Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set)

by Edwards, Scarlett

  “And why are you only telling me this now?” I ask him. “I had no idea you were discussing me behind my back!”

  “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is!” I exclaim. Then I sigh. “But I’m curious. What did Summer say about me?”

  “She praised how independent you were,” he says. “And it’s not so much what she said, Celeste, as the way she said it. I could tell she looked up to you. A hell of a lot.”

  “That’s funny,” I murmur. “I never got that impression.”

  “That’s what I’ve been struggling with,” James admits. “That’s what she made it seem like, and then she went ahead and acted in exactly the opposite way. That’s why I say I think she’s faking.”

  I scoff. “I doubt it.”

  “I’m serious,” James says. “And I think—if you talk to her—if you two make peace? Maybe she can be reasoned out of pursuing these made-up charges against me.”

  “James, you know I’d do anything for you. But I don’t think Summer is in any position to listen to me.”

  “But she does care,” James says. “She cares about what happens to you. Deep down, she does. You say you two were friends since you were girls?”

  “Well, yeah,” I admit. “This grad school experience was meant as a way for us to rediscover our glory days,” I bark a laugh. “And look how well that turned out.”

  “Does she know about the cancer?” James asks, point blank.

  I blink.

  “No,” I tell him after a moment. “No. Nobody does. Other than you.”

  “But she suspects something,” James counters. “That’s why she told me the thing she did.”

  “Maybe,” I admit. “Then again, no.” I shake my head. “I moved in with you right around the time I found out. And when I went back to my old place, Summer was too preoccupied with whatever guy she was seeing to pay me any mind.”

  “Give her some credit,” he murmurs. “She might be more observant than you think.”

  “So what if she is?” I demand, suddenly on the offensive. “Why should she know or care about what’s happening to me? I’m not going to go back to her and announce it out of the blue. How do you propose that’s going to work, James? ‘Oh hi Summer, it’s me, guess what, I know you’re vengeful and spiteful and a total, utter bitch who’s defaming my boyfriend on a made up rape charge, but I thought you should know I have cancer, so yeah, and now you should feel sorry for me.’” I grunt. “Please. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

  James pulls into his parking spot in the basement. “Not exactly like that, no,” he says. “But not entirely far off from it, either.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not telling her about the cancer, James. I can go talk to her, if you insist, to try to get her to maybe drop the charges, but I’d only do it because you asked. Otherwise, there’s no way in hell I’m demeaning myself by crawling back to her. No. No way.”

  “I hope you’ll reconsider,” James says softly. “I know you, Celeste. And I know you don’t want to lose one of your closest friends, no matter how much you think you two drifted apart.”

  “That ship sailed long ago, James. I can’t believe you’re the one trying to talk me into it. You think I take what she did to you lightly? Of course not! How can I make peace with someone like that?”

  I take a deep breath. This sort of division is not helping my headache.

  “She’s trying to ruin our life. You mean so much more to me than she does.”

  “Like I said,” he opens my door. “She may not be the driving force behind this.”

  10.

  It’s stupid, but I spend the rest of the day worried about my botched exam.

  I just wanted to do something right. Schoolwork is one of the few things I have control over. I control my own destiny in my grades. It can’t be taken from me, nor does it present any unpleasant surprises.

  I ask James what he thinks I should do. To my surprise, he reveals that he’s already spoken to my professor and arranged for me to either finish the remainder of the test out-of-hours, or simply be graded on the portion I had completed.

  I tell him I want to finish it all, and go write my professor an email asking for the date. I get a reply less than fifteen minutes later, and just like that, it’s all arranged.

  I go up to James’s study and thank him for speaking on my behalf.

  He says he did it because he knew it was important to me. I feel a flush of love.

  And right on the spot, I make my decision.

  “I’ll talk to Summer for you,” I say. “I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you.” He smiles. “I have a feeling you’ll feel better about everything once you do, too.”

  I make a face. “Let’s just say… I’m not holding my breath.”

  I walk downstairs and continue prepping for tomorrow’s exam.

  It’s to be held in the late afternoon, so I can double up on studying through the night and get a reasonable amount of sleep.

  ***

  It’s late when I walk over to the kitchen sink, pour a glass of water, and down my chemo pills.

  I wince as I swallow.

  Going by past experience, I fully expect to be hurling my guts out sometime in the next two hours.

  So, I collect my books, pick out a little blankie, and cozy up against the wall opposite the bathroom door.

  11.

  James wakes me up the next morning.

  “Hey,” he says. “Hey, Celeste. You didn’t come up to bed.”

  I blink at him through grainy eyes. The room is filled with sunlight.

  “Shit!” I gasp. “Shit, what time is it?”

  “Just after two,” he says gently. He squats down and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Relax. You’ve got plenty of time before your test.”

  I sag in relief. I start blowing out a heavy breath—then catch myself and stop.

  With James so close, I’m conscious of subjecting him to lethal morning breath.

  “You okay over there?” he asks. He glances at the open bathroom door. “I heard you during the night.”

  “I’m fine, yeah,” I say. My stomach growls loudly. James tilts his head to the side. “I had my pills at night, instead of this morning. I didn’t want to be running and throwing up during the exam.”

  “And your head?” James asks. He brushes a lock of hair out of my forehead and softly touches the spot I’d hit. “Headaches?”

  “Not too bad,” I say. “I’ve got codeine for that, remember?”

  “Come on,” James says, helping me up. “Let’s get you ready for the day. I’ve got the shower running for us upstairs.”

  “Oh,” I blush, and give a shy smile. “Okay.”

  ***

  James makes sure the water is the perfect temperature. He takes off his robe and steps under the stream. He takes my hand and pulls me after him.

  “Hey,” he says. “Come here.”

  He twists us around so his back is toward the spout and I’m facing him. He pulls my hips toward his. His cock is flaccid and warm under the stream.

  He stares into my eyes and we stand like that, right under the stream. “Okay?” he asks after a quiet moment.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  He reaches behind my back for a shampoo bottle. “I’m going to wash your hair,” he says.

  “Okay.”

  We switch places so my shoulders are under the stream. I dip my head back. James pours a little of the shampoo between his hands and rubs them together. He reaches up, watching me, and lathers his fingers through my hair.

  I close my eyes and fall victim to the sensations surrounding me. I can feel James’s sturdy fingers against my scalp.

  Mmmm, I sigh.

  The sound of the water hitting the tiled floor. This is so nice, I think.

  The fresh, citrusy scent of the shampoo.

  He works in silence. I can feel his intensity and concentration. His cock brushes against my leg. A tingling feeling erupts a
ll over my skin.

  I lose myself to the amazing massage he gives me. He rubs his fingers in small circles against my head, never with too much pressure, but never too softly, either. Then he spreads them and lets them encompass my entire skull. He works them through my hair from the roots to the tips.

  I marvel at how amazing being taken care of like this feels.

  “You like that?” James asks. His arousal grows larger against my hip.

  “Mhmm,” I say languidly.

  “That’s nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you next,” he whispers. He rinses the shampoo out of my hair.

  Then he brings his wet lips to my ear.

  “I’m going to make you come, Celeste,” he says. His hands crawl around my body and slide down my front. “But only if you tell me how much you want me.”

  His finger dips down and runs over my folds.

  “I want you, baby,” I say. I gasp as his fingers press into me. “Mmm, yes. I want you.”

  “Where do you want me?” he rumbles. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “I want you inside me,” I say. James picks up a bar of soap and uses it to lather my belly and chest.

  “What do you want inside of you?” he asks. His cock presses fully into my skin.

  “You,” I say, reaching back and grabbing him. He’s slick under the falling water. “I want this cock… I want all of you… filling me… to the very brim.”

  He grows as I stroke him. He rubs the soapy lather over my arms and back, then lets the shower wash it off.

  “Turn around, then,” he whispers.

  I do.

  “Lift your leg.”

  I place it against the side. I bite my lip involuntarily when I see his cock. It’s full and hard and looks so absolutely beautiful under the falling water.

  James leans down and soaps me up. Up one leg, and then the next. His hands work over my thighs, my calves, my ass. He cleans the spots between my toes.

  But he does not yet return to my pussy.

  “James…” I shudder.

  “Rinse off,” he tells me.

  Again, I simply comply.

  “I want to fuck you so very much,” he rasps. His cock is quivering against his stomach. “And I don’t want to hold back, Celeste.”

  “Then do it,” I breathe. I step into him and drape one leg around his waist. “Fuck me,” I whisper. “I’m ready. I’m not fragile. I’m so wet for you, James. My pussy… is throbbing.” I adjust my hips so he’s pressing into my entrance. “Do it. Fuck me. I can handle you.”

  “If you’re tired…”

  “I’m not.” I shut his protest down. “Fuck me, James, or lean back and let me do the work. Because I don’t see why we’re here together…” I put my arms around his neck, “…in the shower…” I push him back against the wall, “…if we’re not going to have sex.”

  I jump him right there, sinking all the way onto him. I wrap both legs around his hips and tangle my fingers in his hair.

  “Kiss me.”

  His mouth clasps onto mine immediately. I moan into the heated kiss and start pulsing my hips.

  At first, James lets me set the pace. As soon as he realizes I wasn’t kidding about being ready, he takes over.

  He rips his mouth away from mine and feasts on my breasts. His hands grip tight on my ass. He guides me into every spectacular thrust.

  I moan and let my head fall back. Hot water scorches my neck and chest. James keeps pumping into me, and I ride his cock as if it were made just for me. He’s such a perfect fit. I don’t know if it’s the love I feel for him that’s making me loopy or the all-consuming lust that he demands from me, but I am certain I never want another man.

  Not ever.

  “You’re mine,” James grunts. “You’re mine, Celeste, do you understand? Do you fucking hear me…” He attacks my breasts with his mouth, and I cry out at the amazing mix of pleasured pain. “…woman? You—are—fucking—MINE!”

  He shoots inside me, punctuating his orgasm with an earth-rattling roar. I shatter completely at the same time.

  The wave hits me and lifts me higher than I’ve ever been. I soar, clenched against him, in ecstasy because of him, and when I come down, the words tumble out of me with no regard.

  “Yours,” I gasp. “Yours, and only yours. Forever.”

  ***

  James drives me to my exam. I’m afire from the shower high. Despite spending half the night vomiting, I actually feel fresh and well-rested.

  Chalk that up to amazing James-sex.

  “Good luck.” He smacks my ass on the way out. I jump. He gives the most mischievous grin. “I’ll be waiting. You’d better fucking ace it, woman. Or else I’m leaving you.”

  I give him the finger. He laughs and winks. I close the door and wait for him to drive off.

  He doesn’t. Instead, he makes a shooing motion with one hand. “Go on,” he mouths through the window. “Away you go.”

  I just shake my head at him, a big stupid grin on my face. I blow him a kiss, turn around, and hurry toward the main building.

  ***

  Three hours later, I emerge and discover James parked in exactly the same spot.

  “So?” he asks as I climb in. “How did it go?”

  “Hard. I think I might have flunked.”

  “What?”

  “Kidding!” I beam at him. “Aced it. Just as you asked.”

  “Good girl,” he smiles. “How do you want to celebrate?”

  “Celebrate?” I ask.

  “Yes, celebrate,” James repeats. “This was your last exam, wasn’t it? You’ve finished the term.”

  “Not quite,” I say. “There’s still the one from your class.”

  “What?” he asks. He looks at me in confusion. “No there isn’t.”

  “There is. Alfred told us. It’s on Friday, the last day before break.”

  “No. What? There’s no fucking way!”

  “Why not?” I ask. “You were suspended. Thanks to Summer.” I give him a look. “Are you certain you still want me to reach out to her?”

  “I don’t care about Summer now,” he says garishly. “Why the fuck is there an exam for my class?”

  “You sound angry,” I say.

  “I fucking am!” He slams the wheel. “That’s bullshit, Celeste. There’s not supposed to be a final exam.”

  “Well, you relinquished control over your course,” I tell him. “Why does this have you so upset? Did you not know about it?”

  “No!” James says. “No, and that’s what pisses me off!”

  “It was posted on the website,” I tell him. “It’s been up there for days.”

  He barks a sharp laugh. “You think I look at the website?”

  “It’s your class. I’d expect you to.”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “No, I don’t but that’s irrelevant. What is relevant is that this isn’t what was supposed to happen.”

  “Huh?”

  “When I stepped down, voluntarily…” James takes a deep breath. “…I did so with the express condition that the grades I assigned were the final ones.” His hands tighten on the wheel. The leather screeches. “The fucking asshole reneged on his word.”

  “Who? Alfred?”

  “Yes. Alfred!” James exclaims. “Who else? Who has the power to implement something like that?”

  “Summer’s sleeping with him,” I say. “Or at least, she was. Do you think that affected things?”

  “Oh, I have no doubt,” James says sourly. “Dammit! No wonder the man’s become so fucking distant. We were never the greatest friends, but we always got along. You saw us.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I did.”

  “I’m going to fucking talk to him. He has no right forcing my students into an exam you weren’t prepared for.”

  “He gave us time,” I say. “He scheduled it at the last possible moment.”

  “Celeste, you don’t get it. There was never going to be a final exam, because I neve
r wrote one! That’s not even the point. The point is that I submitted all your grades. Those are the marks you deserve. I gave them fairly. I assigned them based on what I saw from each of you over the course of the term. It was a holistic score. There’s no fucking exam that’ll tell anybody anything. Hell, I barely stuck to the fucking syllabus! How can they give you a fucking examination! Who’s even grading it?”

  “Alfred said it’d be the administrative board,” I explain. “James, I don’t think it’s such a big deal. We’ve had almost two weeks to prepare. It’s not like they sprung this on us.”

  “It’s the principle of it,” James ground. “They think they can take me away from my students and use their own fucking bullshit metrics to alter the grades that I gave? Fuck. That.” He revs the engine. “Alfred did this. I’m sure of it. He must have had the admin board’s support. But they never heard my side of the story.”

  He drives straight into traffic with a sharp left.

  “They don’t know about the deal Alfred made with me when I agreed to step down while pending investigation. I bet they never even saw the grades I assigned! Christ.” He shakes his head. “I’ll get this fixed, Celeste. I promise you. I won’t have any of my students forced into yet another entirely unnecessary examination. Thank you, for telling me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known.”

  ***

  James drives fast. A few blocks from his apartment, I get extraordinarily queasy.

  I grip the inside of the door and start breathing hard through my nose. My gut is churning. I know at any minute, I’m liable to puke.

  I try to fight down the nausea. We’re so close. James turns a corner, and I see the building before us.

  But I can’t hold it in.

  “James,” I say. “James!”

  He turns his head. “What?”

  “Stop the car.”

  “What?”

  “Stop the car!” I shriek. A burp comes up. I taste vomit in my mouth. “Now!”

  James takes another look at me, and understanding shows on his face.

  He hits the brakes. Horns blare behind us. I’m in the process of reaching for the door handle when a sudden convulsion rocks me.