Chapter Twenty-Four
The diner isempty when we pull up. Not a fancy place by any means—the red neon R on the sign flickers on and off every few seconds, and the windows could use a good washing—but it’s a reliable spot for a late-night burger, a pick-me-up after a few hours of trudging around town corrupting my father’s fucked-up plans.
“Is this place okay?”
“Yeah, looks great. I’m starving.” Lia doesn’t hurry to pull away from me the same way she did before. Instead, she lets her hands linger on my chest, two warm spots of heat that leave me aching for more.
And she’s not the only one. My breath comes in short, hard huffs. There’s no one around, no eyes upon us. I could bend her backwards over the motorcycle and?—
Damn it. Gotta hold out a little longer. As much as I want to fuck her, right here—right now… I can’t. Not yet.
Soon, though. Soon, I’ll have her body writhing beneath mine as I make her scream my name over and over again.
Clearing my throat, I glance from her to the diner and nod. “Then let’s get some food in you.”
The inside of the diner is a different world, a brightly lit oasis of chrome accents and red and white tile. I slide into one plasticky booth, and Lia takes a seat across from me, hands folded neatly in her lap. Behind the counter, a single waitress is mostly hidden behind a newspaper. The headline doesn’t evade me: LOCAL CASINO MAGNATE DEAD OF APPARENT SUICIDE.
Didn’t take them long to find Luke McConnors, I guess. Suicide, though, that’s something—Freddie left one hell of a mangled mess in that bathtub. My contacts must’ve been working overtime to convince the authorities that the wounds were self-inflicted.
The memory of those wounds sours my appetite. Hard to focus on hunger with Freddie in my mind’s eye, wiggling that bloody little fingernail.
Lia’s attention, thankfully, is on the laminated menu in front of her. The offerings are basic enough—burgers, chicken wings, home fries—alongside a few more adventurous ‘specialties.’
“Steer clear of the fettuccine alfredo,” I warn her. “It’s leagues out of their ability. Looks like baby vomit and tastes worse.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Yuck. Who messes up fettuccine alfredo?”
“You’d be surprised.”
She runs the edge of her fingernail along the menu’s border. Contemplating her options, I imagine—but when she speaks up, she makes no mention of food. “You really know your way around the city, don’t you?”
“Yeah, well. Not much to do on campus, so I’ve taken to exploring my options.”
“More so than anyone else I’ve met.” She tilts her head, hazel eyes narrowing ever so slightly in my direction. “From the way people talk, they mostly stay on the island. But you’re different.”
What would she do if I told her the truth? Stay far away from me, if she knows what’s good for her—but I’m starting to think that she doesn’t. Her innocence isn’t the only thing that draws me to her. There’s something else, something I could see clearly for the first time on the dance floor. Dark fire. Unbridled energy. We don’t have a damn thing in common—except for, just maybe, our very cores.
“I am different,” I say with a shrug. Need to pick my words carefully here. “Head of the GODs. I’ve got a lot riding on my shoulders.”
The waitress chooses this moment to come over with a notepad and a sleepy expression.
“Get anything for you two?”
“Strawberry milkshake, please,” Lia says.
“I’ll take a black coffee.”
The moment that the waitress leaves, silence fills the space between us. Her eyes roam around the diner, taking it all in before meeting my gaze once more. “What made you decide to come to Crimson Elite? It’s not just a school anyone decides on.”
She smiles for a moment, eyes falling to the table before she shakes her head slightly. “Well, I guess my mom. She’s the reason I came here.”
“Really?” I sure as hell wouldn’t have pinned her as the daughter of an alumna.
“Yeah. Her time at school was something really special, and she wanted the same for me.”
I can’t help feeling a bit intrigued. “Really special?”
She gives a small, sad smile. “I mean… nothing out of the ordinary. She just wanted me to go to college. So, well… here I am. Doing my best.”
When I first saw her at the GODs house, dancing with her friend, I never would have guessed that she carried so much sorrow regardless of how she tries to hide it—and yet it makes sense, in a cruel sort of way. No wonder I saw my own pain reflected in her eyes; no wonder she could pierce through my carefully constructed walls with no effort at all.
She keeps her eyes down, maybe suppressing tears, and only murmurs a quiet word of thanks when the waitress comes by with our drinks. From the look she gives to the pink-sugar confection in the glass in front of her, she’s lost her appetite as well.
My coffee tastes like shit, but I don’t mind. If there’s ever a time and place for bad coffee, it’s under the fluorescent glare of a late-night diner’s lights.
“I never knew my mother either,” I say quietly. “Grew up with a nanny because my father couldn’t be asked to deal with a kid on his own.”
“I know how that goes,” she sighs. “Harper—Harper Quinn, my friend—she and her mom are pretty much friends. I can’t even fathom how that would work.”
“Probably doesn’t. At least not how she says it does. People pretend to have happy families because they want to be normal. The ironic part is that everyone’s pretending. Putting on false airs to blend in with all the other frauds.”
Her eyebrows dip, and her lower lip puffs up in a little pout that I can’t help but find adorable. “Really? That’s a cynical way to live.”
“I’m a cynical person, I guess. Life’s never given me any reason to change that.”
“Well, that’s the problem. You can’t just sit around waiting for your life to get better. That change—it has to come from you.”
Her tone is firm, almost urgent, like it’s the most important thing in the world that I understand her. I do, I guess, even if I don’t necessarily agree.
“Trust me,” I mutter. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” she demands. “What’s stopping you?”
I take another swallow of sludgy coffee. “You don’t want to know that.”
“You don’t get to decide what I want.” She leans forward, almost halfway over the table, her eyes wide and intent despite the late hour. There’s that fire again, that incandescent energy that first showed itself on the dance floor. I can feel her warm breath on my own lips.
“Fine, then. I don’t want you to know that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’d think less of me.” The words come with startling ease. I didn’t even realize that was the reason, but now that I’ve said it aloud, it’s obvious. “I’m not a good person, Lia. You should know that, if we’re going to keep doing this.”
“And what is this, exactly?”
I shrug, fighting to keep my expression indifferent. Speaking from the heart like this lends me a strange sort of vulnerability—and, weirdly enough, I don’t think I hate it. It feels bizarre, that’s for fucking sure, but not exactly bad… though I don’t dare to let that on. Vulnerability is weakness, after all.
“Seeing each other, I guess,” I say at last. “Going into the city.”
“Seeing each other,” she repeats. “Is that what you call it?”
“I don’t date, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t.” I give a short nod towards her milkshake. “Are you going to drink that?”
The look on her face softens into a faint smile. “Why? You want some?”
“Strawberries and cream aren’t really my thing, actually. But we don’t need to stay here if you don’t want to.”
“Where are you thinking of going?” Excitement elevates the pitch of her voice. “The cliffside again?”
“Actually, I think it’s time I get you home.”
“Oh,” she sighs, deflating. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
Disappointed already—and she doesn’t even know what she’s missing. Maybe I can draw tonight out for a little longer… once we get out of this joint.
I walk up to the counter and slap my card down instead. The waitress lowers her newspaper and looks down at it, then back up to me. “Cash only.”
“Since when is this joint cash only?”
“Since our scanner thingy broke.”
“What if I don’t have cash?”
“I do,” Lia says, stepping up beside me. God, she’s quiet on her feet—I’m not used to people popping up when I don’t expect them. She holds out a fifty and winces slightly, eyes darting to me for reassurance. “Hopefully, that’s enough?”
“…Yes,” I say, frustration pushing my voice into a growl. Letting someone else pay isn’t what I do—but if the fucking scanner’s busted, I guess I don’t have any other choice. “That’s definitely enough.”
The waitress rustles up the change in silence. Lia’s teeth worry her lower lip, and she doesn’t relax until she’s handed back a wad of bills and a sprinkle of coins.
“Thirty-nine thirty-three’s your change. G’night.”
And with that, the waitress goes right back to the newspaper.
“Fifty is a hell of a high estimate for a dessert and a drink,” I note as we head out the door. My mind rolls over how she wouldn’t understand that.
“I’m not used to having to worry about money. I mean—my father takes care of all of it. I can’t spend it because… we don’t have a lot. Which is why I’m here on a scholarship.”
Jesus Christ. She really isn’t kidding about her dad being overprotective. “Depriving your kid of money seems… extreme.” Even my own father doesn’t do that, though it’s mostly for his own sake—as his representative in the outside world, I can’t ever look like money is an obstacle to me.
“I guess. I don’t really have a basis for comparison, you know?”
She reaches the motorcycle first and turns to face me, one hand on the seat. Waiting for me to give her a boost. Trepidation ripples through me—shit, I need to check myself; I’m not the only one getting comfortable with this, and I’m not the only one who will be hurt if it blows up in my face.
But there she is, waiting for me with the slightest of smiles, her wind-mussed hair silvery in the darkness. Waiting—waiting for me. And right now, I don’t have the strength to deny her that.
I grasp her at the waist, but don’t lift her up just yet. My fingers find the warm stretch between her tank top and her jeans, and I can feel her whole body flutter with a trembling breath as I linger there. It’s absurd how easily she arouses me, and she’s not even trying. Maybe that’s part of it—she’s not tripping over her ankles to get a chance with me like most of the other girls. There’s no forced seductiveness shaping the way she moves, the way she speaks, the way she presses her body towards me, leaning into my grip as if I’m the only thing chaining her to the world.
I dip my head beside hers until I’m just close enough for her hair to brush my lips.
“Remember,” I whisper, “hold on tight.”
Then I’m lifting her onto the back of the seat, and both of us are out of breath when I swing my leg over the bike and grip the handlebars. Her arms close around me—I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but I could swear that she’s holding them just a bit lower than usual. Low enough to tease me.
Fucking get it together, Ryker. You’ve got a good twenty minutes’ ride ahead of you.
Over the course of those twenty minutes, I don’t relax in the slightest. If anything, Lia’s constant warmth crushed against me only heightens my fervor. Her thighs, her hips—everything about her figure is electric where it connects with mine, and the heated rumble of the motorcycle beneath me doesn’t do much to help.
Fuck it, I’ve decided by the time we pull up to the school gates. I can’t take this for another fucking second.
I kill the engine and get down from the bike. Lia pivots for me, ready for a lift—but this time, my hands don’t go straight to her midriff. Instead, one plunges into the wild waves of her hair, and the other clasps her jaw, drawing her close enough for her mouth, gasping and desperate, to find mine.
Tongue, lips, feverish breath. I inhale her sweet-salty scent, rosewater, and sweat from the dance floor, until I’m half-intoxicated—and I don’t stop there. Lifting her off the bike, her legs instinctively wrap around my waist. Soft sounds pour from the lips beneath mine, tiny frantic moans as I carry her towards the brick half-wall on the other side of my bike.
As much as I’d love to carry her back to my room. I don’t want to wait that long.
Every second spent with her intoxicates me. Taking my position between her open thighs, I pull her flush against me. A soft cry escapes her as the hard thick length of my cock strains through my jeans, drawn to her pussy. The only thing keeping me from fucking her till she screams is the clothing between us.
Tightening my grip within her hair, I pull her body more demandingly into my own. Head tilting back, she gasps as my lips move slowly over her jaw, down the length of her soft delicate neck. I’d half expect her to surrender, but she doesn’t. Her hips move against my cock in no real motion showing me just how much of a virgin she really is.
Seeing her come away like she is forces something inside me to a primal level I didn’t realize was possible. She’s the prey, and I’m the hunter.
A vixen waiting to be unleashed.
Letting my hand slide from her hair down to her neck, I grip it tight. A gasp leaving her as her lips part in ecstasy. Pinned to the wall by my body, my other hand slides up underneath the fabric of her shirt to her round perky breasts beneath.
The desire to wrap my mouth around her erect nipples courses through me. But if I go that route there”s no telling if I’d be able to stop. Instead, I let my fingers tease them–before brushing over and pinching them firmly. Earning a small cry from her that has my balls tightening with the thought to claim what no one else has.
It’s as if the desire to feel her tight cunt stretch from the width of my cock has become too much for her to ignore.. Though she doesn’t really know what being blown away is… yet.
Gripping her thighs, I hold her in place. Thrusting myself against her, only to hear the soft sweet moans of pleasure escape her throat. The rest of the world is gone. Having faded into the background as I lose myself against her.
I realize what’s about to happen an instant before it does.
She throws her head back, exposing the curve of her throat to the moonlight, and shudders against me as her climax releases. Her thighs quiver in a rush of rapid contractions, mouth agape, eyelashes fluttering. She whimpers, sighs… and finally slumps backwards, completely slack, with only my arms to keep her from spilling to the ground.
Fucking Christ. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“What…” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. “That was…”
“You’re so fucking sexy.”
It may be dark outside, but I don’t miss the way her face seems to flush in the moonlight. Her eyes widen with utter shock and astonishment. It’s clear nothing like that has ever happened to her before. And though her lips are parted as if to speak, nothing comes out at first.
“Ryker—”
A twig snaps.
I’m on high alert in a heartbeat. Lia stiffens as well, straightening up within my arms.
“Is that…” Her lips brush my earlobe, sending another throb of need all the way down to my stiffened cock—but I can’t allow myself any relief right now. I know the sound of footsteps when I hear them, and I’d bet my life that we aren’t alone out here.
“Come on,” I say, hoisting her to the ground. When I step back, the cool air hits me like a slap. I already miss her touch and long to drag her back to shed our fucking clothes and show her real pleasure…
But I’m smarter than that. Smarter than I’ve been throughout all of tonight—I can’t let myself go the way that I have been.
“Let’s get back to your dorm.”