted enough to get laid in a bathroom stall. Gray sneakers, small hole in the right toe?” Her accusing gaze never leaves mine.

  “For your information, my sneakers were once stark white.” I do my best to circle around her, and she blocks my path with that flummoxed expression.

  She spikes her fists in her hips with that know-it-all look on her face. “I take it your brothers don’t know about this.”

  “What do you know? I was just about to tell them. Isn’t that what every sane girl does after having bathroom stall sex with her boyfriend?”

  “Boyfriend?” Her jaw drops as if that were far more fatal than a sticky quickie. “Are you really seeing Rush?” Her brows do this weird squiggly worm dance, and she suddenly looks afraid for my safety.

  “Yes,” I hiss right into her shocked little face. “And I expect you to keep it down. This isn’t news I’m sharing just yet. So help me God, if you tell Rex—my brother, who you—my quasi-sister—are bedding I will freak the freak out! Don’t you dare look at me as if I’ve lost my mind. You and I both know Rush Knight can make even the hardest heart fold.”

  “You folded, huh?” Scarlett dropped the holier-than-thou act real quick after I pointed out the fact she was practically committing step-incest. It’s disgusting is what it is. But you can’t really blame Rex. Scarlett is a stunner. I guess my brother isn’t so hard on the eyes either.

  “Yes, I folded. I folded like a lawn chair, just the way you did when my brother came sniffing around your bits and pieces. Now, please,”—suddenly I want to cry—“do not, I repeat, do not out me.”

  “Fine,” she snipes. “But if you keep pulling stunts like that, you’ll out yourself in no time.” She chews on her lip a moment, her own eyes filling with tears. “You do realize he’s a notorious womanizer. That’s one cheetah that may never change his spots.”

  “We’re together now. Spots have changed. What we have is different.” My throat constricts, making it painful to speak.

  “Okay.” She nods without an ounce of believability. “Did you at least use protection?”

  “And foil my plans to grow a fetus before finals? Yes, we used protection. You really think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

  “No.” She shakes her head wildly, and I tend to believe her. Scarlett has never been anything but kind to me. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.” She hitches a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Promise me you’ll be safe. Above all, guard your heart. And anytime you want, my door is open to you.”

  “Thank you,” I say weakly. I’m just about to take off when she catches me by the wrist.

  “I almost forgot.” She winces. “I know it’s none of my business, but Rex sort of filled me in on all the drama with your mom. I get it. I haven’t always gotten along with mine either. She took off and started a whole new family. I thought maybe she hated me.” She glances to the ceiling, blinking back tears as if it were ludicrous. “But I know for a fact your mom doesn’t hate you. Rex and I have been goin
g to those excised parenting meeting she attends.”

  Now it’s me with my jaw rooted to the floor.

  “She loves you. She’s cried buckets for you at those meetings. And after listening to Rex, I think maybe your father—without meaning to—pitted you against her.”

  I yank my hand back. “How dare you. My dad did nothing but cover us in love. Please, don’t ever bring this up to me again.” I bolt out the door and run all the way to Cutler Tower. Somehow my mother managed to usurp the glory of tonight’s little bathroom games.

  Figures.

  If anyone can ruin a good time, it’s my mother.

  * * *

  Rush and I lose ourselves in our own little world. The Love in the Night hour hosts a few more of Whitney Briggs’ self-proclaimed D-list celebrities, Laney and Ryder—the exes that find their way back in time for Christmas. Roxy and Cole, the feisty beauty and the brut womanizing beast—they remind me most of Rush and me. Izzy and Holt—the ballerina and the bartender—WB wasn’t remotely involved, but I appreciated the cougar aspect of it all. And then my favorite by far, Annie and Blake—she’s sweet as sugar. The deaf girl and the rock star. What’s not to love? All of the above had a happy ending, and all of the above are still going strong. It just goes to show that Rush and I can last forever.

  It’s a blustery Saturday night and Knox asked me to come over and watch a movie with him and Harper, as if. I can just picture me snuggled up between the two of them while they play footsie.

  Gross. No thanks. Anyone who finds brushing up against my brother’s sweaty feet even remotely a turn-on is someone I intrinsically can’t get along with. Sure, on the surface Harper and I get along, but deep down, where it counts, she’ll always be the other woman to me. I know how twisted that sounds, but he’s my other half, and I’ve never had to share him with another woman, not even our mother.