Anyway, after it was all safe downstairs, we took a few shots, danced in the pit, and kissed some more. We were like lovers separated after a century spent apart. I don’t know how to feel about that…happy. I feel happy, I decide, feeling the smile before really knowing.
But I don’t remember much after that.
Could she have just left…again?
I’m searching through my puffy white bedsheets like a zombie looking for a brain when I hear metal grinding gently and the constant beating of water stop instantly…all coming from the bathroom. I didn’t even hear the water until now. I sit up the second the door swings open and Red emerges wearing a towel…and nothing else.
I try my best to not let my jaw drop, but I just woke up and have very limited energy to actually think. I must look like a rabid teenage boy as I drag my eyes up her long, long legs dripping with water, all the way up to her busty chest being held up with one of her arms, the one with the sleeve of tattoos. Beyond the normal yowza factor muddled by my teenage boy genes, she looks very cute and freshly gorgeous. Like a gently plucked sunflower.
“Lion got your tongue?” she says.
After centuries of ogling and admiring, I focus on what she said and chuckle a little. “Lion? I think you’re still a little drunk, because the phrase is ‘cat got your tongue.’”
“If it were a cat, I’d flick the fucker away with a flick of my wrist,” she claims around an air of arrogance. “A lion, now…then I’d be a goner.” She walks over to me, eyes squinting lightly at the ceiling as she continues, “That and I wouldn’t be able to tell you that you were blushing like a little schoolgirl when I walked in.”
“Oh.” I blush some more, and she chuckles. “I was not blushing…” She narrows her eyes, and I end up running a hand over my hand before muttering, “Much.”
She laughs broader, and I indirectly focus my attention on the dusty pink of her cheeks and the glow of her eyes the color of cerulean fire. Ablaze and quick to scorch me until I’m nothing but ashes, a victim of Red Sylvetti. A willing victim, I correct, as she gets closer.
“You’re too innocent, Noah Wells,” she says and walks over to me.
Each stride is sure and sexy, with her legs wet and slender; and I swear they appeared in my dreams sometime before. My breath hitches when her knees meet the bed, a few inches away from me. So far, yet so terribly, teasingly close. I could just reach out and pull her in and—
“You are absolutely insatiable, aren’t ya, boy?” She pokes a teasing finger at my chest. She just loves to tease, doesn’t she? I bet it’s a favored hobby of hers. The fire in her eyes confirms my thoughts.
I quickly clasp my fingers around her wrist and tug her closer. Her breathing visibly gets stuck in her throat as she gulps at the sudden action. She looks deliciously cute when I catch her off guard. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, she has me under a spell that watches every nervous tongue flick and holds her sparkling gaze.
“How could I not be? You incite a hunger in me I never knew to be possible, Red.” My voice is low and lazy like molasses, smooth like velvet. Nervous tongue flip there. Glimmering gaze there. I hold her intense, soft eyes and watch her tongue run across the pink valley of her bottom lip.
“Is that so?” she says, taking enough control of her staggering breathing to make her voice firm.
Her hands squeeze my shoulders, then gently work their way up to my neck, then around it as she plops onto her butt. Her slender legs wind around me, and I literally melt, shoulders sagging and mouth jarring open and everything. Laughing and obviously liking the power switch, she pushes at my chest, straddling me.
“Are you hungry for me now?” she asks softly, lashes fluttering.
For fuck’s sake…
“Ravenous,” is my shaky reply.
Smirking at my shy response, she leans down and licks my lips. “How about now?” she asks even softer, raspier. She is a siren at heart. Swaying her hips against me. Wet to the touch. Hair wild and lips smelling like pure honey.
I groan, and my hands fly to her barely covered ass. She moans and closes her eyes as I roam her round ass, squeezing and pushing the towel up slightly. Inching. Teasing. Payback. I am going to pay for this. But like I said, she makes me hungry. Creates this hole that needs to be filled with her kisses, her touch.
“Starved,” I say, nearly growling in hunger. Hunger for Red. Hunger for my Red.
Licking her lips, so close that her tongue grazes my own lips, she clutches my wrinkled t-shirt and whispers ever so softly, “Then have me.”
Don’t have to ask me twice.
Gripping her ass, I swivel us around, flipping her onto her back. She squeals, but it’s very short lived as I spread her legs using my knees. Her chest falls and fills with emotion as it sprawls onto her neck and cheek with redness. I stare into her eyes, she stares back with frazzled anticipation before slowly pulling down the small towel. I grow hungrier and hungrier, the pain becoming more apparent as my eyes meet her chest. I bite my lip and suppress the groan as I stare at her beauty.
“So beautiful,” I murmur, voice heavy with lust. I lean down and cover the top of her right breast with kisses. Licking. Nipping. I tease the pink hard nipple and gently cup and fondle the other. She moans and writhes gently under me, pressing into me.
“Noah,” she whispers and gets a hold of my wild, untamed hair. Her fingernails drag down my scalp and grip gently, then hard. I moan at the feeling of her tugging and massaging me and nearly come in my pants as she grinds against me.
“Red…” I trail off as I lift my mouth, planting small kisses across her chest to her other breast. She begins to say something, but the moment I flick my tongue against her, hardening it, her words melt into a soft moan.
“Noah, please touch—” she begins.
“Heyo, motherfucker! I brought donuts!” A sudden shout followed by the door cracking open interrupts Red’s moaning plea.
“Ty!” I scream and throw a pillow at his head. Luckily for him, he ducks, and it goes flying down the stairs. I hear a little giggle from Red. I blush and sit up quickly, helping her wrap the towel around her chest. Marked by me. So pink and perky and…I am going to fucking murder this boy.
I would have checked to make sure the door was locked, but I was too caught up in tasting Red, and boy did she taste beautifully delicious…like a sucker I didn’t ever want to fade from my taste buds.
“Sorry, sorry!” he yelps, throwing his free arm across his eyes. “I uh…” He slowly inches over to his bed, trips over a shoe, and falls onto his bed. But to his credit, he doesn’t look up or even peek, though he’s a total creep half of the time. “Didn’t mean to…interrupt. I can leave.”
Yes, please!
“No, it’s okay. I was feeling like breakfast at the diner,” Red says, and my heart shatters into a million pieces. She stands up and bends over to whisper in my ear, “We can continue where we left off later.”
“Promise?” I almost reach out and drag her onto my lap to finish what I was so close to starting. But Tyler mumbling apologies and suggestions to join stops me. I throw a pillow at his head at his stupid suggestion and roll my eyes in frustration. Asshole.
“You’re not the only hungry one here, prep,” she assures me, her voice heavy and dreamy.
“Get dressed in there and…” Grabbing hold her hands, I smile lightly. “Make sure to lock the door.”
“Duh. I have to keep that idiot out.” She begins to pull away, but I tighten my hold and brush an unruly lock of hair behind her ear, holding her gaze.
“I wasn’t talking about him,” I whisper, and she gulps.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Fuck pancakes…we’ll have some chocolate cheesecake,” Red orders with a big, hungry swipe of her tongue.
I capture the action with a long, assessing gaze, then chuckle at her words and frenzied big eyes. She looks like someone’s pinched the life into her cheeks, leaving them splotchy red, hair thrown up into a messy
bun, tendrils curly and wild. It takes everything in me to not reach over and tuck them safely behind her small, blush-tipped ears.
“Sweet tooth much?” I tease her as the older waitress walks away with our menus.
I didn’t take Red for the kind of girl who ate dessert for breakfast, but I don’t want her to retract her order, however slim the chance of that happening. The girl would think twice before accepting water from me if she were on fire. Obviously she has trust issues stemming from something that happened in her past. I want to know what it was, to assure her that she can trust me, but I don’t want to push.
She flips me off and rests her feet on my lap underneath the table. “What’s wrong with something sweet in the morning? You got your fill this morning.” I choke on my ice water, and she claps her hands, drawing her legs into a cross under her side of the booth. “Was it something I said?” her sweet, but teasing voice echoes as she brings her cup to her lips.
“You’re just lucky Ty walked in when he did; otherwise I would have tasted something else…” I blush at my own words and instantly regret speaking my dirty mind, but by the raise of her pierced brow, I can tell she doesn’t mind one bit. Actually, she looks kind of…flushed, if the red color swelling on her cheeks is any indication.
“We are on a roll of being lusty teens,” Red teases, rolling her straw paper into a tiny ball.
“You started it,” I point out, ripping my own straw paper into small pieces.
I have to keep my hands busy to avoid taking hers. Or pushing those frisky hairs behind her ears. As she bad mouths a guy with wide eyes staring at her a few tables away, I push away the urge to give him something else to stare at and give in to my urge. I lean across the table and push a wispy lock behind her ear. Her mouth parts gently, and she clicks her tongue in her cheek, ducking her head slightly.
“Why are you so sweet, Noah?” she asks, sounding genuinely confused.
My eyebrows crease, and I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Stuffing the paper ball she made, she says quietly, “Most guys either want to get in my pants and just be dicks because, well, most guys are dicks. Except you, of course.” She pauses and seems to struggle as she bites her lip, tongue poking her lip ring. “You’re…different. Why?”
“Because you deserve sweetness. Speaking of which…” I point to the incoming slices of cake behind her, but she doesn’t even perk up as the plates are served.
“Enjoy, and call me if you need anything,” the nice woman says.
“Of course. Thanks so much.” I offer her a kind smile, which makes Red grow an inch toward me, eyes searching for some sign of deceit. But when she finds none, I dig my fork into the cheesecake and take a bite. Instantly, I groan at the delicious creaminess.
“You have to try it—”
“I don’t deserve sweetness,” she interrupts. There’s a hint of something behind her words that leaves me shuddering. Literally. Sureness? Absoluteness? Like, she committed a heinous crime and is positive she deserves nothing but bitterness. I sure as hell won’t let that happen, I decide as I dig into the cake.
“Yes, you do, Red. Open your mouth.” I guide the forkful of cheesecake to her lips. But she just stares at me like I’m some sort of puzzle with a cash prize on the other side of me. “Please, Red.” I can’t help the pleading in my voice.
Her brows curve downward, and I think she’s going to deny my offer of the sweetness—the kindness, the best—that should come with expectation, not hesitation, but she opens her mouth. Smiling of relief, I gently guide the fork in. Her lips clamp around the utensil, and I slide it out, leaving the cake on her tongue.
I think and roll her words around in my head as she chews and I cut another small piece.
“What happened to you that makes you believe you don’t deserve anything good? Me included,” I ask her before I can stop myself, but I don’t think I would have stopped myself. Maybe asked slower for her to process it. Either way, I have a desire to know to reassure her otherwise.
She stiffens and quickly finishes chewing. “Nothing,” she lies.
But instead of jumping on her for the answer, I let it go. “Okay,” I say with a small, apologetic smile.
“Okay?” she mumbles around a bite of cheesecake.
I chuckle at her puffy cheeks and nod. “Yes, okay.” I take a sip of my water and tap my fingers along my hairline. Maybe I should start off slower. “Can I ask about your childhood?”
“Why?” she snaps, offended.
“I just want to know some more about you.” I hold up my hands with a smile. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I’ll say mine was quite…lonely. I was an only child. I had friends. I actually had a best friend…” I trail off as I think about her. “But we grew apart. But luckily, we reconnected over the summer. What about you?”
She bites her lip ring, a crease between her brows. I don’t think she’s going to answer when she says, “It was fine…I guess. I mean, my dad was dead before I came outta my mom.” She slowly sinks her fork into her cake, forlorn. “My, uh, grandparents raised me. Basically, after she was murdered—” She swallows thickly, and her eyes grow empty.
“I’m so sorry.” I place my hand over hers that’s resting on the table. She flicks her eyes up to meet mine, and they light up with a bursting color before something washes over them like a rough wave, and she rips her hand from mine. I try not to look hurt as she continues, pushing a lock behind her ear.
“Doesn’t matter. She’s gone…” She shrugs again. I can practically see her pushing the solemn thought behind a familiar, rusty cage in those brilliant blue eyes of hers. Taking a rejuvenating breath, she sits up and meets my eyes with a small smile. “I just had one annoying-ass sister to keep me company as we grew up in lame-old Washington.”
“You’re from Washington?” I ask curiously.
“Yup.” Her eyes squint, and I notice the hesitance when she asks, “Where you from?” like this is the first time she’s ever talked about more than just quick hookups and motorcycles or whatever she talks about.
“New York.”
“Upper East Side?” she teases.
I blush and shrug. “Upper East…Queens?”
She chuckles and digs into her pie. “Always wanted to visit New York. The place looks amazing, especially at night.”
“Oh. You mean Times Square. Maybe we can visit together one day.” I want to push the words back in my mouth because I made it sound like we’d be…together? We’d be something long enough to visit New-freaking-York.
But she doesn’t seem to mind because her smile widens a tad. “That’d be great, prep.” Her cheeks brighten to a rosy color, and I smile, watching it dim as she coughs and changes the subject. “So. That mural of the city, state? The one on your wall…what the hell is up with that?”
“Oh.” I rub my neck. “I had a bit of insomnia one night and ended up drawing…that.”
Her brows rise like she’s never heard of such a thing. “So you’re like some sort of artistic genius or something?”
“Just a li’l bit.” I shrug, hiding my smile. But it comes out anyway when she narrows her eyes at me skeptically. “Okay, I can paint the Mona Lisa while blindfolded. It’s one of my many amazing talents. Give me a bottle of ketchup, and I can recreate Starry Night.”
“Shut up.” She throws her head back in throaty laughter. Her eyes shut, and she hugs her knees. I almost take a picture of her in her most gleeful state yet…okay, I do. What! Don’t judge me. She’s beautiful…
When she opens her eyes, she says, “Prep, sometimes you’re just too much for me.”
“Why do you call me prep?” I ask.
“I mean, besides the khakis and the fact that you reek of trust funds?” She scrunches up her nose, shoving a fork of cheesecake in her mouth.
“Shut up.” I throw one of the torn-up papers at her. It merely floats right back to me, and it’s back to that adorable laughter of hers. My heart freezes in awe of her
.
Her phone buzzing across the white bistro table yanks her back to reality too quick, too damn soon. She loses the luster in her eyes as she cranes her neck, flips the phone over, and stares at whatever’s on the screen. I want to crane my neck too, to know who exactly just ruined this perfect moment of this perfect girl, but I refrain myself and casually bite into one of the last pieces of my cake.
“Something wrong?” I ask her before sipping on my melting cup of water.
“No,” she lies, voice clipped.
But I don’t push.
I just nod and offer her a smile. “Mind giving me a ride back to the house?” I lightly tease the idea of her ditching me here like she did at the motel. My heart screams at me, curses me to the moon and back, for giving her the idea. But it doesn’t see the gleam in her eyes, doesn’t hear the laugh in her voice.
“Only if you rain-check your dessert this morning.” She slides out of the booth.
I follow her, throwing down a twenty. “As long as it’ll always be open for me.”
Stepping up to me, chest to chest, her body heatwave crashing into my cool blue hue, she whispers, “Oh. I wouldn’t leave these, prep.” She reaches up and glides a finger down my lips.
I connect my eyes with her teasing ones and sink my teeth onto her finger.
She doesn’t even flinch.
Just smirks.
Fucking dangerous, I tell you…so why am I smiling?
***
I’m practically bouncing on the balls of my feet as I jog up the frat house’s stairs. I bypass a couple of guys bringing in a boatload of cases of Corona. Doped up with Red’s presence, I slap them on the back and give them friendly smiles.
“Good day, boys.” I bid them a wave as they branch off into the kitchen.
They raise their brows but continue crab-walking with the heavy cases.
“What’s got you so giddy?” Mike asks as he walks by, texting on his phone. He stops to give me a once-over, searching for the answer. But he can’t see my Red-shaped heart pounding to the beat of her laugh.
Red: Burning Desire (Spectrum Series Book 7) Page 14