Chapter 20
“W hat else does this place have?” I ask as we enter the large gym with mirrored walls and flooring that has a slight bounce to it. I didn’t even know the manor had a gym, let alone where it was. In my defense, Ever hasn’t gone down to the basement.
“Have you seen the theater room yet?”
I spin back around. “You got a fucking movie theater in your house?”
Ever rolls her eyes. “It’s not that big. It only seats ten.”
“Only.” I scoff. “I see why you haven’t been in many movie theaters.”
“You remember that?”
“Yeah…” I thought it was sad actually, but obviously I was wrong. Munreaux Manor has everything anyone could ever dream of. Excluding school, Ever has no need to leave it.
She busies herself with the sound system, putting on “Jealousy” by FKA twigs and Rema.
Her natural blush is gone, as is her uniform—at least the skirt and top. She’s in another pair of briefs, these ones black…along with a sports bra. Essentially, she’s down to her underwear, while I’m not but wishing I was.
Jesus. It’s hot in here all of a sudden.
Glaciers. Frozen lakes. Icicles. All cold shit.
A sneaker in her hand, Ever leads me out to the middle of the floor.
“Whose shoe is that?” I ask, eyeing the shoe skeptically. It looks like a guy’s.
“Mine.”
“You don’t wear shoes like that.”
She shrugs. “It’s still mine.”
I take the sneaker and give it a closer inspection. “Did you add these?” On both sides, around the black logo, are intricately drawn bees.
“Yes.”
“They’re really good.”
Color fills her cheeks again.
Without acknowledging the compliment, she slips the shoe from my hold.
“All right. Let’s start with the basics. As a base, you need to lift with your legs, almost like you’re doing squats with your weight in your heels. Your core has to be tight, endurance on point. And never, ever take your eyes off the flyer.”
Putting her fist in the shoe, she holds it up for me, sole-side up, the toe closest to me.
“Now, to grab the flyer—”
“Why do you keep saying ‘the flyer’? Just say you. You’re my flyer. You’re who I’m doing this for and you’re the only one I’m ever gonna do this for.”
Ever pauses, her eyes locked on the shoe.
“To grab…me, you’re going to use your palms to catch my feet, and you want to cover as much of each foot as possible.”
She awkwardly demonstrates how to grab the shoe’s sole for me to copy. I think I’ve nailed it until she starts moving my fingers all around, then she places her soft palm over my knuckles to show me how to grip the sides. The size difference is laughable…until she guides my pointer finger with hers, her fingertip brushing along the length of my long digit, then nothing’s funny at all.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My athletic shorts won’t hide shit if I get hard right now.
Antarctica. Avalanche. Snowballs.
My balls. Hitting Ever’s chin.
Jesus.
My grip on the shoe tightens so much I can feel Ever’s fist inside it.
“Good. Keep your index finger level with the heel.”
I nod stiffly.
Ever takes the shoe and tosses it aside before giving me her back, only a few inches in front of me.
I’m studying the back of her head, remembering how good it felt to have her neck in my grasp, when she turns that head over her shoulder, eyebrows raised.
Shit. Was she talking?
“Yeah,” I say, no clue what I’m agreeing to.
“Then put your hands on me.”
Uh…
Taking a wild guess, I clutch her sides. Instantly, her obliques constrict between my hands and her back arches away from me. Fuck, I could get used to that.
“You’re not ticklish, are you?”
“No!” she snaps before moving my hands lower so they’re just above her hips. “You’re too high.”
I drum all of my fingers, getting familiar with the grip.
Those mysterious marks aren’t visible at the moment, hidden by her briefs, but I remember them being about where I’m holding, maybe a little lower. I only saw them that once.
Ever’s hands circle my wrists.
“Okay, now lift but don’t let go of me.”
She gives a little bounce and together we get her in the air, my hands on her the whole time, my eyes tracking her ass to just over my head. It’s just a quick pop up before her feet are back on the floor.
“Again.”
We repeat that a few more times until she tells me to go higher while also tossing her up a little.
The first time, I can’t do it. I add extra height easy enough, but I don’t so much as loosen my grip on her.
“If you can’t even catch me from a few inches, how are you going to catch me from several feet?”
“I’ll catch you.”
“But you—”
“I’ll fucking catch you.”
I’m not worried about the catch. It’s the release that’s got me uneasy.
But this is what she wants and I told her I’d be the one to do it with her. If it’s either me or someone else…
It’s me.
She shakes her head but gets in position for another try. This time I do let go, her feet going up near my face before she comes right back down into my hands again.
“Perfect. Just like that, except this time, try to catch me the way I showed you.”
Already?
“What are you gonna be doing? Spinning and shit?” This escalated so fucking fast. As did my sweating.
Ever shoots me a look. “You’re not ready for elite stunts. I’ll stay straight. You just focus on getting your hands under my feet.”
Next thing I know this bitch is jumping and I’m releasing her, then she’s airborne, and—
I’m supposed to catch her by the bottoms of her fucking feet? How?
I miss. Obviously. I miss and have to rush to catch her under her armpits so she doesn’t smack the floor.
This shit is not easy. This shit is not fun. I don’t understand why anyone does it.
“Again,” she says.
Second attempt, I get some tit in the catch but it’s way too quick to enjoy.
Maybe that fucker on her team wasn’t getting off on grabbing her puss but I still don’t like that he grabbed her puss. I’m grabbing anything I can to save her from a sloppy throw. His stunt was much more controlled, not to mention rehearsed. He could’ve found somewhere better to grab her.
On the third, I do it. I catch her. Somehow, some-fucking-way I catch her. I have no idea if my hands are positioned correctly but Ever’s soles are in my palms and I’m her goddamn base.
“Fuuuckk.”
I blindly wander around, my feet shuffling to stay under me as I work my ass off to keep balance.
What makes it even harder is the fact that I’m now staring straight up at Ever’s ass. And pussy. It’s a direct line of sight right up there.
Every detail of Ever’s soaked panties in the car has been burned into my memory—fourth-degree-level burned on there—yet I’ve been revisiting each one like I was told I have early onset dementia and that day’s the only thing I’m terrified of forgetting. The way the fabric was darkened in that one spot, spreading bigger the more turned on she got. The smell of her arousal… Literally mouth-watering. Days later and my mouth is still hankering for a taste. One single fucking lick.
She’s not wet now though. At least not enough to show through her briefs. If she was…
“Keep your elbows locked,” she scolds, and I realize I was lowering her.
Probably—preferably—on to my face.
I press up, creating some distance.
“Don’t lift any higher. Just stay right here.”
“Why?” I grit out, inexperienced with this kind of strain on my wrists.
“Because we’re starting with the basics. This is a simple toss hands.”
Simple? My scoff comes out choked and makes my arms shake. Or maybe that’s me actually shaking.
Shit. I’m shaking.
“How do you get down?”
“Okay. Push up—”
My wrists give out before she can finish her instructions, causing her to drop suddenly. I wrap my arms around her as quick as I can though, locking them around her thighs.
I’m panting and sweating and goddamn, this is so much harder than I thought it’d be. But this part…isn’t so bad. Having Ever’s ass in my face is exactly what I was imagining. Exactly what I was craving. Only without the material.
“I told you you’d drop me,” she says with a wiggle of her hips that only makes me want to extend my jaw and take a giant bite.
I lied. I wouldn’t stop at one lick or just her pussy. I’d eat every fucking crumb of Ever Munreaux, leaving none behind.
“And I told you…” I ease my hold, letting her slip through my arms, the back of her body sliding down the front of mine until my lips are on the crown of her head. “I’d catch you.”
Blizzards. Icebergs. Sleet pelting my face to cool it the fuck down.
I practically shove her away, putting an arm’s length between us.
Stepping even farther away, Ever tucks her hair behind her ears, saying, “If you had any sort of stamina, you wouldn’t have had to.”
This girl’s always questioning my stamina.
I bring her ass right back, not against me but damn near close.
“Let’s go again.”
“That wasn’t a challenge, Major. It was a fact. Even if your wrists were strong enough, I need to get ready.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” About the gala or my wrists. “Let’s keep going until I nail it.”
“I have to—”
“All you gotta do is put on your dress. It’ll take you two seconds. Come on, let’s try again.”
Spinning her around, my hands are already on her waist but she makes sure to twist to give me the stink-eye.
“You have no idea what it takes to be a woman.”
“No, I don’t.” Thank fucking God. It sounds terrible. “Now shut up and let me throw your ass.”
Her chuckle makes me smile.
But I wasn’t kidding.
After a synchronized bend to our knees, I’m tossing her up again, catching her feet much easier this time. And because I know I’m staying like this, I focus on my grips, making sure all my fingers are where she taught me to put them.
“Good?” she asks after a few seconds.
“Yeah.”
She talks me through a dismount which goes smooth now that my body isn’t short-circuiting, then I immediately throw her into another one before she can even think about leaving.
On the fifth one, I tell her I’m ready to try something harder.
Hands on her hips, she eyes the clock on the wall.
“Come on. Teach me something else,” I say, hoping I don’t sound like I’m begging. When you’re not failing miserably, it’s kind of rewarding to pull off a stunt. And maybe even fun.
I think I’m having fun anyway. It’s been a while.
Clearly, the bar’s been lowered to subterranean levels.
“Okay, but if you don’t hit first try, I can’t keep working on it with you tonight. The glam team is probably already here, waiting for me in the salon.”
“An actual salon?”
“Have you even toured the manor?”
“No. I only go where you do.” I cock my head. “Minus the conservatory.”
“Why don’t you explore when I’m in there?”
“You didn’t seem to like it last time I did that.”
“That’s because you rummaged through my room,” she spits even though I did not rummage. I did some light reconnaissance. “I don’t care about the rest of the house.”
I only went in her room that one time out of desperation, otherwise I stick close to the conservatory. In case Ever pulls any of her bullshit.
Or in case…she needs me.
But since I’ll never admit that to her, I say, “It’s not gonna work.”
“What?”
“You trying to shake me so you can sneak someone in there.”
“In my atrium?” she questions like the possibility horrifies her.
“Oh, that’s right. You don’t share that either.” She threatened bodily harm when I got too close to it. I thought it was just me but…I should’ve known. Vicious little bat.
“I don’t share anything that belongs to me, Crue.”
It could be her using my actual name or it could be her gaze drilling into mine, but either way, the message is clear—I’m included in that statement. I belong to her.
“They’re just butterflies.”
She flinches as if I slapped her, those sea-glass eyes falling from mine faster than her body did on our first stunt. The urge to apologize overwhelms me. I don’t know why that hurt her, but obviously, it did.
It’s probably the same when someone says Zeus is just a dog. He’s a member of our family.
But I mean…butterflies… They are bugs. They can’t invoke the same emotional bond a dog can.
Giving me her back again, she says, “We’ll try a toss extension. It’s the same concept as before, except you have to toss me a bit higher because you’re going to extend your arms up to lift my feet above your head.”
That’s nothing compared to what I saw her and Nathen do earlier, but her feet have only come up as high as my shoulders so far, so it’s a jump for me.
For once in my life, I’m questioning my stamina, too.
After shaking out my wrists, I get her above my head, my arms locked, then she tells me, “Do you want to pull lib?”
A quiver runs through my elbows. “Which lip?”
Even with her life literally in my hands, she snickers.
“It’s lib with a b. I’ll raise my left foot out of your left hand, then you’ll immediately bring it over to help with my right foot.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I instantly envision her body falling like a hand on a broken clock, from twelve o’clock to six in a single drop.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening.
“Ready?”
No. “Sure.”
I release her left foot and she immediately brings it up in a knee-bend, her arms above her head in a wide V. Both my hands hold her right foot, my left one not feeling as secure as I’d like. I’ve got her, but it’s not great. If her leg wasn’t ramrod straight and her core probably hard as granite, I’m not sure I’d have her at all. Ever’s an amazing cheerleader. It’s too bad her temper got the better of her today. She would’ve had a perfect performance to end the season with. The fact she sabotaged that just so she could prove a point is…still hot. Maybe even hotter now that I know firsthand how incredible she is. She must’ve worked hard to compromise that basket.
“Back to two hands?” I ask.
“No, we’ll dismount from here.”
“My shit’s too shaky here.” My arms have literal fucking tremors.
“Then adjust until it’s not.”
“I don’t know how,” I grit, earning myself more laughter but no further guidance.
All right. Guess it’s all on me.
Ever holds her position steady, allowing me to remove my left hand completely. The second I do, my right elbow buckles and I’m using that free hand to grab Ever’s falling body. The human body is nothing like a clock’s hand either. It’s so much more unpredictable when a person drops.
I get my arm wrapped around her waist, but the momentum pulls me forward so abruptly, we both wind up falling. Just like in the woods, I twist our bodies as hard as I can so mine takes the brunt of the fall with Ever landing on top of me.
“Why’d you take your hand off?”
“Maybe…because…I don’t…the fuck…I’m…doing,” I pant out between heavy breaths, missing at least one word but not giving a single fuck. Ever’s still on me, both our faces to the ceiling, which isn’t helping my lungs, but I can’t seem to let go just yet. That was close. Too close.
I don’t want to do this shit ever again. I could go the rest of my life without trying another stunt. Easy. But I know the second Ever decides she wants to fly again, I’ll be back at it without resistance. I’m gonna have to start watching tutorials or something if I want to get better though. That and hairstyling. Fuck, my hands are gonna be busy the next three years. My hands, my fingers…
Suddenly aware of my fingers splayed out across Ever’s naked stomach, I curl them into her middle, holding her against me tighter. Her abs harden, making my cock do the same.
All at once, I roll her off me and sit up, hiding my semi between bent knees that I prop my elbows on for more coverage.
My voice gruff as all hell, I ask, “How long do you think it’ll be until you’re ready?”
Next to me, I catch Ever on all fours in my periphery. I refuse to turn my head in her direction. Not that I need to. Her in the compromising position has already been added to my overflowing vault of fantasies.
“I need to shower, then hair, makeup… Probably a few hours.”
Now I do look at her. “Even with people helping you? I could do your hair faster than that.”
She chuckles as she gets to her feet. “You don’t know how to do hair.”
“Yet.”
“Tonight’s not the time to experiment. My father will tolerate nothing less than absolute perfection when I walk in.”
But she let me earlier. She didn’t even seem to care that I did such a bad job and she was about to be on stage in front of hundreds of people. Was it really only because Arthur wasn’t going to be one of them?