Red: Fiery Finale (Spectrum Series Book 8)

by Allison White

I keep my smile and hold back my eye roll. “You heard the man, legend.”

  “Shut up.” He steals my blushing move and jumps down. I watch as he jogs back onto the field, my eyes glued to his nice…assets.

  “I thought you were going to leave him alone. You know, spare him from the damage you normally do,” Miss-bitch snarls beside me.

  “I was going to, when I realized something…” I turn to her, duck my head next to her ear, and whisper, “I don’t listen to creepy bitches like you, and he just can’t get enough of me. Oh, and how did his breath smell when he’s talking ’bout me to you? He does enjoy tasting me down under, if you get me. Says I taste sweet as a sugar.”

  I lean back, gauge her dropped jaw, and snigger before taking my time climbing back up to Majesty. Having watched, even though she had no idea what I said, she’s snapping her fingers and clapping.

  I wink at the stunned bitch before watching my man practice in his oh so glorious gray sweatpants.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Noah

  My condo is packed hours after the game. The second I made the last winning shot, the crowd went wild and fled to my house. It is extremely concerning how the whole school knows where I live, but I did make it easy with the amount of parties I threw when Red left. I went insane mentally and needed my house filled with people sharing the same mission as me: to forget every fucked-up thing in their life. Even it’s just for a few hours.

  My breathing skips a beat, and I look over at the reason, my Red. She’s challenging Majesty to shots and is winning. Maj, on the other hand, she’s wobbling and crying out about how much she hates Brandon. But she stops mid-drink to answer a call from him. I laugh as she whizzes past me in tears, telling him how much she loves him. Their relationship is the craziest rollercoaster, and I know two other people that, thinking of them makes me dizzy.

  My eyes move over to Red again, and I smile. She’s screaming and whirling her hips around. I bite my lip, and my eyes fall on the exposed warm sliver of skin under her thin black band t-shirt and leather jacket. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail with more tendrils than tamed hair, and all of her earrings shine under the dim kitchen light.

  Even as she drunkenly flips a random guy off for not being a shot queen like herself, she is the cutest, most beautiful girl to ever exist.

  The other guys surrounding the kitchen island must realize it, because they’re eyeing her with lustful gazes.

  Oh hell no. Not on my fucking watch.

  I swoop in, hooking an arm around her waist and plastering her to my side. “I think that’s enough, babe, don’t you think?” I give them all killer gazes, daring anyone to step up and just try it. But their eyes widen and either walk away or turn into little groups, avoiding my gritted teeth.

  “Noah, stop being a mad man and do shots with me,” Red whines and spins out of my hold. At least, she tries to. She just comes right back into my chest. Her eyes are droopy, and her mouth is sporting a playful smile. “Unless you’re too pussy to do it.”

  “Ah, Red, you are piss-drunk.” I smile as I brush loose hairs behind her ears.

  “And you, Noah Wells, star whatever positions they have on that sport you played today—”

  “Lacrosse,” I inform her softly, but she just goes on all loopy-like.

  “You need to find your butt right next to mine, and we—we need to do some shots. Yes!” she screams, and her hands clap together, and I cringe as she giggles lightly.

  “How much did you drink when I left for more beer?”

  “Just a little bit,” she says, and I glance at the line of empty shot glasses beside us. I raise a brow, and she raises her hands and laughs behind them. “Okay, maybe more than a little bit.”

  “You think?” I chuckle at her drunk shyness. I bend down to press my lips to her forehead. “I’m going to get you some water. Don’t move.” I don’t want her to pass out or anything. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Red drink like this before. I don’t think I’ve seen her drink at all, not in front of me, anyway. She was doing fine with the five or six beers and other alcoholic drinks before I left, but nearly half an hour later—there was a car accident and a little jam—and she’s drunk as hell, courtesy of Maj and her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Brandon.

  “Aye-aye Noah!” she shouts and slaps her forehead. I think she was trying to salute me. Which makes me all the more tickled and worried. She’s an adorable drunk; I never knew that.

  I leave her by the kitchen island and head for the fridge. There are so many fingerprints and what I think is…oatmeal? I don’t know. I pop open the door and snag a chilled bottled water. Then think of what I want to drink since I didn’t have anything prior to the beer run and grab another one. I turn back around and find the spot where Red was just standing empty.

  “Red?” I choke out; it’s hard to breathe. I imagine the worst: she’s been kidnapped, she fell off the balcony, she’s…dancing in the middle of the living room. I find my missing breath and walk over to her but stop and admire her for a beat longer.

  Her hair is let out and falls into soft waves down her back. Her black-painted fingernails peek through the strands as she sways her hips back and forth. And it isn’t frenzied and making her look like a cat dragging its ass on the rug like the other girls. She looks like a freaking goddess granting her peasants a few minutes of her precious time, teaching them how it’s done.

  I walk over to her. “Drink up, babe.”

  “Same for you.” She holds out a shot glass, eyelids heavy, smile charming.

  I push her hand away and raise the bottle. “Come on, I don’t want you puking everywhere. I already feel like a shit for this mess.” I look around, frowning. “Daisy has a helluva lot to clean up tomorrow.”

  “Forget Daisy and have fun, Grandpa.” She laughs, nearing the glass under my nose. One whiff makes me cringe, and her eyes light up. “Don’t be scared, baby. Just one shot. Or two. Or five.”

  “Five?” I gasp.

  Her eyes roll, and she waves the glass around. “You’re young.” She pauses, gulping, voice shyer. “And weren’t you partying like a wild animal when I was…gone?” Who told her that? Majesty pops into my head, images of her and Brandon grinding like wild bunnies one week, crying and screaming at each other the next.

  “That was before…” My voice is small.

  “Yeah, and this is now.” She takes my free hand and clasps hers and mine around the tiny glass. “And I want my hot-ass, lacrosse-playing winning boyfriend to drink with me.”

  I cup her chin, flashing her a wide smile. “Hot-ass?” It isn’t something she wouldn’t not shy away from sober, and it makes me feel warm because she’s herself with and without liquor.

  “Yes.” She chuckles at her own words and nods. “You have a really hot ass.” She reaches around me and slaps me on the butt.

  “Red.” My cheeks feel illegally hot.

  She just snorts and pushes the glass to my lips. “In you go, little liquor,” she says in a tiny voice.

  I laugh, and the vodka slithers in when my mouth parts open. I roll my eyes and lean down so she has more access to my mouth. I swallow the harsh liquor and uncap the water bottle, her eyes glistening with pride.

  “Your turn,” I say, and she smiles.

  We do this for a good amount of time, feeding each other water and shots, her more water, though. What feels like hours pass until I’m sucked into the present. My hands are on her waist, and hers are tangled in my hair. I watch with hooded eyes as her hips sway and dip to the R&B song. She’s moving so sensuously, so smooth and so sexy—I’m pretty sure there’s more drool in my mouth than anything else.

  “There we go,” she encourages. Her cheeks are pinch red with her smile. “You’re drunk.”

  “Who has spunk?” I scream over the loud music and general party chatter.

  She giggles and shakes her head. “I said drunk, babe. As in drunk enough to hold my ass the way you are now.” Her smile turns playful and shiny with
the light hitting her lip ring at every angle as she bounces around.

  What?

  And then I look over her shoulder and smile. I am holding her ass. And boy does it feel great in my hands. I don’t think I’d normally do this, right? I’m normally a gentleman, right? You exhale after sucking in a sharp breath, right?

  Her hair tickles my chest as she twirls in her combat boots and begins rubbing her plump ass on me. My heart is pounding against her head, and I close my eyes. The music swirls in my head and drowns out every thought, except for the ones dedicated to her. The ones that note how much she smells like cheap vodka and fruity perfume and coconut shampoo.

  “I want to eat you,” I voice my thoughts in her ear, and her body shakes slightly. She spins around and stares into my eyes. Thump, thump, thump! I can hear my heart shoot off in a frenzy under her darkened blue eyes and sluggish smile.

  She tilts her head and bites the corner of her full lower lip. “Oh, do you?”

  Fuck.

  She looks so sexy.

  Now I definitely want to kiss her, lick her, bite her.

  “Yes.” I nod and move to cup her face and pull her into a kiss, but she wags a finger with one hand. The other…oh. Her other hand palms my crotch, and I nearly bust under her gentle touch. “Red,” I hiss when she squeezes gently then presses her hips into me. Hard.

  “Fuck, Red,” I groan and move to bend down, but she cups me again and rocks her hips. Her hips move dreamily against me, smooth and in one stroke. Fuck me. “Let’s go in the bedroom.”

  “After one more dance,” she says with a smirk that spells trouble and—holy shit, is she really going to make me come in the middle of a room full of people? Given, it is dark as hell and no one really seems to care. But still, the scandalousness of it all makes my head pound, turns my heart into liquid.

  “Red,” I groan again, but her finger against my lips shuts me up.

  “One—” She runs her fingertips against me. “More—” She palms me and wags her thumb. “Dance,” she finishes with a firm grip that just takes me in one swift go. My heart, cloudy mind, heavy mouth—it’s all hers.

  “You are so bad,” I murmur and let my head hang. She smiles, and her hair moves and covers her face. No, I need to see her face. Need to see my little vixen girl get me off in the middle of this party. I push the right side of her hair over her shoulder and duck my head, resting my hands on her cheeks, cocooning us in this little bubble of hazy hearts and teasing hands.

  “All for you, baby,” she whispers against my chest.

  And time freezes and catapults into another century as her hand moves. I cup her ass, wishing she was wearing a dress. Or nothing at all. Yeah, I prefer nothing. I want to sink my teeth into her hot skin. Hear her moan my name as I thrust in her.

  Her doing this isn’t enough, but it’s too much at the same time. She makes my head fuzzy, makes it hard to think. God. How long have I been dry-humping her like a fucking dog, hissing as she presses her pelvis into me?

  Her hand palming me and gripping me and massaging is one thing—her staring up at me with an innocent smile and flushed cheeks is another.

  “Holy fuck, Red.” I shut my eyes and come, hard. She giggles, and it drop-kicks my sorry ass to the ground. I grip her hair and pull her face to mine. Our lips crash into a hard, consuming, desire-filled kiss.

  Her lips are soft and so, so warm. I lick her lip ring and gently nibble into her upper lip. I claim her moan with a harsh grab at her ass flesh. I grind her against me, and she moans again, feeling what she’s done to me. Now I need to feel what I’ve longed for so long—her.

  “One more—” She tries to tease me some more, being the evil girl she is.

  But I cut her off. I cup her chin and tsk, staring at her jarred mouth. “We can dance in the bedroom.”

  Her eyes spark up at the idea. “I think I’d like that, a lot.”

  “Oh, really?” I mock her, and she growls. I laugh heartily and duck my head to kiss her again. This time, it’s more gentle and sweet and smiling and teeth than anything. And it’s perfect, just like her. Just like my Red.

  Pulling away, I take her hand. “Let’s go.”

  She smiles, and I begin to pull her in the direction of the bedroom when I am tugged around to face a guy from the team—Louis, I think is his name. I should know, but I’ve been so wrapped up in working for my dad and Red, there hasn’t been much space to store teammates’ names and faces.

  “Yeah?” I barely get out before he stomps over my words.

  “Maryland’s here,” he stammers over his heavy breathing. His icy blue eyes are wide and flitting somewhere in the crowd, but I don’t know what he means.

  “Who?” I question. The shots of liquor I consumed decide to make an appearance now and drag my words down into slurs.

  “Maryland,” he repeats. “The team we played today.”

  “Oh.” I nod, but I still don’t get it. “What’s the problem?” I know something is going on, I can hear screaming over the crowd, but my brain is too tranquil by the liquor to piece it all together.

  “They’re about to fight us,” he says, and by us, I think he means the team. Which, now that I think about it, isn’t in the crowd. I catch one making his way to where the screaming is progressing—he looks pissed and is cracking his knuckles.

  “Oh,” I repeat, and my eyes widen. “I’ll be there in a sec,” I tell him, and he nods and flees over to the growing crowd. The music lowers a tad, and I spin around to a dazed and horny Red. “Go into my bedroom and lock the door. I’ll be there in a second.”

  “What? Why?” she asks, pouting and reaching out for my face. I take her wrists and kiss her palms before giving her a soft smile and placing them at her sides.

  “There’s something going on I have to take care of. But I swear I’ll be with you as soon as possible, okay?” I say again.

  She glares at me. “Screw that, I’m coming with you.”

  “Red—” I exclaim, but the cursing on the other side of the room stops me. Groaning defeatedly, I grab her hand and squeeze us through the crowd, moving to the shouting. Red pushes people out of her way, and I blush apologetically.

  We stumble into a tight circle, my teammates on one half, Maryland University’s lacrosse team completing the other half. And I am so confused as Mike screams profanities at a hulk of a man. Big muscles, brown hair cropped short, a shit-eating grin taking up his mostly red face. I’m mostly confused because I’ve never quite seen Mike this upset; he’s being held back by Ty and another guy.

  “Whoa—what’s going on here?” I walk over to him, laying a hand on his quivering shoulder.

  “This boy started making a fuss; we just came because we wanted to have a little fun, be good sportsmen.” Hulk gestures to the guys clad in polos and snapbacks. They look like a douche squad.

  “Boy?” Mike roars and rushes forward, but Ty and I and some other guys pull him back just in time.

  “Oh, fuck no,” Red hisses beside me, nails digging into my skin.

  “Mike, calm down,” I plead. “Red, not now,” I whisper to her.

  “I can’t, Noah,” he grits out, eyes bulging and teeth bared.

  I know this guy’s a raging asshole and, by the looks of the way he’s regarding Mike with disgust with an air of superiority, a raging racist. I spot a guy in the douche squad wearing a red Trump hat and lose my cool. Just seeing it makes me cringe and shake my head. Hard pass. Hard fucking no!

  I face leader douche/Hulk. “Listen, man, you and your team can just leave. It’s clear you just came to start shit.”

  He chuckles and waves a hand. “No, no. We came for the booze and chicks.” He glances around the room, grinning, until his eyes settle on Majesty, who’s gripping her brother’s hand, and his face sours and he shudders. The guys whisper, and I hear “towel,” and Red growls and moves toward the douche squad. They whistle, and the music is non-existent by now, so we all hear it loud and clear.

  “Just get the fuck
out. Now…” Before I throw your ass over the balcony.

  “Seriously?” he chuckles, making my skin crawl. “You’re not gonna listen to me over this nigg—”

  I swing my fist into his mouth before he can finish, and all hell breaks loose.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  He topples over with me on top, still swinging my fists. He huffs out a big breath as he collides smack dab on his back. I swing my fist at his nose and hear a loud crunch, and that’s when I’m pushed off of him before I can do the same, but to his freaking teeth. I’m kneed in the face by a tall guy, the guy wearing the Trump hat. But before he can hit me, Ty tackles him to the ground, falling next to the Hulk, who’s murmuring bullshit.

  “Noah! Oh my God, come on!” Majesty screams, eyes wide, and reaches down for something. I don’t know what, but my head is too heavy for my shoulders, and I taste metal. I take her hand and push myself to my feet. I stumble into her, and she groans, helping me stabilize myself. “You’re bleeding!” she exclaims and wobbles for a bit. Now it’s my turn to stabilize her.

  “I don’t care. Take Red and go to my room. Call the cops,” I instruct her, but I’m too distracted by the chaotic scene. My teammates are all tackling and swinging at the other team. There’s blood and spit mixed together everywhere, and I don’t see my girl. Where the fuck is my girl?

  “I don’t—I don’t know where she is!” Majesty begins to cry when I hear her.

  “Noah! Get the fuck off of me, you prick!”

  My head snaps to my right, and I sigh in relief, but it’s short-lived when a guy on the Maryland team slaps her. Everything else blurs out as she punches him, and I am storming through the fighting and people rushing to the door. Rage fills me until I can literally taste it in my mouth. I spit out blood before breaking into a sprint. My heart is pounding wildly in my ears, my blood churning with fire.

  I tackle him to the ground before he can raise his hand to her again. I hear something crack. It could be his spine, his skull—I don’t give a flying fuck. He hurt my girl! He fucking hit her! And now I can’t see anything but pure fury in its natural color—red. I’m blinded by it; I can’t even fucking breathe as I hit him.