Chapter 3
three
Despite wearing both my suit jacket and coat over her own parka, she shivers. Violently. At every red light, I reach back and rub her legs, trying to get them warm.
“Maybe this was a stupid idea,” I yell from under my helmet.
She shakes her head. “No! Go faster!” That’s all I can hear before I take off again.
Her hands slide around my chest, and it’s enough heat for me. It travels in waves down to where I want it to go… Especially when her nails dig into my skin as I pull the throttle down harder.
We pick up speed, turning down a country road, and her delighted squeal makes me grin. Wide and reckless. She sticks her legs out as I accelerate even faster. I can’t remember the last time I felt this free.
Wind whips across my body, which is only covered by my button-down and slacks. Hopefully, I don’t get these dirty. Dry cleaning’s a bitch.
Not entirely sure where to take her, I aim for the Maned Marauder’s hangout, The Underpass. Usually, there’s a bonfire going. And someone will have the game playing on a tablet so I can catch the Stallions’ score.
The old electrical rooms underneath the highway make cozy make-out spots. Not that I assume Scout wants more. But the way she’s leaning into my back, and how tightly she’s holding on to me, says she might.
It’s been a long time since I kissed someone. Maybe two years. Longer?
Carrie was the last, and we broke up in sophomore year. So, yeah. Almost two years.
I’m not one for hook-ups. Especially after…
Well, it’s just not for me.
But fuck, my cock is ready to go. Full-on throbbing. Excited a woman is this close to my body and actually wants to be there.
I cut the engine and slip off the bike, then help Scout. We remove our helmets, our eyes meeting with questions for one another. Her long, brunette hair is tangled at the ends, and I reach down to straighten a knot as she shrugs inside my coat. The hem reaches all the way to her calves.
“Thanks. I didn’t know a motorcycle could feel like that.” With a wiggle, she squeezes her legs together and crosses her arms. “My thighs are numb.”
I could make them tingle. Could make her entire compact body melt. Put her on my dick, spin her around… Fortunately, I don’t say any of that aloud.
She glances around the scattered leather-clad crowd. Most of the guys circle old metal bins, orange flames dancing out of them.
“You want to get warm?” I ask, nodding at the closest fire.
“Sure.”
As we approach, a few of the Marauders greet me with slaps on the back or knuckle taps.
“Apollo!”
“Mr. President!”
“What’s up, my man?”
“Who’s your friend?” my brother, Nico, asks. Voice sharp and eyes steady. Already, he’s flirting with her with a flutter of his dark lashes. Fucker.
“Hi! I’m Scout. I’m new.” She waves with her fingers like she’s giving a speech at a beauty pageant.
The guys slyly send me smirking, knowing looks. Smug grins. A few winks.
I silently beg them to behave.
“Scout, this is one of my brothers, Nico. That’s my buddy, Adal. There’s Mose. And Wrench is over there.” I introduce a few people.
Nico nods toward the makeshift bar area someone set up on a folding table. “You want a drink, Scout? We have beer and some terrible moonshine—”
“Moonshine!” She gasps like it’s the greatest thing ever. “I’ve never tried it. Can I?”
She looks up at me in desperation. As if she’s asking for my permission. My eyes grow wide as the group chuckles around us. “Uh, sure. Nic, grab me a beer.”
Nico pours some clear liquid into a red cup, then finds a can of the cheap stuff for me from a cooler. Scout snatches the drink from him when he returns. Before drinking, she takes a deep sniff. “Ugh! That burned my nostril hairs!”
She stares at the liquid in the bottom almost scientifically. Leaning down, I drop my voice. “Best to down it quick. But, hey.” I flick my gaze around to make sure no one’s listening in. “I’ll get you home safe. You’re at…Omega House?”
One chug and it’s down her throat, a sharp grimace tearing across her lips. “That was horrible,” she whispers, like she’s trying to be polite.
I nod, cracking open the beer. “It really is.”
“Can I have another?” she asks loudly, and instead of laughter this time, the guys around us narrow their eyes.
“Maybe that’s not a great—”
“Just one more. Thanks.” She ends with a solid nod, like it’s a done deal. And shoves the cup at Nico.
He turns toward the table to grab some, and I almost protest. But, like a smart big brother, he pours half, then adds water in with it. He fills another cup with water for himself.
When he returns, he holds up both drinks. “I’ll take a shot with you, Scoutie. What are we celebrating?”
“That I’m broken up with the asshole who cheated on me!”
Everyone around the fire raises cups and cans with loud cheers. Someone throws a glass bottle against the bridge pillar.
“Fuck that idiot!”
“Give us a name, Scoutie!”
“Concrete shoes…”
She laughs like something feral finally slipped from its cage, her body swaying heavily into me. I pull her back into my chest, arms over her shoulders to keep her steady.
“You cold?” I ask, and she seems to think about this for a long while.
“I think so? It’s hard to tell with all the pure grain in my belly.”
I snort. The way she talks is…smart. Obviously, she’s sharp as a whip. Intimidating as hell. But there’s some wild freedom about her that’s infectious.
“You want to head inside? We can get out of the wind in there—”
She faces me, and my heart skips a beat at the way she gazes up into my eyes, all heated lust and devilish ideas. “Yeah, I do.”
Holding her balled-up fist in mine, I lead her to the metal door sunk in the side of the crumbling concrete.
The back room has a scratchy plaid sofa, some raggedy chairs, and a stool set up with the game playing on an ancient TV set.
A few Marauders lounge around, toking on blunts and sipping their drinks.
It’s warmer here. Almost cozy with the dim string lights around the ceiling and the rugs made from flattened cardboard.
Last summer, Wrench and my brother decorated the walls with their graffiti. I’m not talented like that, but they made it look like a place you want to be.
I perch on the edge of the couch, and without warning, Scout sheds the coats, laying them on the cushion beside us. And just plops onto my lap. My brain takes a second to catch up with my body, especially when she tosses her arms around my neck and plants a liquored kiss against my lips.
A war wages inside me between what I want and what I should do.
The guys head toward the door and evaporate as if we detonated a smoke bomb.
“Whoa…” I say, tugging her back by her gathered hair.
She writhes against my dick, her sequined dress hitching up to her hips.
Huffing out a breath, I try to get control of myself. “Slow down. I, uh. I don’t want to take advantage.”
“Take advantage of me,” she whispers breathily, peppering kisses along my jaw. Every press of her lips sends a surge of sparks across my skin. I sip in a sharp inhale to keep from throwing her down and fucking the shit out of her.
“I think… I get that you want revenge. And we can hang out. I…”
How do I say that I’m not that kind of guy?
While also really wanting to be that guy?
She slides to the side of me, and I think she’s pissed at the rejection. Her eyes won’t meet my gaze, focused instead on the nasty floor.
With righteous passion, she blurts out, “I scored higher than him on the national organic chemistry exam! And he got accepted to my first choice of medical school. His MCAT wasn’t even that good! He doesn’t play any sport.”
She jabs a finger at her heart. “Me? I play soccer and tennis. I volunteer at every opportunity I can. I feed the squirrels on campus whenever they look hungry, mainly in front of the administration building, so they’ll see how much I do.
Oh! Speaking of! I did work-study with the Dean of Health Sciences last year. Ayan does nothing.”
Her bottom lip juts out as I reel from her rant. For some reason, she felt it was necessary to give me her academic resume. Her long lashes flutter as she smiles at me. “I’ll be president of Omega my senior year, though. And I’ll go to Johns Hopkins. Get a higher rank than him, too, I bet.”
I open my mouth, but don’t even know what to say.
Fortunately, she cuts me off. “Did you know that Lakshmi’s in hospitality management? Hospitality! Management! I bet she doesn’t even know what a compound fraction is. I bet her brain is filled with thoughts like, I wonder what I should wear that will make me look like a dirty whore!”
“Lakshmi—”
“Iota’s president.”
“Ah.”
Silence passes between us for a minute as she stews, huffing and crossing her arms. There’s a silent conversation going through her brain at a rapid speed. And I’m not part of it.
She spies a blunt laying on the stool, and I marvel that I haven’t even once checked the score of the game.
“Can I have some of that?”
“Y-You want weed?”
She nods emphatically. “Yeah. I’ve never tried it.”
“Sure. Okay.” I grab it and pull the lighter from my pocket. “You’re doing a ton of firsts tonight.”
Lighting it, I take a few hits to get it going, plucking a wayward stem off my lip. “Here. Just…go slow.”
She doesn’t. I have a feeling that Scout does everything to the max. Full inhale. Choking. Gasping. Snot everywhere.
I almost snicker, but she does it first. “What the hell is that? My lungs just burned up. Why does it feel like I’m dying and being reborn at the same time?”
I lose it, full mouth open, raucous laughter pouring from my chest. “That’s a good way to put it.”
Still laughing, she wipes her nose. “Okay, no. That can’t be right. I did something wrong.”
“You went too hard.” I bite my lip at the indication, trying to contain the other filthy things I want to say.
“Then show me how not to.”
There’s a challenge in it. Not flirtatious—yet. Just stubborn.
I hesitate a second longer than I should, then take the blunt back, drawing in a slow inhale while she watches me carefully. My hands find her face before I can stop them. Tilting her chin up to meet me…
Our mouths hover close until my entire body tingles.
I exhale slow and steady as she sucks in everything I give her.
An intoxicating white cloud seeps from my lungs and into hers.
A warm, earthy cloud surrounds us. Scout squeezes her eyes closed as my lips brush hers so gingerly, I almost think it didn’t happen.
When her deep blues open one at a time, I whisper, “Take it easy.”
Her gaze drops, dragging down across my neck, to my chest, my arms. Everywhere she looks surges with heat.
“What’s that?” she asks, quieter now, nodding toward the ink winding down my forearms to my hands.
I follow where she’s looking, then study her face. She’s closer than she realizes. Swallowing, I attempt to answer without calling attention to the growing problem pressing against the seam of my trousers. “Uh, Delta letters.”
She tilts her head and sits back. “I want a tattoo.”
“Yeah? What kind—”
“No. I mean, right now. You Marauders all have tattoos. I want one.”
“You want a tattoo right now?” I repeat, my eyes widening.
“Yep. I know what I want. A Rod of Asclepius. On my right hip.” And with that, she stands and yanks her sparkly dress up to her tits.
Like I’ve been punched in the gut, the air is ripped from my lungs.
Here she is, half-naked in black cotton panties.
They’re big. Practical looking. Innocent and terrible.
And so fucking perfect, my balls ache. Gold sequins lifted high, showing off her tight body.
She’s got abs. And a firm ass. One perfect for my palms.
I’m not built for this kind of torture.
“Uh, seems like you’ve thought a lot about this.”
“I have.”
I glance at the door. “I mean, my brother’s a tattoo artist, and he could—”
“Get him. Let’s do it. Right now.” She shrugs, a broad smile crossing her plump lips. “To celebrate new beginnings.”
“Okay, tulip. If you’re serious.”
“I’m always serious. In fact, I’m known for it.”
I’m not exactly sure how to deal with watching her in my brother’s chair. Dress up. Skin all exposed. And my dick so very needy.
But I’m willing to give it a go. Just to see where this leads.
If she asks me for anything tonight?
I’ll give it all to her.