Chapter Ten #2
“Maybe when you’re done with him, you let me get a taste of your fat little cunt.
That’s what you’re doing, aren’t you? Playing him?
Us? I bet you can talk. I bet they’re right.
You’re faking it. Scream, Raven. Call for help.
” He shoves my leg further into my chest, the stretch a dull ache before now burning. Throbbing.
I free a hand and slap him. He doesn’t even flinch but the glint in his eyes becomes blatantly murderous, terrifying and I feel my own fear and anger recoil from my body.
I return one of my own, a melody forming in my mind, thoughts racing through me at the speed of light.
Suddenly the only thing I can think about is seeing him above me, just like this, but bloodied. Mangled. Dead.
I manage to buck, one last time and he settles back on his haunches.
“What’s going on?” I snap my focus to Jonas’ questioning face and Riordan looks embarrassed. Whether it’s me, his brother, or the questionable position we’re in, I don’t know. I catch Chase adjusting himself discreetly but he’s not as slick as he thinks he is.
Chase pulls away and laughs like I didn’t just slap him or didn’t buck his big ass off me or that his dick isn’t hard.
“Nothing, Loverboy. Helping each other stretch.” I hate the way he says that, with flirty undertones like I wanted him to touch me.
He gets off me. “You’re here now, though.
You should do her other leg. Really stretch those hammies out for later use.
” He winks and tilts his head just a smidge while looking at his brother to indicate they should go over there.
Riordan follows him to a set of machines and I get up, glaring after him.
I don’t think he realizes that out of the two of us, only one has cheated death.
A shiver runs through me, that melody, so loud and clear as I stare at the back of his head, tilting back, laughing loudly at something one of his buddies says as though he didn’t just have his dick swelling against me, threatening me.
I’m boiling on the inside, a plan, forming, twisting, rooting, growing .
“Raven?”
I look back at Jonas, hazel eyes clouded with confusion.
One eyebrow is arched and I hate that he looks as though I’ve hurt him.
He hasn’t used my name in days. It’s been baby .
I like it when he calls me baby. I grab my phone from the floor and pull up a picture of a punching bag and show it to him.
He looks down at it, surprise replaces the confusion in his eyes and he lets out a soft laugh. “The boxing stuff is all upstairs. Is that what you’re into?” He asks, his voice a soft purr that soothes me. I like his voice. I like his face. I love the way it feels when he’s touching me.
I could really fall for someone like Jonas Anderson.
“C’mon, I’ll show you how to get up there.
” He grabs my gym bag from the turf and I follow him down the hall that leads to the locker rooms and points to the open stairwell.
He hands me my bag as I get on the first step to go up.
“I’ll… I’m gonna start my workout. Maybe I’ll catch you when you’re done. ”
My heart tumbles in my chest and before he can turn away from me, I grab his hand and tug him to me.
I wrap my arms around his waist and try my hardest, to somehow apologize for being short with him yesterday and then avoiding him today with a hug.
He didn’t deserve it. I know he didn’t. But I don’t know how else to make it up to him.
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
I could kiss him, but I’m afraid if I start, I won’t be able to stop.
I won’t know how to stop. Maverick is right and I hate him for being so damn receptive.
I’m so fucking touch starved I’d probably let Jonas pop my cherry against the wall of the open stairwell where anyone can walk by and see us. Why is that so hot to me?
When Jonas finally wraps his strong arms around me, I put my chin on his chest between his pecs and look up at him. He smells like teakwood, patchouli, a bit of sweat but it’s all man and I hope he can see or feel what I’m trying to say.
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
He groans when he looks down at me, “Raven, you can’t look at me like that.”
I quirk an eyebrow in response.
“Like you could love me…”
I could.
“It makes me want to hurt Chase, my best friends other half, for touching you. It’s unreasonable, this feeling.
Like jealousy even though it’s redundant.
I hate that he touched you. But you’ve just been so hot and cold, Raven,” I wish he’d stop saying my name like that.
“And I don’t know how to help you. I don’t know what you want.
I wish you could talk to me, but even if you did, I don’t think you understand just how much sway you have over me and I think it would be dangerous letting you know exactly what you make me feel. ”
I pull away, but only just enough to balance on my tip toes, and kiss under his jaw, right where his pulse is strong, beautiful, just like him. Suddenly, I can feel him hardening against my stomach and the warmth he makes me feel spreads down between my thighs.
“Fuck, baby…” I shiver at the way his hushed voice sends sparks fluttering through me.
His hands firmly grab my hips. And there, against the wall of the gym stairwell, Jonas Anderson crashes his perfect, firm yet soft lips against mine.
He tastes like mint and feels like lightning.
With a growl, he licks the seam of my lips, I give him full access, our tongues touch and then his enters my mouth, dancing along the length of mine.
Jonas Anderson does not kiss. Jonas Anderson devours .
He pulls away, both of us panting, chests heaving, pupils dilated, his dick throbbing against me, my pussy silently pleading for it. He touches his forehead to mine.
“Fuck.” Is all he says before diving in for my lips again, pecking, nibbling, kissing from my lips to my neck, licking tasting, teasing and back up to my lips.
It's everything I have ever wanted in a soul snatching kiss. It is all him and I want more.
“Jonas?”
“Goddammit.” He breathes against me, a noise between a whimper and a growl low in his chest emerges from him.
He pulls away and we turn to see Riordan, eyeing us with a smirk on his handsome chiseled face.
The one that looks like Chase’s but also doesn’t.
I look at him curiously, waiting for the music to begin.
Where Riordan has sun-kissed freckles along the bridge of his nose that gives him a boyish charm, Chase is void of them.
Chase is void of a lot of things except hormones.
When there’s no murderous symphony that plays in my mind when I look at Riordan, I let my arms around Jonas drop just a bit.
“Coach called for a uh, last-minute practice before tomorrow. We need to go.”
And just like that, with a last glance over his shoulder, I’m left in an empty stairwell with bruised lips, a needy pussy and my heart still pounding for a man with chestnut hair, brown-green hazel eyes with golden specks that kisses like his life depends on it.
I’m so fucked for Jonas Anderson and I don’t care.
_____
Friday morning I’m woken up by a chill coming though my open window. I get up to close the it but looking at the clock, it would be best if I just started getting ready, head to the library and made headway on my research, both on Ed Kemper for Harrington’s class and the names on the ledger.
When I leave the dorms, I find Chase out by the Koffee Kart, which is more like a kiosk than a cart.
I keep my head down, wanting nothing more than to never interact with him ever again.
But then… but then the idea of seeing him bleeding all over me makes me stop and stand behind him, pull out my phone, and order from the little kiosk.
He glances down at me over his shoulder and huffs out an annoyed sigh.
“How are you supposed to order if you can’t talk? ”
I show him the order I’m waiting for on my phone; a large vanilla macchiato with an extra shot, made with oat milk so it’s not overtly sweet with my frosted blueberry scone. I downloaded the app as soon as I learned there was one available.
“I suppose you’re wanting me to apologize for yesterday?”
I scrunch up my nose just as the woman behind the kiosk counter yells out, “Raven!”
Not really. The last thing I expect from Chase is a fucking apology for assaulting me in broad daylight in a fucking gym.
I grab my order, and turn away, shaking my head to myself.
How does one covertly seduce a man? Especially a man like Chase?
I’m sure I could just flash him my pussy and he’d salivate.
But he thinks I’m fucking with Jonas. Which I’m not.
I doubt it would be that easy. Slowly seducing Chase could take weeks and I have nothing but time.
I want Chase at my mercy. Which I won’t give.
When I’m heading to the library, I hear footsteps behind me. The hairs on the nape of my neck stand and I feel a chill. I pick up my pace, wishing I could’ve just waited for Jonas but this can’t wait.
“Relax, it’s just me, Spooks.” Chase says from behind me right before I start running. I let out my breath and turn to face him. “ I’m not stalking you. I have a paper due Monday. I’m going to the same place you are. The student library?”
I don’t wait for him to open the door to the building.
I open it myself and go straight up to the third floor, the philosophy and psychology section, then down to the biographies, grab the titles I need and go back down to the lobby where all the tables are, setting my stuff down at the first table by the large windows that shows off the ancient weeping willows by the quad.
I hug the cup containing my macchiato and just stare, for a little, watching the sun rise behind the expansive tree line when I feel eyes on me.
I search around the empty building, finding no one and nothing but empty tables and chairs… until Chase decides my table works for him. And then he sits down in the chair across from me with a brow quirked and that stupid fucking permanent smirk on his face.
Okay. I’ll play his game.
I scoot my things over so he can set his things down by mine.
I put in my ear buds and let Erik Satie's Gnossienne No.
1 settle over my brain like a gentle caress, smoothing out the grey wrinkles and open up the FBI agent that interviewed Ed Kemper's biography, pulling out my notebook with my notes from Harrington’s class and another to make more annotations as I go along.
I scrunch my nose reading about Kemper’s childhood, a piece of me, empathetic and sad at his sorry excuse of a mother. I shake my head when thoughts of my own start invading my mind. I close my eyes and let out a shaky sigh. I could almost hear Harrington’s snarky comments.
“Oh… poor little rich girl, daddy died… mommy didn’t hug you enough…
you were tossed into a little locker and had your little leg broken.
Is that why you’re a such a little slut for me?
Hmm? Is that why you liked spreading yourself for your older professor on his desk?
You’re no better than the rest of the slutty girls dying for a taste of my dick.
Is that what you want? To taste your professors thick cock?
You loved the thrill of feeling me shoot my cum in your ass, didn’t you?
Because mommy doesn’t love you enough? All the money in the world and you still want to be fucked like a filthy, filthy bitch in heat. ”
I groan inwardly when heat settles in my belly and down to my sex. Fuck me. Where did that come from? I’m sure Damon would have a field day if I told him about that.
Chase taps my shin with his shoe and I take out an earbud. “You okay? You look sick.”
I feel like I’m going to be. I want to say. I reach over and tap his hand twice with my fingers to let him know I’m okay.
He nods once and I keep writing my paper. If I turn it in to Harrington on Wednesday after class, I won’t have to see him Thursday. The less I see him, the better.
I just need to focus and forget the feeling of his strong fingers on me. Forget the feel of his callouses as they guided my panties down the soft skin of my outer thighs…
Focus, Ray.