3. RYA
3
RYA
Jaxon groans as our tongues duel, threading the fingers of his free hand through my hair, and drags me closer. “You’re making me crazy, Rya.” His voice is husky, warming me to my toes. “I’m so fucking glad I came to this party,” he mumbles against my mouth.
A breath stutters from me, and I grip his shoulders for support. Biting my lip, I wonder if he’s as affected by the rum we’ve consumed as I am. There’s no denying I’m in a ridiculous state of drunkenness. Somewhere in my alcohol-soaked brain, I’m aware Jaxon and I have only met tonight, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t have who I want, anyway. So, why shouldn’t I at least have some fun?
Not wanting to think too much more about it, I press myself against Jaxon’s chest and concentrate on kissing the shit out of him. My heart hammers in my chest as my thoughts scatter. The fleeting thought that slowing the fuck down would be smart takes up residence, but quickly leaves. I want to experience being fucking free to do what I want for once. I don’t know if a single thing could stop the inebriated one-way train I’m on with Jaxon. Not with the way he’s holding me and touching me. He seems nice enough. I think. Please let him be a nice guy.
Breathless from our kisses, I ease back to stare at him through bleary eyes, my body on fire. Touching a finger to his lip, I draw in a breath. “You’re a good kisser.”
He shoots me a goofy smile, tilting his head to the side before booping me on the nose. That makes me laugh for the next thirty seconds while he smiles at me. “I’ll tell you a secret, Rya,” he whispers into the hair at the top of my head as he pulls me close.
The room spins, and I suck in a breath. “What’s that?”
“I like the way you kiss, too. You taste so fucking good, I wanna taste you everywhere.”
His bold statement has lightning zipping down my spine, striking right between my legs. Does he mean…? “O-oh,” I stutter, my eyes widening. “You do?”
“Yep.” As if to prove his point, he leans close, running his lips from my jaw down to my collarbone, nibbling and licking at my skin the entire way.
I drop my head back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on me. There’s only one tiny problem. One that I belatedly realize Hazel had been trying to help me avoid earlier: I have to pee. Like really bad. I grit my teeth, putting a hand to my woozy head as I ease back, only to have Jaxon pull me close as he nips at my lips. I gently push on his shoulder with my hand. “Um. Jaxon?”
His chest rises and falls a few times before our eyes connect, and he finally murmurs, “Yeah? You like this, right?” His eyes flick back down to my lips, and he squeezes my hip with one hand. Beneath me, his cock has stirred to life, probably thanks in part to my squirming, and his erection between my legs like this is causing all sorts of desires to flood through me…
“I do, but I—” I blink for what might be a long time before my eyes pop open again and fight to focus on him. I bring my hand to his chest. “Jaxon,” I mumble, “this is kinda humiliating, but I gotta pee.” I fall forward in his lap, crashing against his chest, and laugh at how crazy this is that I’m going to have to empty my bladder in front of this insanely hot guy.
He throws his head back, chuckling. “Okay. Um.” Glancing beside us, he eyes what’s left of our bottle of rum. “We probably weren’t going to win anyway.”
“Sorry,” I blurt out.
Shaking his head, he shrugs. “No need to be sorry. We’re close to done, but not that close.”
There’s maybe a third remaining. “I’m game to keep going, we just have to take care of my pea-sized bladder. I can be quick.” Oh god, did I just mention my tiny bladder out loud? I cringe, hiding my face behind my free hand, then peek up at him from between my fingers. “I’m having fun.”
“Okay, you got it. Let’s do this.” He nods in the direction the only light has been coming from. “I think the bathroom is over there.”
Let’s? I try to stand on wobbly legs, but as I do, I jerk hard on his arm. “Oops.” Oh god. Right. We’re still… attached. I cover my mouth, giggling as my head spins and spins. “Are you okay?”
Jaxon huffs out a deep laugh as he gets to his feet. “Yeah. I’m good. Come on.” We follow the light to the door, both of us stumbling in our awkward rush to the bathroom. I stop at the threshold, looking up at Jaxon’s profile with a wince.
I blurt, “Is there any option my rum brain isn’t considering that is not absolutely humiliating?” No. No, there’s not. I can answer my own question, no matter how unsteady on my feet I am or how mushy my head feels.
A low chuckle rumbles from Jaxon’s chest. “I mean… I could pee in front of you, too, if that’d help. You know, take a we’re-in-this-together sort of stance?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “Omigod, no.” I shake my head and lower my voice before whisper-shouting, “I might see your dick.” I wave a hand in front of me before I burst into giggles. “Nope.” But the need to relieve myself grows more urgent with every second.
“I’m not gonna look, Rya. Come on.”
Through the haze of my alcohol stupor, I recognize the unbearable truth: this is going to be the most embarrassing, awkward moment of my life. I groan, squeezing my eyes shut and clamping my legs together at the same time. With a nod of my head, the decision is made. “I’d never do this if it wasn’t an emergency.”
“Got it.” Jaxon ushers me into the small powder room with him. “How do you want to do this?”
Taking a deep breath, I let my eyes drift upward to the firm lips that were all over me just a few moments ago. My body gives an involuntary shudder as I try to pop the button of my jeans with one hand.
“Need help?” His lips have twisted into an amused smirk.
“I just need my other hand.” I tug our hands near my stomach, which brings him a step closer. Unfastening my jeans, I pull the zipper down, cringing inwardly at my choice of underwear. “Oh, shit. I wore the ones with the little flowers all over them.” I blink. “Fuck, did I say that out loud?”
He huffs out a laugh. “You did.” I don’t miss the way his eyes trail down the front of me, landing on the V of my underwear currently visible. “And look at that, they do. ”
My face is already hot, so I doubt it’s obvious that I’m blushing. “Um.” How do I do this without showing him all my goodies? I weave on my feet for a second until his hand catches my bicep to hold me steady.
With the way this bathroom is designed, this isn’t going to be so easy. He’s on my right, and the toilet is situated next to the wall of the tiny cubicle we’re trapped in together until I’ve done my business.
“What if I stand against the back wall there? I won’t look. Promise.”
In a rush, I gasp out, “I don’t care. It’s fine. I’ve just—” He seems to sense I can’t wait any longer and takes the lead, moving into position. For a few seconds I struggle with my jeans. They’re stretchy but maneuvering with his wrist attached to mine is awkward, and as I yank them down—along with my panties—his hand brushes my bare hip. Nothing matters, though, not now, as I hurriedly sit. “Oh my god,” I groan with humiliation. It’s as if there’s a waterfall cascading from me, and it goes on for what feels like forever. No matter how drunk I am, I’m unsure if I’ll ever be able to look this guy in the eye again. I curse my miniscule excuse for a bladder.
I finish up, and when I’m ready to stand, another burst of embarrassment flares. I peek up to make sure he’s still looking at the wall, then get up and tug my panties back into place. The jeans are a little more difficult, but once that’s managed, I wobble over to the sink to wash my hand, mumbling to myself. “Should’ve quit, Rya. That was not cute.”
“Sure it was,” Jaxon says gruffly. His teeth scrape over his lip, and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before touching a few fingers to my chin. He tips my face to his, and before I know it, his lips are on mine again. They coax and tease, then on a groan, his tongue pushes into my mouth as he leans over me. My ass is at counter height, and without too much trouble, he helps me sit on the edge in front of the sink basin. The hands that are bound, we hold upright between us, and with my other, I tug him closer by the back of his neck while his free hand slides under the hem of my cropped top, grazing the skin of my abdomen. My thighs fall open of their own accord, and I use my legs to pull him between them.
I suck in a gasp as Jaxon tugs the cup on my bra down, exposing my very small breast to his hand. He kneads at my chest, then pulls at the nipple. “Oh fuck.” Sparks go off all along my skin, and I pant into his mouth, unable to control the way sensation after sensation crashes through me.
He slips his hand from my breast around to my back, splaying it over my ass before helping me cant my hips and draw closer. His erect dick lines up with my pussy, and he groans as we grind together. With every second this goes on, I’m getting more and more frantic, flying out of control… but also the alcohol is really starting to hit me hard.
My eyelids begin to droop, and I can tell the way I’m responding is a bit slow. I’m really— I put my hand to his chest, unable to even finish the thought. “Jax. I?—”
There’s a percussionist in my head, banging on the most annoying drum ever, and occasionally also crashing his drumstick against the cymbals. Ohmygodpleasestop. Wincing, I clutch at my head with both hands and lie there for several minutes, while my brain throbs to the incessant rhythm. I moan low and long, the sound pathetic as it leaves my lips. Fuck my life. This is awful. My throat is incredibly dry, and I make several attempts at rolling my tongue around to wet my mouth, but… there’s nothing but the texture of sand in there, gritty and gross.
Rolling over, I’m assaulted by an unknown light source and flinch, squinting even though I think my eyes might be shut. My brows draw together painfully. Something isn’t right. The morning sun is hitting me from the wrong direction. What the hell? I put my hand over my face, feeling absolutely wretched. Every breath inhaled brings a fresh wave of nausea.
What have I done to myself? It’s a strain on my post-inebriated mental capacity to sift through last night’s memories, most of which are hazy and… dark. At this point, I have no true recollection of the events after we entered Tri-Beta. I’m sure it’ll come to me. All I know is this might be the worst I’ve felt in my entire life, including the time I got food poisoning from that steak house and puked up my guts for six hours straight. If I don’t help myself soon by getting water and some ibuprofen in me, I’ll be hating life for the remainder of the day.
How the hell did I even get back to my room? Did Logan bring me back? I honestly can’t remember. Shit, I’d better check in with him, just in case. He’s probably wishing he hadn’t escorted us to that fucking frat party. Forcing myself to sit up, I groggily swing my legs over the side of the bed before attempting to pry my eyes open. One thought plays on repeat in my head.
I have regrets.
Pressing my fingers against my forehead, I finally bite the bullet, rejoining the world. The first thing I see is a bottle of water on the nightstand and a handful of painkillers. Without thinking too much, I snatch the pills up and throw them into my mouth, then uncap the water and take several gulps. I hope it all doesn’t come back up as my stomach pitches and gurgles at the invasion.
In an attempt to calm myself, and the riot in my belly, I take several slow, exaggerated breaths. My lips are parched, and I wet them as I scan my surroundings in a daze. I’m facing a greige wall. My gaze dips down and follows the ornate white trim that runs along the baseboard. The paint is cracked and peeling, and the color itself is kinda dingy, but then again, these dorms are old. I don’t bother looking up, I know the same trim decorates the wall at ceiling height. My mother would know all the fancy names for this stuff, and to be fair, as the daughter of an interior designer, I should probably know it too, but I can’t even focus with my head pounding the way it is. I frown. That window shouldn’t be there. And my bed is situated wrong. As I take in the dark bedding in muted grays and black, my brain stutters. This definitely isn’t the purple duvet I’d come to Deveney Hall with, and my freak-out begins. Oh, fuck. This is not my room.
So, where the fuck am I?