“I meant that you’re the kindest, goodest person I know.” She smiles. “And I don’t want her to ruin you.”
“She won’t ruin me—” I begin to defend.
“And if doing bad things makes a person bad, then she’s downright villainous,” she snaps, her eyes widening.
“What has she done that makes you hate her so much?” I ask. She seems to really despise Red for some reason, and a part of me doesn’t think it’s just because of a few arrests for small misdemeanors or something. She hates her for a larger crime that doesn’t involve jail cells. And I want to know what exactly.
She seems lost for words, and I frown. “I just don’t trust her is all. She’s done awful, terrible things.”
“Like?” I inquire. “I think I deserve to know why to stay away from her, don’t you? Otherwise you have a vendetta against her I can’t help or encourage. It’s not fair to Red or me. The girl may put me through hell and back and may be stubborn, but she’s made being here in college actually worth it.”
When she doesn’t say anything, I sigh in disappointment. “I’ll be careful, okay? I can promise you that. But you have to promise to let up about her.” She huffs incredulously and shoots me a wide-eyed look. “Come on, Rach. You’re my best friend. I’d hate for you to hate the girl I really, really like.”
“How can you like someone like her?” she snaps.
I open my mouth to snap back and tell her her hatred for Red is crazy when I see her walking toward us. She’s not doing anything that makes her stand out. Her hair is untamed, as usual. The sweatpants she’s wearing hides all of her soft curves, and blood is seeping through the bandage on her hand. But still, there’s the way the moonlight hits her golden hair that makes her shine, makes her skin glow, and I find myself falling a little deeper as I watch her brilliant blue eyes shine at the sight of me. That damned little dimple pops next to her mouth.
And I breathlessly answer Rachel, “How can I not…?”
***
On the following Wednesday, Red and I are working on our short story for English. The deadline’s creeping closer and closer, and because she was distant for a whole week, I worked on it by myself. But it turns out my writing skills are even shittier than I thought they were. So she and I are working out the kinks and making the story actually legible.
We’re currently jotting down important points for a chapter, but I can’t seem to focus on anything but her. She isn’t dressed how she normally is. She’s wearing lighter toned jeans, a white V-neck that doesn’t have tears or pins, white Converse. Her face is glowing with the aid of the direct sunlight beaming through the cracked window. I eye her glossy lips—when she came over they were the first things I noticed—and wonder if they’re the flavored kind.
She looks different but beautiful all the same.
“It’s rude to stare,” she grumbles, peeking a glare beneath her slightly tamed blonde curls.
I reach out and push some behind her pierced ears. She has an entire row of shiny silver and colorful earrings decorating her ear. “More like admiring.” My voice comes out rugged. I notice the slight tug of her lips, the emotion crossing her milky blue eyes.
“Well, find another time to do it,” she commands, but I just stare at her lips. I like the way she talks—so slow, yet confident—and her lips look very provocative when she does. She’s talking, talking, talking—
“Ow!” I yelp and rub my arm that she pinched. “What was that for?”
“You’re not listening to me!” she exclaims, then smacks my leg with the spiral notebook we’re using to take down notes. All I can do is laugh. She looks ridiculously cute when she’s mad. Usually her scowling and plotting someone’s death looks menacing, but to me, she looks like a pissed-off bunny. Cheeks puffed and red, provocative lips moving a mile a minute.
She hits me again.
“I am talking, prep—” she begins to shout.
I lean forward and press my lips to hers. The usual sparks of electricity run through my veins, hitting snags and striking my heart. I explode under her smooth, glossy lips. Her small hands drop the notebook and grip my shoulder. Nails free of black nail polish dig into my skin, then her fingers gently grip onto the back of my neck. My blood sings under my flesh when she makes this sound. It’s not a moan, but it’s not a whisper. It’s something in between, guttural and raw and heavenly.
I grab the back of her leg that’s wrapping around me and put my weight on her, bringing her to her back. I kiss beneath her full lips, sucking gently on her soft skin. “So beautiful,” I murmur as I paint her creamy skin on her neck with my mouth, biting gently, creating red marks. She moans my name, and it encourages me to run a hand under her loose white shirt.
“Noah,” she groans, arching her back, pressing her chest into me. Slowly, to torture her just a little bit, I glide my hand down to the waistband of her jeans. Her hips buck slightly as I pop open the button.
“Can I touch you?” I ask.
“Please,” she pleads softly.
I don’t hesitate and push my hand into her black underwear. The second I touch her, all wet and needy, she sucks in a breath and shudders out an exhale. I watch her face as I toy with her while kissing her neck. From beneath my lashes, she has hers shut closed; her glossy pink lips part, eliciting sweet moans that make me hard instantly. So hard my breaths come out in pants as I suck her skin a little harder, rub a little faster. I grind myself against her thigh, and her hands pull me closer.
I press a finger against her, move slowly…and she gasps, fingers scraping against my heated skin under my blue shirt. She yanks it up, and I grind into her a little more, pleasure teasing me and my dick. I want to rip her panties off and my jeans and fuck her so badly, it’s killing me just to imagine how amazing she feels on the inside.
“You like that, Rossa?” I whisper haughtily in her ear.
She moans. “Yes. Please. More.” She’s dragging her nails up my back, and a whisper of a tingling sensation runs straight to my dick. I make an unholy sound, and she moans so loudly, so deeply, it motivates me to push a little harder, rub a little slower, then faster, then repeat.
Her breathing is out of whack, her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. I watch with satisfaction and absolute awe as she gulps and moans, eyelashes fluttering and squeezing tightly. Her fingers are clawing at the base of my neck, her hips pushing upward, greedy for more. So I give it to her.
I add another finger, curl them, and feel her tighten around me.
“Noah. Yes,” she pants out, biting her lip.
I lean forward and kiss along her sharp-as-a-razor jawline. I hover my lips over hers and lick her bottom lip. She makes this deep growl-like moan, and I smile softly. My tongue plays with her lip ring, and she’s losing it, gripping my biceps, nails puncturing, my name leaving her trembling lips. I grind against her harder, and I can feel myself reaching my own climax, just by basically dry-humping her. This is insane.
“Noah!” she screams my name.
Her hips buck up, legs shake, and her breathing is frantic. I reach my own climax and mumble into her warm skin. I press my lips onto hers and, when our mouths drop open, she lets out the sexiest sound, between a growl and my name. Pure bliss is evident as she pinches her eyes closed and bites her lip.
Her eyelashes flutter, and I kiss her deeply, caressing her tongue with mine. I suck and she seems to come again, moaning my name against our feverish mouths colliding and tasting and biting and teasing.
She breathes heavily, lips red and puffy from our rough, passionate kiss. “No one’s ever made me come like that,” she admits in a fluffy tone, almost sedated, with the way her eyes flutter and she subtly gasps for breath. I decide I love the sight of her after I make her come. I love the flush in her cheeks and the soft stutter of her chest.
“And no other guy ever will,” I say playfully and bring my fingers to my mouth. She watches with hooded eyes as I bring the fingers that were just adorned by her body.
&
nbsp; “Didn’t know you could be so sexy,” she murmurs jokingly.
I thread my fingers through my hair, staring at her staring up at me. Cheeks flushed, golden hair cascading on a pillow, pouty pink lips pulled into a genuine grin—she looks like an angel. I can’t even help it. I pull out my phone and take a picture of her.
“Stop!” she shrieks, covering her face in such a cute way, I take a few more at different angles.
“Baby, move your hands.” Baby?
She peeks between her long fingers, nose wrinkled. “Baby?” she questions, and I blush. I have no idea what came over me. I move to take it back, but she sits up and wraps her arms around me. She perches her chin on my stomach and stares up beneath her long, dark eyelashes. “I like it,” she decides and gently presses her soft lips on my skin. She’s genuine and not mocking.
An emotion so strong swells in my heart it makes it hard to breathe. I lean down by her head. Neither of us says anything. I’m too busy admiring her features, and by her flitting eyes, I can assume she’s doing the same. I glide a fingertip along her collarbone and listen to her breathing pick up as I trace an outline of an exotic flower tattoo.
“Go on a date with me,” I say. I look at her, hopeful.
She’s staring at my lips, her own tugged up in a soft smile. “What’s in it for me?”
A brow shoots up. “Maybe a little of this…” I lean down and kiss her chin. “And this…” Then her nose, which wrinkles, making me smile widely. “Possibly some of this…” I press my lips onto hers, and the world goes silent. My heart crumbles and rebuilds itself. The kiss is gentle and filled with little zaps of electricity.
“I’ll think about it,” she teases against my mouth. I growl and push her onto her back, bite onto her jaw. She shrieks and laughs. “Okay, okay! Yes, I will go out with you,” she promises, but I don’t stop nibbling my way down to her neck. Her snorting laughter and body spazzing beneath me in glee makes me glaze over with emotion.
Chapter Thirty
I’m taking Red Sylvetti on a date tonight. Red Sylvetti, notorious badass girl that has dangerous, dark rumors of murder swirling over her head. I don’t care about the rumor, though. She told me it was fake. Obviously. As much as she loves wearing leather and an expression that could kill, I don’t believe she could actually kill a person. I may not have known her long, but I know her well enough to know she couldn’t be that harmful.
Anyway, she’s a lot to handle and complicated and a real fireball, and I’m going on a real date with her tonight.
I have no idea what I was thinking when I asked her out. Not that I didn’t want to. I had been yearning to take her out on a proper date and establish whatever the hell we are when I started falling for her. I normally have enough confidence to fill two cargo shipments, but it seemed to deflate like a sad balloon around her. Even more so whenever I thought about asking her out. Actually working up the courage to say the words will you go out with me? I imagined her screaming no before pistol-whipping me, but with her motorcycle.
Obviously she didn’t do any of that. She smiled at me like she had been waiting for me to ask her out. My heart clenches at the image of her giggling beneath me as I covered her skin with my greedy lips. I have never seen her so happy, so at peace. The fact that she only appears that way around me speaks volumes and makes me feel accomplished, in a way. Because it means I can crack that barrier she has built in front of her heart, and with each strike I make, I’m closer to finally knocking it down.
My phone buzzing across my study desk yanks me out of my thoughts. I pick it up and look at the screen. A grin creeps onto my face as I read the text.
Red: I’m outside. Wow me.
Noah: Prepare to create a shrine dedicated to my wow-factor.
I playfully reply before looking in the mirror for the millionth time. I asked her out a few hours ago and, since, have set up something special. I hope she likes it; that’s all that matters. I fiddle with my unbuttoned white dress shirt, then look over my black fitted dress pants and slim suit jacket. She replies as I’m fiddling with my short curly brown hair that’s slightly moussed.
Red: I’ll just add to the one I already have.
A snort leaves my lips as I pat my pocket for my wallet and keys.
I reply as I’m jogging down the stairs:
Ditto.
A few guys woot and pat me on the shoulder as I pass them. As if going on a proper date that isn’t snagging a seat at McDonald’s or hanging out here isn’t valid. I give them all eye rolls at their teasing, flicking them the middle finger.
“Leaving already?” Mike asks, leaving the living room to walk up to me. He doesn’t even attempt to hide the broad smirk on his brown skin. “You not gonna let me give you a good luck kiss before you go?” He puckers his lips and leans forward.
“I don’t need your crusty lips,” I joke, and he chuckles, rolling back onto the heels of his feet. Noticing Ty engaged in a video game, I nod to him and say, “Why don’t you give that kiss to Ty? Heard him crying over Lyndsey dropping his ass last night.”
“I heard that, and it’s not true, you fucker!” he shouts.
“See you around. Have fun, all right?” Mike laughs, giving me a bro hug.
“Yeah, I’ll see you guys later. Have fun with your boy-toy.” I pull back and push him toward the living room.
“You know I will.” He struts into the room filled with guys jamming on game controllers, beer cans clouding their feet. “Oh, Ty!” I hear him say in a high-pitched voice and listen to Ty groan and cuss at him in return. I laugh and shake my head at them before stepping outside.
I spot her the second I am out of the house. My heart freezes and so does time as I take a long, admiring sweep of her. She’s wearing this short black dress with straps and a black peacoat. Her golden blonde hair is perfectly tamed and lays over her right shoulder. And she has her lips painted this gorgeous, make-me-sin red. She looks absolutely stunning, breathtaking, really. I struggle to breathe as I walk over to her.
“Wow,” I say in awe, sweeping my eyes over her again. I can’t help but sound surprised; I just never expected…this. There aren’t enough words in this world to describe how incredible she looks.
“Did you hear that?” She cups a hand over her ear, leaning in as if whispering a secret, and says, “I think I just heard a few candles and photos of my face joining your shrine.” The tips of my fingertips buzz at her making fun of me.
I chuckle and stuff my hands in my pockets. “Har-har,” I say, and she smirks, then looks me up and down with the same amount of awe I showed her. Her head cocks to the side, tongue playing with her lip ring. I stare at her mouth, then her eyes. Her vibrant blue eyes spark with a heavy emotion as they meet mine, the tip of her mouth upward. “And I’m pretty sure I just saw a cardboard cut-out of me join the bulletin board of chunks of my hair.”
She grins. “You’re a total stud. Happy now?” she asks sarcastically, and I nod frantically.
“Very,” I answer, smiling.
“Great. Now that I’ve stroked your ego, can we get going?” she asks, pouting. “I didn’t spend two hours getting ready to have us chatting outside of your frat house.”
She’s right; I want to get this night started.
“You are very right.” I take her hand. “But you dressing up wouldn’t have been a waste. You look really beautiful.” I watch for a reaction. She looks away in an attempt to hide her soft smile and the redness in her cheeks.
“Fuck off.” She pushes into me, but I just laugh at her brutishness and wrap an arm around her shoulder. Her hand shoots up and plays with my long fingers. I guide her over to the black town car I rented for the night. I really should get my own car; it’d be nice to have one of my own instead of borrowing Mike’s or having Red drive us around whenever she decides to whisk me away.
“What’s this?” she asks skeptically, eyeing the sleek black 2016 BMW 2-Series. “Besides being a dope-ass car.” She whistles as I prop open the passeng
er door. I guide her inside, and she openly gawks at the velvet leather seats and high-tech GPS. I laugh under my breath. She is such a car geek. I wonder who she got her love of cars from. I’m guessing her father. The image of a little, sassy Red helping her father fix a car’s engine makes me smile.
“Rental for the night,” I tell her as I slide into the car. The seats warm at my touch, and I try not to close my eyes in bliss. I jam the key in the ignition and start up the car with a low purr. She cocks an eyebrow, the pierced one, and then looks over at me. “Impressive?” I take off onto the road and admire how smooth it feels.
She leans back in her seat, scoffing. “It’s all right, I guess, for a showy car. Really suits you.” She looks over at me with a grin.
“Why, thank you…I think.” I scrunch my eyebrows. I can’t really tell when she’s making fun of me or being genuine.
“Compliment, prep.” She pats my arm, chuckling at my expense. I blush and look ahead to avoid crashing this beauty of a car.
Since I don’t know this town at all, I have the address of the location of our date plugged into the GPS but was able to block out the name of it. Hopefully she doesn’t know the town too well to recognize street names and such downtown.
About twenty minutes flows between us without much of a conversation, which is my fault. I’m admittedly nervous about tonight. I haven’t really been on a date since the summer. And God knows how that relationship turned out. Ever since, I’ve been screwing around with girls, minus the roses and restaurants.
Who needs all of that when you’re not even going to remember the girl’s name in the morning after boning her?
I sound like such a tool because, honestly, I was one. I didn’t care as much as I should have about the girls I messed around with. I used them for two purposes: pleasure and painting. They were a means to an end, and I hate myself for it.
Red: Burning Desire (Spectrum Series Book 7) Page 20