Chapter Thirty-Six
Thirty-six
Kian
My girlfriend is beautiful in every light, but she’s the most beautiful when she’s coming out of my bathroom, her entire body illuminated by the light.
Okay, technically, she isn’t my girlfriend—we haven’t had that conversation yet—but I’m calling her that in my head. Sue me.
It’s been a few days since our date, but I’m heading out for a game tomorrow, so I’m desperate to get my fill of Scarlett before I leave.
She’s been busy at the shelter and with school, so the only time we’ve really gotten together is when it’s time to study.
And as I’ve learned, my girlfriend is very serious about keeping our tutoring schedule.
Now Scarlett is fresh out of the shower, her skin warm and pink, her hair damp and carrying the smell of citrus. I insisted that she shower here and not have to go through the hassle of the communal bathroom at Iona.
Her black tank clings to her, and her shorts trace her body in a way her usual clothes hide.
But what intrigues me the most is her unguarded softness.
Scarlett moves across my room in my fuzzy slippers, putting her glasses on, and falling so easily into the version of herself that burrows into my chest. It’s her in-between moments when I start to memorize her, music playing in my head like she’s a scene from my favorite film.
Sometimes I think she lets me watch her, no sudden movements to disturb the painting I’m constructing. She stands in front of my bathroom mirror, raking a wide comb through her hair. I know her routine by heart; it’s become my favorite part of the day.
I follow her, and my hand finds the bare skin of her waist where her tank top has ridden up.
“Let me do this for you,” I whisper, brushing her damp hair from her face. I pause to correct myself. “May I do this for you?”
In the mirror’s reflection, I smile at her confused look before she hands me the comb. I pass it across her scalp and she closes her eyes. I can see the goose bumps rise on her arms.
“So soft,” I whisper. All the rigidity in her frame crumbles and she breathes a heavy sigh, letting her shoulders drop and nearly hunch over.
As if she can’t take the slow movement, Scarlett turns her head, her lips just inches away, waiting for me to take them. So I do.
With her lips on me, she turns her body, ass pressed against the countertop and hips pressed into me. My fingers drift to her shorts, making her squirm.
“You okay, baby?”
“Mm-hmm.” She gives me a forced smile, those brown eyes alert.
“You sure? We can stop.” I pull away, but she doesn’t let me get far. She lifts herself onto the counter and tightens her legs around my abdomen. “Greedy,” I murmur.
“For you.”
Fuck. I pull her shorts down her thighs, letting them drop to the floor before I’m kissing her again, touching her, pressing her against me. My fingers dip into the elastic of her panties, and when I look down I see the green underwear printed with tiny cartoons.
“Ninja Turtles?” I smirk. “Cute.”
Scarlett covers her face with her hands. “I was trying to be smart about this,” she starts. “You were supposed to study today.”
“So these.” I crouch down, taking her underwear between my teeth. “Were supposed to deter me from seeing this?”
“Well, they were supposed to deter me from ending up on my back. I don’t want to distract you.”
“Scar, you could be nowhere near my vicinity and I’d still be distracted just by the thought of you.” I pull her underwear down her legs. “Having you on your back is just a bonus.”
“Too bad it won’t help you on your exam.”
I think for a minute, then kiss her even lower. “Then test me.”
“W-what?”
I smirk, feeling her pulse vibrating underneath her skin. “Test me. Anything. Because I think it’s you who can’t focus when I’m around.”
She makes a sound somewhere between a scoff and gasp. “That’s not true!”
“Yeah?”
She narrows her eyes. “Fine.”
I dust my mouth over her clit. “Clock’s ticking, baby.”
“You’re really confident for someone who barely passed last semester.”
“I got myself a really good tutor.” I press harder on her clit and she whimpers. “Ask a question.”
“W-what happens if you get it wrong?”
“Up to you.”
A wicked smile blooms on her face. “Okay. If you get it wrong, I won’t touch you.”
I chuckle into her skin, feeling her warmth spark up my spine. As long as I get to touch her, I have no problem. “Deal.”
She furrows her brows. “Wait, no. Why did you agree so quickly?”
“Scarlett, I can get off on just the thought of you.” Those words stay pinned in the air. “Getting you off is how I want to spend time.”
The soft column of her throat moves. “F-fine. Then you get it wrong, you can’t make me come.”
My head lifts instantly, and my jaw ticks. But I nod, focused as ever, ready to ace her little test even as I make small circles with my tongue.
She’s taking her time, thinking of each question. “Cohen’s d equals 0.8. What does it mean?”
“Large effect. Strong practical impact,” I answer immediately.
She seems surprised by my quick response. I smile, already knowing I’m right. But that only eggs her on, making her think harder for the next one. “In a repeated-measures design, sphericity is violated. What’s the consequence, and what correction would you apply?”
It’s almost like she’s not trying. “Violating sphericity inflates Type I error. Use Greenhouse-Geisser or Huynh-Feldt corrections.”
She pulls back, lifting my chin so I can look up at her. “Are you cheating?”
“I happen to have some very, very good motivation.”
Then she’s got no more questions for me, and the only sounds out of her mouth are a series of yeses.