15. Hailey
15
HAILEY
It took me the entire weekend to recover from the party. I’d never been around that many people at once. There were more people in the row, Kappa Alpha, then in my high school back home. It was unbelievably loud, wild, and crazy.
Plus, kind of fun.
Grand had warned me that I would receive an education at the party, and I did. I didn’t know my fellow students could act like that. Lose so much they didn’t care what they did or what people thought. There was a lesson to be learned there somewhere. Of course, one of those lessons was not to drink to the point where you couldn’t stand up.
I’d enjoyed spending time with Ian, too. I hadn’t done that much before the party, but I liked his style when he was behind the bar. He had a friendly word for everyone, but he knew when to step in, like when a random guy was bothering me or some other woman.
I grinned. The women of the party had been impressed with him, too. He wore a black button-down shirt that was open at the neck and tight jeans. I saw more than one leaning over the bar to check him out, which usually made their breasts spill out of their dresses, but they didn’t seem to care.
That was another thing I was surprised about. People were making out in corners of the room, and sometimes not even the corners. Either they were natural exhibitionists, or alcohol really did lower your inhibitions. Probably both.
So yeah, it was quite the experience, but I hoped there wouldn’t be another party anytime soon. Although it was really nice to see someone else clean the house besides me. The cleaners they’d hired had somehow whipped the place into shape in a matter of hours. They did so much that I was able to cut back on my cleaning a bit, although I was careful not to let Bennett know that. But it gave me some time to decompress.
Although the party was interesting, it was also loud, and the music gave me a headache. I was very grateful once Ian walked me to my room, and I was able to shut the door behind me.
I felt almost human again by Monday, and I was able to easily follow along in class. And when I went to walk Sunny afterwards, I kept an extremely tight grip on her leash. Of course, the entire time I was inside the condo, I was thinking about Theo and how good it felt when he kissed me.
Surprisingly, I hadn’t spent too much time overanalyzing it He was my friend, and yes, it had felt amazing when he held me, but I wasn’t going to overthink it. There was no crystal ball I could consult—I’d just wait and see what happened in the future.
If anything did. Maybe he hadn’t thought about it since it had happened.
When I got back on Monday afternoon, it was instantly clear that someone had been in my room. Again. But this time, there was a welcome surprise.
The first thing I noticed was that my bed didn’t look the way I’d left it. For a second I panicked, thinking Bennett and Grant had done something else crappy, like when they’d stolen my robe.
But this was something good. I blinked, trying to make sure that what I was seeing was actually there. As if in a trance, I walked slowly to the bed.
My book bag slid off my shoulder and hit the floor with a thud. Someone—I had no idea who—had left a whole pile of brand-new bedding. Not just any bedding, either. The light blue sheets were silky and smooth, made out of a soft fabric that practically screamed luxury . There was a weighted blanket, too—one of those expensive ones I’d seen people rave about online. I couldn't wait to climb under it and see how it felt.
And the comforter? It was fluffy and perfect, the kind of thing you’d see in a catalog or a five-star hotel. because I couldn't resist, I grasped the edges and shook the folds out, spreading it across the huge bed. Yep, it was definitely made for a king size mattress.
I didn’t realize I was tearing up until a drop slipped down my cheek. It was just bedding, not a marriage proposal, but it meant a lot to me. Someone had noticed I had a problem and had fixed it. I wished I could thank whoever it was. Maybe it was Theo?
Or maybe it was my night owl friend. Of course, I didn't know who he was either. But maybe he and the person who did this were one and the same? They could both be Theo, but I just wasn't sure. And after spending time with Ian at the party, and getting to know him a little better, I'd realized that he was a pretty good guy, too.
And then another thought hit me as I sat on the edge of the bed and touched the soft fabrics. Maybe the cookbook that had appeared in the kitchen after my disastrous dinner hadn't been an insult. Maybe someone had been trying to help me then, too.
The thought of the new bedding I would sleep in tonight had me smiling for the rest of the day. Since the first floor was still super clean, I concentrated on the second floor. I cleaned both bathrooms first, since a few people were around and they were empty. Then I decided to dust in the study room.
I hadn’t been there since the first time I cleaned here. I’d forgotten what a cozy room it was, with ample tables and chairs to work at. It made me wish I could study here, rather than the small desk in my room, but of course no one knew I was a student. Except Theo.
I kept thinking about that part of our exchange in the condo almost as much as the kiss. He seemed to admire me for what I was doing this summer, instead of looking down on me as I knew my classmates would. But he was an exceptionally kind man. I didn’t think most of my fellow students would be so understanding.
As I was dusting a bookcase taller than my head, the man I had been thinking about showed up.
I set down my dust rag and brushed off the front of my shirt. Though my clothes were old and stained, his looked great. He looked great. The tight, white T-shirt he wore barely fit over his toned chest and ripped biceps. He had on faded blue jeans with a tear at the knee, but it was a good look for him.
“Hi.” This was the first time I’d been alone with him since the condo.
“Hey.” His beard was neatly trimmed, and his light gray eyes, as usual, seemed like they were looking right through me. The outline of the tattoos on his pecs was faintly visible under his white shirt. “We need to talk.”
That didn’t sound good. Did he misinterpret our encounter the other day? Or did he perhaps think that I did?
Worry made me start babbling. “It's OK; I understand. We’re just friends. I don’t expect anything of you after what happened…” I trailed off, unsure what else to say.
He landed against the back of the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not about that.” Then his smile faded. “Wait, do we need to talk about that?”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I’d certainly been thinking about it a lot. Finally, I shook my head.
He studied me. “We can if you want.”
I shook my head. “What did you want to talk about?”
He came over and took my hand, leading me to a little table by the window. We both sat down, and I waited to hear what he was going to say.
Hopefully it wasn’t anything bad. That was nearly always my first thought these days.
“Thank you for telling me about your situation.” He glanced towards the door, to make sure no one was around, and continued. “I won’t tell anyone about it, but you might consider it. There are some good guys around here.”
His voice was so serious that I felt an undeniable urge to make a joke to cut the tension. “There are a few bad ones, as well.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. It’s your call to make, but…” He trailed off and shook his head as if to clear it. ”But that’s not why I’m here. I don’t know everything about your situation, but I heard about something, an opportunity that I wanted to share.”
Then he told me the most amazing news. He told me about a stipend offered by the university. They were going to pay for the housing for one lucky student for the next year. I had no idea there was a chance at a stipend like that. Langley wasn’t really known for reducing prices for students. Most of them didn’t need it.
“I don’t know all the details, but I can send you the website, “Theo continued. “Or you can just find it on the homepage of the registrar’s office.”
“Thank you,” I said as sincerely as I could.
He held my gaze. “Just to be clear, it looks like a very competitive thing. And I’ve heard the application process is very long and involved. It’s due by the end of this week.”
His words registered, but I knew I would do everything I could to make my application as strong as possible. Even if it meant more sleepless nights, and temporarily neglecting my work from my classes. This was an amazing opportunity that could solve my biggest problem. I’d researched what it would cost to move into an apartment with several other students, like Tori had, and the prices started at $5000 per semester and went up from there.
Even with all my jobs this summer, I was nowhere near that amount. I had to go all out on this opportunity. If I could get housing for the whole year, and save the money I was earning this summer, I wouldn’t have to watch every penny during my sophomore year.
Theo reached over and took my hand, squeezing it lightly. “I hope you get it, but it’s probably best not to get your hopes up.” I nodded rapidly.
He stared into my eyes and then broke out in a smile. “You want to go back to your room right now and start working on the application, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I admitted, returning his smile.
He scanned the room and then gave me a thumbs up. “This looks pretty clean to me, so I’d say you should do just that.”
And that’s what I did.
Theo was right; the application process was long and involved, but I was eager to get started. But first, I had a phone call to make.
“How come we didn’t know about this before?” Tori asked after I called and told her the news.
“Maybe because we’re working our asses off and don’t have time to browse the school website.” Plus, the information was pretty well hidden. I had no idea how Theo had heard about it. He definitely didn’t need the housing stipend.
“I can’t believe all the stuff they want you to fill out and submit. I bet a government security clearance check would require less info.”
I laughed. “Yeah, it’s a lot, but I’m going to give it everything I’ve got. And I want you to, also.” If I didn’t get it, I hoped that Tori did.
“Uh-oh.” Her voice sounded strange. “Crap.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m reading the fine print, and I think my mom makes just over the income line. Like just a thousand bucks or so.” She sounded crestfallen.
“I’m sorry. That’s so unfair. I know how much you could use the money.”
“Yeah,” she said. “In addition to letting me save my money for other necessities, like food, it might’ve also allowed me to get the hell out of here.”
“Are things still bad?”
“Really, really bad. Now two of them have boyfriends, and they’re always over here. Being loud in the living room when I’m trying to study. Eating the food I bought for myself. They spend the night and take all the hot water in the shower. And one of them walks around the house practically naked, with just a towel wrapped around his waist. How could anyone do that in a place that wasn’t his own?”
As bad as I felt about Tori’s situation, I couldn’t help grinning about that. I hadn’t minded at all when I saw Ian wrapped in a towel after he exited the bathroom last week.
“I was thinking about maybe trying something different for next semester,” Tori said “I mean, my first choice would be rooming with you if we could both afford it, but I don’t think we can. It’s just the two of us. Remember that guy in my class, Todd?”
“Is he still hitting on you?”
“Well, yeah. But he’s not such a bad guy. We had coffee the other day, and he let me vent about my roommate situation. Then he told me that he’s renting a house. It’s two bedrooms and it’s just him there. He kept talking about how much space he had and how it was too big for one person.”
Uh-oh. “Tori, you can’t be considering that. The guy keeps bothering you.”
“I know,” she said, “but I hate staying here. I keep staying late at the library to try to avoid the crowd that congregates in this place every night.“ She paused. “You moved into a house full of frat boys, so I don’t think you’re one to talk.”
She laughed while she said it, but she had a point.
After our phone call, I got back to work working on the materials for the lengthy housing application. There really wasn’t a lot of time.
I worked late into the night, and by one o’clock, I was exhausted. When my phone chimed, I grinned. As if it was a cue I had been waiting for, I turned off my desk lamp and stood up, stretching. Then I put on my nightgown and sleep shorts and climbed eagerly into bed. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was more excited about the bedding or about talking to Night Owl.
But the moment I sank onto the mattress, I was distracted by how damn good the sheets and blankets felt. The weighted blanket felt like someone hugging me at all times. It was so warm that I barely needed the comforter.
Finally, I let myself read the message.
How’s combat, Wombat?
I grinned. Sometimes it did feel like every day there was a new battle to fight. A new crisis to face. Same as always. Work. Clean. Rinse. Repeat.
It was tempting, incredibly tempting to tell him what I had been up to. And that I was a student who had a class to study for. But I didn’t know who he was, and not everybody would react like Theo had.
That made me grin, because part of Theo’s reaction had been to kiss me. I’d liked that part.
You work too hard.
Agreed. But I have to.
I get that. But did he really? If Night Owl lived here, then he was wealthy. There weren’t exactly any poor members of the frat.
You need some time to yourself.
I’ve got some right now , I pointed out. And I’m spending it with you.
Good choice. Are you in bed?
Yes, I have brand-new bedding and it’s so soft.
New bedding? Such a reckless spender.
A thought occurred. It just appeared in my room. You don’t happen to know anything about that, do you?
As always, he sidestepped whenever I tried to get personal—and possibly identifying—information out of him. I can neither confirm nor deny that.
Well, whoever it was, I’m grateful. The sheets are so silky and soft.
Do they feel soft against your pajamas or against your bare skin?
I’m wearing a nightgown. Sorry to disappoint.
Maybe you’re disappointing yourself.
I frowned. What do you mean?
Well, you’ve got clean, brand-new sheets. Why not enjoy them fully? I bet your nightgown doesn’t feel as good against your skin as those sheets would.
Perhaps. But I never sleep naked. Do you?
Perhaps.
That thought made me wonder who he was, and where he was. Was he lying in bed down the hallway? I decided to tease him with the old joke that the members of the frat were all ugly, which of course was about as far from the truth as you could get. Please, I don’t want to think about a gargoyle like you naked in bed.
Yes, you do.
Dammit, he was right.
You should try it.
Was he serious? My skin heated, even though he had steered the conversation in a slightly more adult direction a couple of times in the past.
He must’ve sensed my hesitation, because he started typing again. You should try it. You might like it.
Maybe I will sometime.
Or you could now.
I bit my lip as my pulse rate increased.
He continued on. Who’s going to know? It’s not like I’d know the difference between chatting with a clothed woman and a naked one. But I sure like the idea of that second one better.
Really?
Really. You might like it too.
OK.
He sent back an emoji with raised eyebrows, and I could almost feel his surprise. Let me know when you’re nude… like me.
It should have freaked me out, that he was texting me while naked, but somehow it didn’t. I felt safe under this amazing blanket, safe from harm, and safe to explore things I usually didn’t get to.
It didn’t want to leave this warm, safe cocoon to stand up, so I rolled onto my back, bending my knees. I lifted my hips up to slide off the stretchy shorts I slept in. Night Owl was right; the bedding did feel even better on my bare legs.
It was a little harder to wiggle out of my nightgown, but it really did feel amazing to snuggle up under this warm, heavy blanket with nothing between it and my skin.
Amazing… and a little dangerous.
OK, I’m done. I felt a little shy.
How does it feel?
Really good , I admitted.
Want to feel even better?
I gasped as his meaning hit me. Yes, I was a virgin, but I wasn’t stupid. Just… inexperienced.
I don’t know. I don’t usually do that.
There’s a first time for everything , he texted, correctly guessing that when I said I didn’t usually do that, I meant I hadn’t ever done that.
I don’t really know how.
It’s easy, just like riding a bicycle. Wait, it’s nothing like riding a bicycle.
That made me laugh. Ha-ha.
But seriously, what have you got to lose? It’s your room. Your brand-new bedding. And your body. You should do what you want with it.
It took me too long to formulate my response. I don’t know what I want.
Then may I make a suggestion?
My breathing sped up and I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me.
OK.
My response was just two letters, but it felt like I’d taken a major step toward… something.
Good girl. Put your hand on your body. Anywhere on your body.
That didn’t sound too scary. I laid my palm on my belly. OK. I’m touching my stomach.
How does it feel?
Smooth. Warm. Soft. Except for the piercing. I traced the outline of the curved metal half ring I’d gotten when I worked at a tattoo shop for a few months during high school.
What???? You have a navel piercing?
Yep. His reaction pleased me.
How did I not know that?
I giggled. Maybe because a woman with a navel piercing and a woman without one text exactly the same way?
True, but I definitely prefer the former. There was a pause. Shit, now that’s all I can think about.
I squirmed on the bed, shifting my hips. I didn’t know why, but I really liked the idea that I turned him on. If you like it so much, I can tell you where I got it.
It wouldn’t look as good on me. I’m ugly, remember?
I remembered how often I teased him about it, but I certainly didn’t believe it was true.
Do you still have your hand on your belly? I bet your skin is warm.
It is.
Can you slide your hand up for me?
Nerves took over and I made a joke. Like up in the air?
You know what I mean. Be a good girl.
That was one of the most condescending things a guy could say. So why did it make me shiver? I slid my fingers slightly up my stomach. My touch felt different than it did when I was washing in the shower. Maybe it was because he was directing my movements. Or because I was imagining it was him touching me. I did that , I told him.
Cup your breasts. Use both hands. Squeeze them for me.
That wasn’t something I ever did, but I had to admit it felt good. And I also had to admit that maybe I wasn’t doing it just for him. I was twenty. It was probably damn well time to learn more about my own body.
OK.
Shit, I wish it were my hands on you. Tease your nipples for me. Get them hard.
They’re already hard , I admitted.
Then pinch them. Lightly.
I obeyed, a small moan rising from my chest.
Now a little harder.
I did that, too. It feels good.
I bet it does.
A new thought occurred—one that made my hips roll in a little circle against the silky sheet below me. Are you touching yourself?
Yes.
He admitted it so easily. Why was it so hard, even in such a safe, anonymous setting such as this, to talk about this kind of stuff? I was both afraid he’d take this farther… and worried that he might not.
Squeeze your breasts together. Are you imagining me doing that?
Yes. The area between my legs was growing hotter by the moment and blood was rushing to it.
Good. God, I wish I could watch you. But I’ve got a pretty good imagination.
That made me blush, but didn’t scare me off.
Slide your hand down your body. Slowly. How does that feel?
Good. And kind of dangerous.
That’s because I suspect you haven’t yet learned how a man can worship your body and make you scream. But maybe this can give you a hint. If you’re willing.
I am.
Good. Cup your mound. Is your skin hot?
Scorching.
God, I wish I could feel that.
Is your skin hot? I texted, my cheeks flooding with heat.
My cock, you mean. I could tell he was testing out the word, seeing how I would react.
Yes. It was a short answer, but it felt like a big step for me.
It’s scorching. I’m squeezing it with my fist and imagining that it’s your hand on me.
I didn’t know what to say to that, though my breathing was growing faster by the second.
He continued on. Spread your legs.
Damn, how could such a short command make my blood pound between my legs? A feeling of tension that was almost uncomfortable rocketed through me, but I did as he said.
Trace the line of your slit with your index finger. I don’t know how, but he seemed to know that I was doing as he asked.
And enjoying it.
Has anyone ever touched you there?
I thought about refusing to answer the question, as he sometimes did, but who was I kidding? He knew I was a virgin. No.
Good. Dip your finger in between your lips.
OK. It’s so slippery.
I wish I could taste it.
You do?
Very much so. Spread the moisture around, up and down your folds.
My breathing grew more ragged as I did. My nipples were still hard, and pressing against the weight of the heavy blanket.
Does it feel good?
Really good.
I wish I could see the look of pleasure on your face. Have you ever rubbed your clit before?
No. But once, when I stayed over at a friend’s house, there was a handheld showerhead in their bathroom, and I discovered how good it had felt to direct the water to that specific spot.
Do it for me. Do it now.
I wiggled my finger around until I found the swollen little nub, and I moaned, dropping the phone. The screen went dark, and I had to use two hands to pull up his messages again. It’s hard to do that and type.
Tell me about it. I think that whole typing with one hand thing is a little easier for guys.
I didn’t entirely know what he was talking about, but I didn’t care. It felt really good before I had to take my hand away.
Then don’t.
What do you mean? I was a little hurt that he didn’t want to continue this through to completion.
Don’t waste those hot little hands on something as ordinary as the phone screen. Use them to make yourself scream instead. Time to go hands-free, babe.
I don’t understand.
Call me, he texted, and my breath caught in my throat. I’ll type to you, and you can answer me out loud.
My heart rate doubled. I don’t think I can.
You’re wrong. I know you can. Just do it, Hailey. Give your body what it wants. Don’t think, just do it.
My mind wasn’t entirely on board, but my hand obeyed his orders. I hit the call button next to his name, something I never thought I would do.
Good girl.
Suddenly my mouth was dry. “Can—can you hear me?”
The answer came by text. Yes. There was no sound from his end of the call. He must’ve muted it.
Stroke yourself from your tight little hole all the way up to your clit. I want to hear you.
I did what he asked, but that didn’t really sound like something he’d be able to hear.
Again.
I kept stroking my slippery, heated skin, and then I moaned. He had to have heard that.
God, that sounded so damn hot. Circle the tip of your finger around your clit.
I propped the phone screen up against a pillow and used one hand to spread myself open, and the other to do as he asked.
So sexy the way you’re breathing so hard. Keep going.
Everything inside me was coiling and tightening. I hadn’t realized there would be this much buildup of pressure. I needed a release, and I knew it was coming. I just didn’t know how it would feel.
Don’t stop.
Involuntarily I started whimpering every time I exhaled. Everything inside me was tensing up.
Rub your finger directly over your clit. Do it now.
I cried out as the intensity ramped up. My legs started trembling.
Put your other hand on your tit. Squeeze your nipple. Hard.
“Oh God,” I moaned.
Don’t stop!
I barely saw his words before I had to close my eyes. The pressure was about to overwhelm me. I couldn’t help making little cries as it rolled closer. I didn’t even know what it truly was, but I sure as hell wanted to experience it.
I rubbed my clit harder and imagined my finger was his. That it was his large hand squeezing my breast. Then my hips bolted off the bed, and I cried out. My back arched, and my mouth stayed open in a silent scream as waves of pleasure washed over me.
Oh god, oh god, this was too much. And not enough, somehow. The sensations seemed to last forever until I nearly blacked out from lack of oxygen. Then I drew in a long, labored breath and cried out again. My chest rose and fell painfully hard, making my breasts shake. My finger on my clit was too intense now, so I slid my other hand up to my other breast. And squeezed them as the final notes of pleasure rocked through me.
I gasped for air, making whimpering noises as the tension lessened.
“God,” I moaned, trying to regain the ability to think. And breath.
“Is it always like that?” I managed to get out, forgetting he couldn’t answer. “God,” I said again. “Where’s my phone?”
I turned onto my side, squeezing my thighs together, and squealing as an aftershock hit. I’d had no idea it could feel that good. And if it felt this amazing just with me touching myself, what would it have felt like if he’d touched me like that?
My phone had gotten wedged under my pillow, and I fished it out. There were a bunch of unread messages from him, but I focused on the last one.
That was hot as fuck.
I smiled and ended the phone call. I’m back , I texted.
That was utterly fucking incredible to hear. Was that your first orgasm?
Yes, but I think you knew that already.
I did, and I’m so glad I got to hear it.
I hesitated. Did you have one too?
I came so damn hard. It was so hot hearing you moan. Hearing you come.
I wished I had been able to hear him, but I knew why he hadn’t let me. Strange as it was, our dynamic worked. If I knew which guy he was, it wouldn’t be quite the same. And I certainly couldn’t look at him tomorrow in the same way. Not after this.
But as we chatted for a few more minutes and then said good night, I also really wished I knew who he was.