Chapter 9
NINE
Vida
I take the stairs up to Tripp’s room so no one will see me.
My heart is jackhammering in my ears.
Not only am I putting my aunt’s position at the resort on the line by fraternizing with a guest—in the most egregious of ways…
I can’t believe I’m going to give him a blow job.
That I was so bold about implying I’d do it.
I don’t really know what came over me, except, well…he looked insanely hot in sweatpants, no shirt, and those giant headphones. Especially after he came to my rescue, comforted me afterward so sweetly, and gave me a drawing of the Milky Way.
Like, I want to get on my knees for him. Is that a bad thing to admit?
Oh my gosh.
I think I might be falling for this rich boy.
Which is a scary thing to admit because there is no way this works out long term.
Sure, he jokes that we’re going to be together longer than his stay at the resort, but maybe that’s a standard thing men say to women they want to sleep with.
How would I know when I’ve never even had a boyfriend?
Calm down.
I need to calm down.
I stop outside his door and take a deep breath. Before I’ve even let it out, the door opens, and I’m pulled inside before it’s slammed shut behind me. I’m wrapped in two strong arms and all but tackled against the door.
“Angel,” he groans into my neck. “I missed you so much.”
Instantly, I’m attuned to him, my scattered thoughts organizing themselves. I have nothing to be nervous about with Tripp. He’s wonderful. Earnest. Physical. Honest. We’ve…connected more than I could have imagined connecting with someone who grew up so differently from me.
“You just saw me this morning,” I laugh, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“It’s too long,” he half-shouts just above the crown of my head.
“Shhh,” I scold him with a playful swat. “Getting caught off the clock with a guest would be bad enough, but coming here on my lunchbreak? I’d be cleaning out my locker.”
“How many times do I have to tell you I’d never let that happen?” He nudges up my chin. “You don’t have to worry about anything when you’re with me.”
“I don’t know what it’s like not to worry.”
“I can show you,” he whispers, tracing his thumb along my bottom lip. “Did you decide if you’re coming tonight?”
“Still thinking about it. Don’t be greedy.”
Growling, he tosses me up into his arms. “Too late. I want all of you, Vida.” He fists my hair and tugs it back, swooping in to take a love bite out of my throat. “Every sexy little inch.”
When he turns to carry me in the direction of the bedroom, I start to wiggle around in his hold, and his eyes darken instantly. “I can’t imagine anyone in this world not wanting you,” he rasps.
“Yale didn’t want me,” I quip, absently. It’s an offhand comment, though the rejection from my dream school is always lingering in the back of my mind.
I’m surprised when Tripp stops short of the bedroom threshold.
“You applied to Yale?” His gaze races over my face. “You wanted to go to Yale?”
“Yes.” I wave a hand. “But I’m happy where I ended up.”
He narrows his gaze on me. “No. You’re not.”
The fact that he can read my mind has me swallowing hard. “I mean, everything happens for a reason, right? I’m supposed to go to Dartmouth.”
“Unless you’re supposed to go to Yale,” he says, sounding thoughtful. “With me.”
Uh-oh. “Tripp, I don’t like that tone of voice.”
A few seconds of silence pass. “Just let me take a look at your application?”
I’m already shaking my head. “I’m not going to let you pull strings for me. I’ll be fine.”
“I won’t be fine. I mapped the drive to Dartmouth. It’s two and a half hours away from me.”
He brings our heads together and continues walking us into the bedroom, laying me down on the most comfortable mattress imaginable.
In two swift yanks, he takes off my shoes and tosses them away, coming down on top of me in nothing but a fresh pair of sweatpants, his skin smelling clean from a shower.
Suddenly, there I am, lying beneath the resort’s most powerful and influential guest, in my maid uniform.
So enamored with him, I can barely breathe.
“Will you please just send me the application, angel?” He cajoles, easing my hands up above my head and pinning them there, his mouth perched on top of mine. “I will never ask you for anything again. As long as I live.”
“Hold on.” I’m giggling beneath his huge body, my knees tugging upward and sliding open so he can sink down between the juncture of my thighs—and he does so with a baritone groan. “I swear I’ve heard that somewhere before.”
“Not from me,” he deadpans.
“Oooh. Must have been my other boyfriend.”
His blue eyes darken. “That is not even remotely funny.”
“Calm down, rich boy. Trust me, there’s no other boyfriend. You were my first kiss.”
I didn’t mean for that to slip out, but as soon as it does, my face turns piping hot, and I try to turn my head to evade his searching gaze, but he doesn’t let me.
He’s still pinning my wrists above my head with one hand, but he catches my chin in his free one, his big chest puffing up and down twice.
“Ah, angel, why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I don’t know. It’s weird.”
“It’s only weird that thousands of boys didn’t try.”
“Now…” I purse my lips. “I didn’t say that.”
His lips kick up on one side, and he radiates a combination of chagrin and affection down at me. “You were just waiting for some wealthy asshole to come along and attack you on the job, huh?”
“No, but that wealthy asshole turned out to be you, Tripp,” I whisper, a little nervous that I’m revealing myself here. Revealing that he’s important to me, whether we’re together in the future or not. “So it was worth the wait.”
He’s not amused anymore.
In fact, he looks like he can’t get a swallow down.
“Give me the application, angel,” he says, firmly.
I chew my lip, indecisive. I don’t want favors from him.
I don’t want to take advantage of anything this man has to offer.
I only want him. But the request to look at my Yale application is innocent enough, right?
And it’s better than letting him shower me in sapphires or spend a thousand dollars on our dinner.
“Just for a look, okay?” I murmur.
He blinks away the triumph that flashes in his eyes, but not before I see it.
“Just a look.” He releases my chin and trails a big palm downward, between my breasts and over my tummy, hesitating only briefly before traveling further and tucking his hand beneath my skirt to squeeze my upper thigh and hip, easing his body to one side so he can stroke a single finger down the center of my mound.
“But I’m about to do a lot more than look at you here, Vida. ”
“I know,” I breathe.
He flips up my skirt and peruses me there hotly, a sound rumbling in his chest. “Just had her first kiss last night. My God.”
“My first orgasm, too,” I whisper, my belly hollowing with deepening breaths.
“Vida, no.” His brows slash together, his expression disbelieving. Turned on and rueful at the same time. “Jesus, I’ve done shit so backwards with you. Your first orgasm shouldn’t have been while you were hanging from my belt.”
I arch my back for him, and he watches, licking his lips.
“I loved hanging from your belt. But show me how you think it should have been.”
“Oh, I plan on it, angel.” He tucks a finger into the waistband of my white panties and ferries them down my legs all the way to my ankles, where I toe them onto the floor.
His expression is nothing short of marveling, his fingertips teasing my private lips gently, his breath ghosting over my wetness when he leans forward to study me.
“Could hardly believe what I was tasting when I licked it last night. Didn’t even come close to getting my fill.
” He slips his thumb into the top of my slit and gently rubs that nub, so recently discovered, and my legs jerk on a whimper.
“You can wear your lily-white panties and ride your bike around town like the girl next door, but something so wet and horny needs filth, too, Vida. You’re going to get that from me.
Only. Ever. Me. I’m going to be Daddy to this little sugar pussy. We on the same page yet?”
Following his words, there’s an embarrassing rush of heat at my center. Which part do I address first? If my body clearly enjoys how he’s speaking to me, does that make it okay?
“D-Daddy?” I ask on a shallow breath while Tripp kisses his way down my stomach. “Why would you say th—oh!”
His tongue is dragging up the part of my sex, his intense blue eyes fastened on my face—and I know in that instant what Tripp means by filth.
Oh, my goodness, he is filth incarnate, his broad shoulders and back tense with flexed muscles, his body settling in between my parted legs, as if to enjoy a meal.
All day long, I’ve been worried about this moment, so sure it would be cringe-inducing or uncomfortable, but he’s not giving me any room to feel anything but warmth and tension and that unexplainable sensation that comes when he reaches my clit and spreads his tongue all over it like jelly.
“Oh my God,” I hiccup, twisting my fingers in the sheets above my head.
“Fuck, angel,” he growls. “You just drip for this tongue, don’t you?”
I nod vigorously because yeah, I can feel that what he’s saying is oh so accurate. I didn’t know I could get this aroused. Maybe I wasn’t capable of it until I met Tripp.
“Keep…doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“All of it.”
His laughter is dark as he lifts his head, but all at once, he seems to grow overwhelmed by lust, reaching up to unbutton my vest with a rough hand, pushing it open.
My T-shirt is peeled up to my throat next, exposing my breasts to the cool room.
It’s completely decadent to be lying in this luxurious bed with a god between my legs, and I let myself soar, arching my back and moaning as loudly as I want.