Текст книги "Devious Minds"

Автор книги: K. F. Germaine

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Thirty-Two

I was leaning against the dorm wall when Sydney burst out of Jack’s door, her beautiful face twisted into scowl and a reckless fury behind her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

She shrugged her bag up her shoulder and started a brisk walk toward the elevators, leaving me behind in a daze. What have I done now?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I ran up to her side as she repeatedly hit the down button. “Are you going to tell me what’s up, or am I supposed to read that sadistic mind of yours?”

She let out an aggravated sigh. “I’m going to tear Katharine’s face off with my own two hands and hang it from the campus flag pole as a reminder to all what bitches get when they cross me,” she said, channeling an emotionless psychopath.

I took in a breath of relief that I wasn’t the focus of her anger. “Why?”

She pushed the button rapidly, then smashed her fist against the elevator door. Pulling back, she rubbed her knuckles.

I took her hand, straightening her fingers one by one. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby. Who’s going to deliver those sweet beats if you go breaking your hand?”

She ripped her hand from mine and looked up with a warning glare. “Don’t call me baby, Peters. You think after one week you can slip back into my good graces?”

Great. Back to Peters.

“No,” I answered coolly, taking a step back. “I don’t, but goddammit, I’m trying. You keep holding a grudge against me for something I didn’t do two years ago. I’m getting tired of this shit.”

Sydney shrugged and stared at the closed steel doors. “I never asked you to try, Peters. I was content on ignoring one another for the rest of our lives, and you ruined it.”

I moved in front of her, and she dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Don’t be a pussy, Sydney. You’re just afraid, and the easiest thing for you to do is leave. Just like two years ago.”

The elevator doors opened and she tried to move past me, but I blocked her access. “You just going to leave me again? Maybe I should go get us some waters and get you another bag of fucking gummy bears.”

Her nut-brown eyes shot up to mine, and I could see the memory knocking behind them. She thought I wouldn’t remember her, but how could I forget?

“And I could come back to a cold, empty bed.” I could hear the fury in my tone and my voice rise, but I couldn’t stop it. “Then I’d run up two flights of stairs to interrogate your friends, who you’d threatened so they wouldn’t tell me anything about the real Sydney. The Sydney I had an amazing night with. Who I wanted to spend more time with. Who I wanted to take to breakfast that morning. Invite to my games every weekend. The girl who rolled in like a whirlwind one night and I couldn’t get out of my head for two fucking years,” I yelled down into her face, and she pulled her head back in surprise.

A few doors opened up down the hall, Jack’s included, and several heads poked out, peering our way. I closed my eyes, feeling my rage swell. This was putting myself out there. I wasn’t ready for it, but I couldn’t get through to her any other way.

Sydney was a destructive tornado whipping through my mind and body. I couldn’t stay away. I had to experience the damage she’d inflict, because just feeling anything with her was better than nothing at all. I was an idiot because I loved Sydney, and even her glare in my direction gave me hope.

When I opened my eyes, she dropped her gaze and shook her head, like she was trying to deflect my words. I wouldn’t let her get away with it, not when she was so close to me.

“Sydney, I want to be with you. Not just one night, but for the foreseeable future. For as long as you can stand me. I want to be with you. I’m all in, Porter. Don’t ruin this… Don’t ruin us before we even get started, because it could be the best thing that’s ever happened to me… to us,” I said low, for her ears only.

Sydney glanced down the hall, noticing the curious faces. Her eyes paused on the dorm staircase door, and her waist turned in its direction. So I waited. I waited for her to leave me again. In front of all these strangers and her own brother, Sydney was going to take the coward’s way out. I relaxed my body, readying myself for inevitable abandonment and the embarrassment that would follow. Just get it over with.

Then she did something unexpected.

Sydney rose onto her tiptoes, wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, and brought my face down for a kiss. Not just for a kiss, but for life support.

It was fierce and hungry, and at the feel of the heat from her mouth, I wrapped my arms around her waist, dragging her into the elevator. I could feel her smiling through our kiss as I hit the lobby button. When hoots and hollers erupted from the hallway, I laughed into her mouth.

When the doors closed, Sydney turned away from me and pulled the emergency stop.

“Sydney, campus security will be here in five minutes.”

She rapidly pushed her hands down my pants, and any argument was worthless.

“Jesuuusss,” I moaned when she reached the waistband of my boxers, dipped inside, pulling her hand across me. Pushing her up against the elevator rail, I gathered her skirt around her waist and slid my fingers between her thighs. God, she was wet and ready.

Her mouth skimmed across my jaw and stopped at my ear. “I want you, Gray,” she whispered, and I thought I was hallucinating, but she rolled her hand across me again, reminding me this was about to get real—very real.

I dropped my sweats to my knees and raised her soft, strong body against the metal wall. No condom. Why did I not have a condom?

“I’m clean, Sydney. Are you… protected?”

She nodded and settled her hips against the elevator handrail. “Yes and yes.” Her mouth crashed onto mine again, pulling my lips between her teeth.

Clumsily, I tried to pull down her underwear but ended up ripping it off like a caveman. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” I said, unable to hide the embarrassment in my voice.

“Shh… it’s okay,” she whispered as she gripped my shoulders tightly and rolled her hands down my back. I relaxed as her fingers kneaded into my muscles. “Please, Gray, I need release.”

Taking a quick glance at the elevator’s ceiling, I said a silent thank you to God.

Gently, I slipped inside her, and we both moaned into each other’s mouths. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and I held her up with one hand, resting the other behind her head to cushion the blow.

On each thrust, her head rose and her lips parted, letting soft, seductive breaths into the air between us. I returned her whimpers with slow carnal noises of my own as I watched her arch back her neck and felt her hips roll over me in languid waves. She was tight, just like I remembered. I bit down on my lip, suppressing a moan. I’d always used condoms, and without a barrier, her dripping heat surrounded me like a glove. Fuck.

“You feel so good, Sydney.” As I spoke, she moved her hands across my chest, sliding them over my shoulders, finally cupping my face. I closed my eyes at the feel of her thumbs massaging the back of my jaw, and soon her lips brushed over mine, teasing me. “Stop flirting and kiss me,” I whispered and opened my mouth for hers.

She pulled my head in closer and her tongue found its way inside, meeting mine with such gentleness and purpose I nearly unleashed right then. When she pulled away, I opened my eyes. She was moving above me with a smile on her lips and a lusty glaze over her eyes. She looked beautiful, and I regretted not taking her home. An elevator in a dorm full of jocks wasn’t where I wanted to be for our first—second—time. She deserved romance and slow pleasure, not hormonal rabbit Gray.

“Sydney, we don’t have to do this here.” I started to lower her, and she gripped my biceps, digging in my arms.

She let out frustrated growl. “Yes, we do,” she ordered. Her eyes darkened as she pulled her heels across my back, slamming myself into her. “I don’t want soft and slow. I want freshman year, against the headboard, screaming your name.”

She gave me a fiendish smile, and I returned it. Her words were driving me insane, and even though I wanted this so badly, I was going to make her work for it.

“You really want that?” I whispered into her ear, slowing the roll of my hips and torturing us both. Sometimes you have to sacrifice to get what you want. “You gonna just take your fill and leave me if I fuck you?”

She narrowed her eyes and released a frustrated groan when I pumped even slower. “Not if I’m fucked so hard I can’t walk,” she countered, and yep, that about did it.

Grabbing Sydney’s outer thigh, I slammed her back against the metal wall and delivered hard enough thrusts to make her breath hitch. With my other forearm, I pinned her wrists above her head and took every ounce of her, pushing deep inside until she was gasping for breath.

“Should I stop?” I teased. But God, I was seconds away from losing it.

“No,” she cried out, trying to catch her breath.

The elevator filled with the sound of glorious wet slaps of skin against skin. We were animals. Tearing one another apart. Groaning and grunting into one another’s mouths, only to pull away to mutter out a fuck or a yes every few seconds.

It was rough. It was primal. It was incredible.

“Everything all right in there?” A voice came from the elevator speaker, and we both shot our eyes toward the door. “I’ll have you out of there in three minutes. Please remain calm.”

We both laughed, and Sydney let out a loud moan when I slammed into her again, sending her head back against a metal panel.

“Sorry, baby,” I whispered, and she clenched over the top of me. “Oh… shit, Sydney.” Diving into her neck, I finished my desperate plea against her throat.

“Are you hurt? I hear moaning in there.” The deep voice shot through the speaker again. “Two minutes now and you’ll be safe.”

Two minutes?

Reaching a hand down, I circled Sydney’s clit with my fingertips. She frantically rocked her hips against my hand, releasing hurried breaths. When she rolled her forehead across my shoulder, I sank my face into her hair, stopping just next to her ear. “That’s right, Sydney, come for me.”

Then she cried out over my shoulder, and I kissed her hard to cover the sound. “Shit, that was loud, baby.” I shot a nervous glance at the speaker.

“Come on, Gray.” Her warm voice licked into my ear. “Don’t I feel good?”

“No… you feel amazing.”

She tightened over me again, and I braced my forearms on either side of her head. Sweat dripped from my forehead as she pulled over me, and my face tensed until I knew it was pink.

“Kiss me, Sydney, because when I come, it’s gonna be loud an—” I just managed to get out those words before a satisfied groan fled from my throat, and I released inside her. Instead of kissing me, Sydney moved her head to the side and laughed. Of course she did.

“Jesus Christ. Is everything okay in there?” The mysterious elevator voice was growing more desperate. Suddenly, the elevator began to shift, descending toward the lobby.

Sydney and I stayed forehead to forehead, panting into each other’s mouths. When I finally lowered her to the ground, I pulled off my T-shirt so she could use it clean up. Both our chests continued to heave wildly as the tension we’d built up over the last six weeks—hell, the last two years—left our bodies.

She pulled down her skirt, grabbed her torn underwear off the floor, and picked up her bag. I pulled up my boxers and sweats. We both stared at one another with no words to describe what just happened. That wasn’t true. I could think of one: life-changing.

“Well?” Grabbing Sydney’s hips, I pushed her back against the wall. “Can you walk?”

When I lowered my head to hers, the elevator doors slid open, but our eyes never wavered from each other’s. Sydney answered my question by meeting my swollen lips with hers, and I leaned my forearm above her head, taking hungry swallows of her tongue.

“Ahem.” A security guard standing outside the elevator cleared his throat. He tapped the wall with his flashlight, hoping the sound would tear us apart.

Sydney reluctantly ripped her mouth from mine and slumped against the wall, catching her breath. Lifting a finger toward the elevator panel, she rasped out, “You guys should really do your maintenance on these things.” With a hitch in her step, she made her way outside elevator.

The guard’s suspicious glare hovered over both of us, and he lifted his walkie-talkie from its holster.

“I mean, the last checkup was two years ago? I should call the fire department. I’m pretty sure that’s a violation.”

No sooner had she said those words than he dropped the talkie. He stepped inside and studied the written log. I stood, dumbfounded and half naked, waiting for Sydney to take off running.

“You gonna stay in there all night?” She arched an eyebrow at me, fixing her messy bun.

I smiled and picked up my T-shirt. “Going up?” I asked the guard and then slammed the top floor button, running out just as the doors closed.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Warm water slid down my body, mixing with Gray’s soap.

I was careful scrubbing over every swollen, aching part of me, but it was worth every second. I’d go back to that elevator so fast your head would spin. Gray’s hands roaming my body. The feel of this tongue slipping against mine. The sound of his groans against my neck. All things that made every sharp thrust against a metal elevator wall worth it.

But God I was scared. Katharine DeSonna (confirmed dream wrecker) knew about Sunday Lane. She knew about my thoughtless nickname for Allison—shallow puddle. She knew about me. And from her murderous glares at Gray’s party, it was now evident she was going to hand me my ass on a platter. Worse yet, she was going to hand it to Northern.

Shit.

I should be out hunting her down, not standing in the doghouse shower, but as much as I feared the imminent death of Sunday Lane, I couldn’t run from Gray.

I won’t run from Gray.

After what he said outside the elevator… how he wanted me… how I left without explanation... and all he wanted was a chance. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. I wanted it too, and if we had any hope to right our wrongs, I couldn’t leave him again.

“Can I come in?” Gray’s timid voice floated around the shower curtain. “I mean, I’ll sit on the toilet while you shower. Not get inside with you.”

“Isn’t there another bathroom you can do that in? Gross,” I teased, waiting for him to burst through the curtain and take me up against the wall.

“What?” He was quiet for a second while his brain caught up to me. “No. I just want to talk to you… I’m not… Jesus, Sydney.”

Feeling a bit disappointed, I kept scrubbing myself as my mind drifted to Jack (no, I don’t think about Jack when I shower, or pee, usually), and naturally my obsessive mind fell back on Katharine. Why hadn’t she revealed Sunday Lane’s identity? I needed dirt on Katharine, and Gray knew the most about her, but I’d feel guilty using him. I’m not used to feeling remorse, but over the last few weeks Katharine had given me a crash course on the subject, and now my words were coming back to haunt me.

No, I refuse to use Gray. We were trying to start fresh. No more lies.

“No more lies, right, Gray?” I felt the words come out without thinking. His trust, along with his erroneously labeled micro-dick, was all I wanted. “No more lies between us.”

When he didn’t respond, I pulled the shower curtain an inch. Gray was sitting on the closed toilet seat with his elbows resting on his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

“Gray?”

His eyes flashed to mine, and he gave me a small smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear over the water.” He stood and grabbed a towel from the cupboard. “Here’s a towel when you’re ready. We can still go out if you want. Or I can make you something to eat.”

I reached out an arm, grabbing the towel, and turned off the water. Gray turned his head as I stepped out onto the mat.

“You don’t want to see me?” I said, feeling a little sting of rejection.

“I’m just trying to give you some space,” he responded, eyes shut tight. “I mean, trust me. I want to badly, but I don’t want to offend you.”

Another wave of disappointment hit me as I dried off my hair. Ambushing me in the bathroom wasn’t giving me space. “So you’re going to say something offensive?”

He shook his head, eyes still shut to tight slits. “No. God, you’re twisting my words again.” Gray finally turned his head toward me, and I let the towel drop to the ground. He scanned my wet body and drew in a long breath. “So we can eat or we can go to my bedroom. My choice is the latter, but you know.”

I picked up the towel and swatted him on the butt. “Well, it’s nice to know I have that effect even if I’m not a supermodel,” I teased, wrapping it around my body.

Gray’s eyes darkened listening to my words. “Sydney Porter, you are beautiful. You’re perfect. Stop fishing for compliments.”

Dropping my jaw dramatically, I pushed him back on the toilet seat. “Gray Peters.” I mocked his voice. “I was not fishing for compliments.” I straddled him, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. “But I will take constructive criticism. I mean, look at you. It pains me to say this, but you’re like a demigod strutting around campus. Of course I’m going to feel a little self-conscious.”

He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose. “My only advice to you is to always wear those baggy clothes and ugly hats.” I swatted him in the arm, and he smirked. “That way I’m the only one who knows there’s a sexy woman underneath. And don’t worry. Eventually, I’ll be done with football and have a beer gut like my dad. You’ll see.”

Was my head in the oven? Because my face was beginning to roast.

Gray was hinting of a future together.

“No, I won’t see.” I leaned closer to him and ran my mouth along his neck. “Because I’ll make sure you work out every night.” He grabbed my ass and squeezed, letting out a soft groan. “Maybe even double-drills, twice a day.”

Gray pulled his hands underneath my towel, swiping his fingers over my wet, swollen skin. Giving me an arrogant smile. “Double-drills twice a day, huh? By my calculation, we’re up for round two.”

“As long as you call me Coach Samuels,” I whispered as seductively as I could into his satellite dish ear. I could barely finish my sentence before I started laughing.

“Syyyyddnneeeey,” he growled, lifting me off his soaked sweats. A look of disgust swept over him, but it quickly ended in a sly grin. “Let’s go, Coach.”

“I call the wall side,” I yelled, running toward Gray’s bed. I liked to lie against the cool wall at night. As I made a mad dash past him, Gray grabbed me by the waist and tickled me until I screamed out for him to stop.

“You can have any side you want, Sinister.” He pulled off his clothes and flopped down next to me, pulling the covers over us.

It was a matter of seconds before I was underneath his body. This time it was different.

He made me feel delicate as he slowly moved inside me. Gray propped his elbows on either side of my head and focused on my eyes with every gentle pump. Smoothing my wet hair from my face, he laid kisses across my forehead and cheeks.

This wasn’t rushed. This was slow and loving. He was overwhelming me with intimate whispers into my ear.

He told me I was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. He told me my mouth was sweet and addicting. He told me he wanted me from the first day he’d met me, and it’d never stopped. My reaction was to groan underneath his body. Eventually, he lifted my hips, hitting me at just the right angle until I tumbled over the edge. Not long after, Gray let out a string of choppy, shallow breaths, and on the last one, his body relaxed over mine.

He stayed several seconds with his head against my chest, pressing his ear to my skin. My heart thumped so hard I expected his head to bounce up and down, but he wrapped his arms under my back and pressed his ear deeper against my skin.

“You should record your heart beat,” he whispered so low it felt like a voice in my head. “You could use it in one of your mixes. The sound is so rhythmic and intoxicating. I never want to move my head.”

Combing my fingers through his tangled hair, I couldn’t suppress my grin. This moment was perfect. I was used to okay, and I was used to just fine, but I wasn’t used to perfect. “I’ll think about it, but one day you’ll have to move your head because your massive noggin is crushing my lungs.”

He laughed and kissed my breasts before sliding over on his stomach next to me. Letting out a yawn, he wrapped his arms under his pillow and watched me as I stared up at the ceiling.

“You gonna come to my game Saturday?”

“I don’t know.” I would never have entertained the idea before, but that sentimental organ in my chest was pumping harder than ever, and it was all Gray’s fault. “Going to games seems very… official.”

“I know,” he said, smashing his excited little boy smile into his pillow. “But I want you there. Bring a friend.”

Flipping toward him, I smashed my excited little girl smile into my pillow. “I guess I might make an appearance, but I’d have to go alone. My friends aren’t really into football, except Allison maybe.”

Thinking about Allison made my stomach churn, and the smile fell from my face. My reckless words had hurt her. I could only assume she knew they were from me, Sunday Lane.

Gray pulled an arm from under his pillow and drew my body to his chest. “What’s wrong, Sydney?”

I marveled at his strong jaw and his tight chest. He was beautifully built, and it felt wonderful locked in his embrace, but even that couldn’t take away my guilt.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking about Allison. Jack was really upset.”

I closed my eyes, trying to formulate a plan, which was nearly impossible with two hundred pounds of hard muscle surrounding my body.

“Everything will be fine. I’ll talk to Katharine,” he said, lifting my bruised hand to kiss my knuckles. “I’ll set her straight.”

“No,” I snapped, a wave of fear crashing over me. “Don’t talk to Katharine. I’ll talk to her myself. This is girl stuff. You don’t need to concern yourself.”

He bunched his eyebrows together, listening to the urgency in my tone.

“You look like an old man when you scrunch up your face.” Lifting my hand, I smoothed his brows back down. “You know I can handle myself just fine, but I appreciate the offer.”

“I know, Sydney. I won’t say anything.” Slipping out of bed, he walked over to his desk and turned on his reading light. “Got your favorite,” he teased, pulling a can of Pringles from his desk drawer.

Sitting up, I wrapped the sheets around me and held out my arms. “Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

Gray threw the can, and I popped it open.

“This is sooo much better than that steak dinner you promised me.” I popped a triple stack into my mouth. “Wish you had gummy bears, though,” I mumbled through dry fragments of chips in my mouth. It was all very sexy. Trust me.

Gray hopped into bed and stole the can from my cheese-coated fingers. “Only the best for my girl, but I’m not made of money, gold digger. Gummy bears are for our second date.”

My chewing slowed to a halt, processing what he just said. My girl. Gray caught my stunned expression and shoved a chip in my open mouth. “That’s right, Sinister, my girl. Don’t worry. I call all my conquests my girl. Now chew.”

I smacked him playfully in the stomach, and as directed, I chewed, finally taking a good look around Gray’s room. This was the first time I’d been here without feeling like death had sucker-punched me with a massive hangover. Abstract artwork covered the walls, and my mind returned to freshman year.

“You draw those?” I asked, pointing to the wall opposite the bed.

“I wish,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “That’s Color Field artwork. You know, abstract expressionism. They were my grandpa’s old prints from the ‘50s. That one.” He turned and pointed to what looked like a target with a bull’s eye. It was simple and had varying swirls of black, white, red, and blue rings. “That’s a reprint of Kenneth Noland’s Beginning.”

“It’s beautiful. It looks like a patriotic vinyl record,” I said, and he laughed. “Beginning, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I chose Art History as my major. Well, actually, Grandpa was the main reason. When he retired, he became all artsy fartsy—but he said it was the best time of his life.”

I tried to contain my surprise, but I couldn’t help my wide eyes. “Art History?”

“Yeah,” he said as if I should already know this. And maybe I should have. He’d hinted at it freshman year. “I’d stay summers at Grandpa’s cabin and paint with him. He had that print in his room, and I’d stare at it for hours.” He regarded the picture with watery eyes, and I felt an uncomfortable tightness in my chest.

“Anyway, my usual medium is oil pastels. If you ever saw me on campus, you’d notice the smudges all over my fingers, but I guess we never cross paths.” He blinked a few times, and I pretended not to notice.

“Who knew Gray Peters was closet tortured artist?” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

His grandpa had obviously meant a lot to him, and I knew what it felt like to lose someone you love.

“Yeah, well, I’ll never make much money.” He grabbed a bottle of water off his nightstand and handed it to me. “But it’s what I love. I’m sure you know the feeling, DJ,” he joked, and I smiled, taking a sip. “And what’s life if you can’t do the things you love, or be with the ones…?” He stopped himself and cleared his throat, but he didn’t have to finish his sentence. His unspoken sentiment was pounding in my ears.

Run, Sydney, he’ll only crush you again. That was my first thought. But as he squeezed me tightly to his side, my defensive wall began to crumble to pieces, and I was surprised my first reaction wasn’t to grab brick and mortar and frantically rebuild. Instead, I welcomed the wrecking ball with open arms.