23. Adrian
“Need something else?” he asked, torn between wanting her to stay and knowing she probably shouldn’t.
Her face scrunched and then bloomed bright red as if he’d caught her doing something wrong. “I—uh, no. Unless there’s something I can do for you? I mean—” She sucked in a breath, fiddling with the bottle of conditioner. “Let me start over. Can we be friends instead of not-strangers?”
From her guilty expression, she looked like she had just asked for his left kidney. He almost chuckled. Only a fool would turn down an offer like that. Then he groaned inwardly. He had been that fool. That’s why she’d been nervous to ask.
“Yes, we can call it that,” he answered and closed some of the distance between them, hoping the expression he wore looked nothing like the rejection or anger she’d expected. “As long as you know, I don’t want, or intend, for it to stay that way.”
If possible, her face flushed a shade brighter. “Yes! I don’t, either—want it to stay that way. If that’s okay with you.” The rush of her words was too cute to bear.
His fingers tightened around the pack of cigarettes and crushed them. Why did he have to be trapped like this, unable to embrace her the way he desperately wanted without mixing her up in his shit?
Taking one dangerous step closer, he clarified, “I’ll never be mad at you for asking a question or saying what you want. Don’t hold that back from me, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.” Then she smiled. “I only want you to be as happy as you make me.”
He froze. The air in his lungs vanished. Nothing could have prepared him to hear that.
He tried to regain the ability to function, unaware until after the fact that his thumb idly traced over her bottom lip. So plump and pink. Unimaginably soft.
Not touching her wasn’t an option, apparently. But it wasn’t helping—her silky skin and that expression written on her gracious features, the delicate dip of her cupid’s bow in the sweetest strawberry shade—his thoughts rapidly collapsed into an utter train wreck, and worse, he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
But the next thing she did incinerated the last of his restraint. Her tongue swept out to lick his thumb, tasting his skin before it disappeared back into her mouth.
The effects were intense and immediate. He’d never gotten this hard so fast. His gaze snapped up and honed in on hers, the same delicate jade doe-eyes he’d seen roaming over him much too often to be ignored. She knew exactly what she’d done, and it pleased him to see no trace of regret this time.
He tsked and whispered, “Soon, I’m going to put that tongue to good use.” His tone deepened, low and measured. “But first, let me make one thing clear, sweetheart. Open your mouth.”
Her eyes widened, pupils dilating, and ever so slowly, she parted her lips until that troublesome tongue of hers came into view. Fuck, if he got any harder, his dick was going to tear through his pants. And if he wasn’t careful, he might just let it.
“This mouth was made for me, so perfect,” he mused, pressing his finger inside and gliding over the back of her tongue, careful not to make her gag but intrusive enough to make her drop her jaw. She felt hot and slick, the ultimate temptation wrapped in the most beautiful form. “Made for my pleasure, just like the rest of you.”
Her expression melted as he continued. “You already make me happy, sweetheart. I could spend hours listening to you tell me about the little things you think are insignificant. Watching your smile, seeing you get all hot and greedy for me—I’d gladly do it every day for the rest of my life. You could tell me I’m a piece of shit, and I’d thank you for it.”
Giving her tongue one final caress, he slid out of her mouth to let her respond but didn’t take his hand away. Not yet. A wet trail of saliva followed the path of his fingers to the curve of her neck, where he rested his palm around her throat so she’d feel the weight of his desire, of what it would be like to be his. “Now, do you realize what you do to me?”
She closed her mouth, swallowing before she spoke. Her throat moved under his hand, and his fingers danced over her skin to soak up every reaction.
“Yes,” she said in a broken whisper, all her need and desire pouring out in that single, penetrating word.
He hardened his grip at the sides of her neck, her pulse steady as it thrummed into the tips of his fingers.
“Yes, what?” he growled, loosening his hold to release a rush of blood.
“Yes, sir,” she corrected, a lilt to her voice that resonated deep inside his chest and took root in a place no one had reached before. Every part of her expression became etched with the same yearning and awe he’d felt for her from day one.
Leaning in, he hovered his lips over hers and spoke the only words she deserved to hear. “Good girl.”
Then there was nothing. Nothing and everything all at once. Nothing between their fervent mouths, no space nor air to breathe in the wake of their lips as they joined at last, while everything about her consumed him—the sugary sweetness on her breath, the supple texture of her lips, the heat of her tongue. The uninhibited moan as he claimed her mouth as his, biting into the forbidden fruit without a trace of remorse.
She kissed him back and parted like a flower in full bloom. The urgent press of her lips ebbed and molded with his own, both insatiable, both lost in a void of time that stretched on and on and on until his lungs burned and his lust burned hotter.
“Fuck being friends,” he rasped, out of breath. “You’re more than that. You’re mine, Ivory, and I’ll make damn sure you never forget it.” Pulling away, he released her as she stared back at him, lips a dark red. “As soon as I’m certain I won’t put you in danger, it’ll be my turn to return all the care and happiness you granted me.”
He released her neck and traced a finger over the rosy blush on her cheeks. But her eyebrows knitted as she searched his face. “Danger?”
Shit. Of course, that would make her worry. “It’s nothing you have to be concerned about,” he assured. “When it’s all over, I’ll tell you everything.”
When he could finally be the man that she thought he was.
She frowned, but conceded. “As long as you’re okay.”
He gave her a confident nod.
“One more thing?” she asked.
“Anything.” A dangerous answer, albeit a truthful one.
She smiled, still shy about speaking her mind but at least a little more inclined to do so. “What about those?” she asked, looking down at the crushed and forgotten box of cigarettes in his other hand. “Do they help…or make it harder to deal with things in the long run?”
He sighed, admitting the truth. “I’ve wanted to quit for a while. Then this thing came up, and I lost my momentum.”
“Let me help,” she offered, the hopeful spark in her eyes igniting.
“How do you plan to do that?” he asked.
“Use me instead.” She wrung her hands around the bottle of conditioner, and he frowned. While he fully intended to use her, it wouldn’t be as a method to dull his senses. Quite the opposite.
She hurried to explain, “Like, whenever you want to smoke, text me.”
He hummed, considering her suggestion. “You’re offering to become my new addiction?” he asked, choosing the words intentionally. “To clarify.”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “If you’ll let me.”
This woman.
He took in a deep breath, then picked out a single cigarette and handed the rest of the box to her. “I get my last supper,” he said, looking over regretfully at the new box. “After this one, I’ll text you. Don’t answer if you’re in class or if it’s going to distract you.”
Her face lit up. “Okay! I’ll make sure to check between every class. You won’t have to wait more than an hour, tops. Unless I’m sleeping, but then…”
“I won’t text after midnight. Sound good?” All this excitement over something so small and mundane. It was adorable.
“Deal,” she confirmed.
“All right, what about you?” he mused. “Do I get to choose a reason for you to text me?”
She peered up at him, awkwardly fitting her fingers around both the paper box and the bottle of conditioner. “If…you want to.” She shrugged, but he saw how curiosity sparkled in her eyes. Any chance he offered to please him, she took it without question.
Such a very good girl.
He smiled. “This will certainly be helpful on my end, although I won’t make it mandatory. Only if you’re comfortable with it.” Giving her a stern look, she nodded, and he continued. “Every time you think about me making you come, text me…and if you can, send a photo with it.”
“I—” The rest of her words failed to form. By the look on her face, he could tell she’d already thought of him that way on multiple occasions. About time he got in on at least some of the fun.
“Okay,” she said at last. “I agree.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” A little too much so. “Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” They’d spent more time together than expected, and he didn’t want her trying to walk back to avoid causing trouble for her friend.
She glanced past him out the window, where darkness had crawled over every part of the town save a strip of deep blue sky. “It’s not a bother? I don’t want to disrupt your studies.”
He shook his head and reached for his jacket. “Another thing we have to work on. If you want me to use you, you have to get used to using me too, okay?”
She laughed. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds reasonable.” She turned to look at him from under her lashes, watching as he zipped up the jacket and grabbed his helmet. “Also…this might lead to me having to text you as soon as I get back.”
???
Having Ivory on his bike again, their proximity paired with an acute awareness of her warmth and the depth of her desires, made a cold shower imperative before he sat down to write that stupid essay.
Not getting the text had made it even worse.
Closing the five-page document he had managed to grind out in two hours, he gave up on finishing the essay and started browsing the web for purple bike helmets. The distraction only lasted so long, and as he checked his phone again, he noticed how late it had gotten.
11:11. A good omen? Maybe, or maybe that was a myth, but he decided it was as good of a time as any to text his little witch.
Sleep well, Iv. Thank you for today.
He didn’t wait for an answer and instead went out on the porch to smoke his last cigarette while gazing up at the stars.
Stepping out of her comfort zone wasn’t going to be easy, and he hadn’t fully expected her to agree to his proposition, but now that she’d gotten cold feet, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. Not in her, but rather in the fact that he wasn’t more available. This would be so much better if they could spend more time together in person.
Tomorrow night, he’d take care of all that. Get to the bottom of his need for closure and rid himself of this curse for good. He knew he’d seen an obnoxiously large silver ring recently, and when he placed it with a face, the owner happened to be the one person who conveniently had ties to Red Dragon. Someone he had no issue beating up.
Jace.
Which meant that for a little while longer, it was crucial he didn’t hang around Ivory where Jace or his friends would see. Anyone trying to get in his way would pick her out as an easy target, which was the last thing he wanted.