Ritual: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 5)

by Kandi Steiner

  And I have no idea what’s going on with him.

  “Yeah, up your ass and probably a few other girls’, too,” I shoot back at Grayson, arching a brow.

  He throws his hands up over his heart like he’s been struck. “Ouch. Okay, I deserved that.”

  “You deserve a whole hell of a lot more than a jab for what you did.” I shake my head, crossing my legs as my eyes scan the sidewalks for Adam. “You’re just lucky I’m too nice to hand out punishment.”

  “I lost you.”

  I blink, turning back to him and finding sincerity laced in his gray eyes.

  “Trust me,” he whispers. “That was the worst punishment of all.”

  I swallow, something low and familiar hitting me deep in my belly at the sight of his pain. For so long, that boy had been everything to me. I’d loved him. I’d touched him and let him touch me, too.

  God, is it awful that I’ve sort of missed him?

  It’s not that I want to be with him — not at all. Adam is everything I’ve wanted since I first stepped foot on this campus, even if we did have to take the long way around to finally be together.

  But I miss talking to Grayson, miss listening to him play, miss the connection we’ve always had so effortlessly.

  And I hate losing people.

  It’s the worst feeling in the world, in my opinion. I’d felt it the hardest when I’d lost my childhood best friend, Paris, after she’d betrayed me my freshman year. And it’d reverberated through me when I’d walked away from Grayson in that courtyard, knowing I’d never forgive him, that what we’d had was lost.

  But now here we are, trying to be friends when it all seemed so impossible even a short month ago.

  Something about that fills me with hope.

  My gut drops again at the more pressing matter on my conscience — which is that I know when I tell Adam that Grayson and I are rekindling a friendship, he will be less than thrilled. And if there’s one scar I don’t want to reopen, it’s the one that’s still fresh from watching Grayson and Adam at each other’s throats for an entire semester.

  Last time the roles had been reversed.

  But I have a feeling it won’t matter to Adam that he’s the one who has me now.

  He still won’t want to share.

  I wanted to tell him after the first day of class, when I realized Grayson was in the same one. But at the time, there was really nothing to tell. We went to a small campus. It wasn’t that weird that I ended up in the same class with my ex.

  But once we started talking, once he apologized and asked me if we could try to be friends, I knew I needed to tell Adam — and I planned to.

  Except he’s been so distant.

  First, it was the concert, and I didn’t want to upset him when he already had so much to focus on. He had been stressed out that night, and it seemed like he’d been that way ever since. We haven’t hung out much, and when we have, he’s always on his phone, talking to Jeremy about fraternity stuff or working on his outline for Alpha Sigma Chapter or planning his next big thing — the Halloween bash.

  But distractions or not, I have to tell him, and soon — which is why I’m not hiding the fact that I’m sitting with Grayson now as I wait for Adam to come by and meet me for lunch, like he used to do every day after this class.

  When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I don’t have to check it to know it’s him saying he won’t make it.

  He’s had some sort of excuse like that for the past couple of weeks, ever since his concert.

  I sigh, pulling my phone from my pocket long enough to tell him it’s okay and we’ll catch up later, but my chest is tight as I do so. Jeremy had let it slip to me that night of the concert that some of the brothers had been giving Adam a hard time about spending so much time with me and not dedicating enough time to the fraternity, and ever since then, he’s pulled back, focusing more on them and less on me.

  Which is fine, I remind myself, because we’re together all the time.

  I can spare him and let him do his thing as president.

  But I can’t help but feel like there’s something else going on, something he won’t tell me…

  “You okay?” Grayson asks, nodding toward my death grip on my phone with the open text message still glaring back at me.

  I shake my head, finishing my text and shooting it back to Adam before I tuck my phone away again. “I’m fine.”

  “Mm. Fine. That’s lady talk for nothing is okay and I’m two seconds away from burning this whole motherfucking campus down.”

  I roll my eyes, but a soft smile finds my lips. “I really am fine.”

  “Didn’t you say you’re waiting on Adam?” he asks casually, picking up his guitar again. “What time is he coming by?”

  “He’s not,” I say, checking my bitter tone as soon as I realize the way I said it. “Uh… he has a fraternity thing I forgot about. Got my days mixed up.”

  Grayson holds his guitar in his lap, balancing his arms on the top of it and watching me carefully. “Everything okay with you two?”

  At that, I chuckle, pulling the strap of my backpack onto one shoulder and standing. “Not happening, Grayson.”

  “What?” he asks, feigning innocence.

  “I know we’re trying to be friends again, but you’ll never be the one I lean on when there’s something going on between me and Adam.”

  “So there is something.”

  I swallow, heart ticking up a notch at the realization that I let that slip.

  “I’ll see you Thursday at lab,” I say instead of acknowledging his assessment, and I can tell in his eyes that he doesn’t want me to go, that he wants to know more about everything I’m not saying, but I turn my back on him and start the walk toward the sorority house without another word.

  When I get back to my room, Ashlei, Jess, and Skyler are piled in a fluff of blankets in the middle of the floor, their laptops in front of them. They all smile when I walk in, and Skyler scoots over, patting the space next to her.

  “Grab your laptop and take a seat, Little,” she says with waggling eyebrows. “It’s time to plan our Halloween costumes.”

  Then, Jess hands me a flyer — one confirming what my own boyfriend hadn’t even told me yet.

  Alpha Sigma is hosting another Halloween party on the sandbar, and with a live DJ, fireworks show, and open bar sponsored by one of the local clubs, the neon orange flyer promises it will be even bigger and better than last year.

  I somehow manage a smile despite the rollercoaster dip of my stomach, and I pull my laptop from my bag, plopping down next to my Big to surf costume ideas as she hands me the open bag of Doritos, taking one before she passes it.

  But before I pull up Pinterest, I text Adam.

  We need to talk.

  THERE IS NO BETTER feeling than having Kade’s face buried between my thighs.

  My hands are tangled in his hair, grabbing and pulling as I arch off his bed and grind my pelvis against his mouth. He already had a solid foundation in going down, but thanks to my expert teaching, he now knows just how to suck my clit, just how to curl his fingers inside me and make me writhe with aching need.

  I finally understand that old saying now.

  Hard work pays off.

  When he releases the pressure, withdrawing his finger and rubbing the seam of my lips while he kisses inside my knee, I peer up at him through heavy lids, my lips parted, chest heaving.

  “No,” I whine, trying to drag his head back down. “Don’t stop.”

  Kade smirks, balancing on his elbow with his face still fully between my thighs. Only now, he’s stroking me between my wet and swollen lips, his fingertips skating over my clit before they dive back down again.

  And all the while, he’s sitting there with his stupid smirk, watching the show.

  “Someone’s close,” he muses.

  Something between a curse and a moan rips through me when he flattens his palm, rubbing it over the length of me with just enough pressure to have
my whole body tensing and releasing at once, making me shiver and shake at the touch. I’m so wet from his mouth and my own desire that his hot skin slicks over me easily, and the more he rubs me, the more I feel that pressure mounting in my core.

  Until he stops.

  My eyes shoot open at the loss of heat, of connection, the cool air from his ceiling fan wafting over me uncomfortably.

  “Damn it, Kade,” I say, but before I can even lift my head to properly curse at him, his mouth is on mine, still covered with my salty taste as he backs me into the bed even more somehow.

  His hand rests tentatively over me again, cupping me in warmth, and I gasp into his mouth at the sensation.

  “If you want to get off,” he whispers, sucking my lip between his teeth and holding it there before releasing it with a pop. “You’ll have to get there yourself.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Fuck you,” I spit, but then his hand cups me harder, and he moves it just an inch — up and back down — his deep brown eyes firing to life as he watches my eyelids flutter with the touch.

  “Fuck my hand, Jess,” he whispers, kissing my neck seductively, sucking my earlobe between his teeth. His next whisper is right into the shell of my ear, and it evokes a tsunami of chills over me. “I want you to fuck my hand until you come all over it, and then I can lick my fingers clean.”

  My mouth parts with a gasp, and in the next second his own covers mine, and he’s kissing me hard and demanding, his hand just sitting there between my legs, warm and waiting.

  I reach down with my own hands, holding his to me harder, and flex my hips.

  Just that one motion has me sucking in a hot, stiff breath, and Kade devours it hungrily, kissing me harder as I buck my hips again.

  His hand is so warm, so wet, and I hold it firm between my legs, rocking my hips back and forth, humping his palm as my clit fires to life. I know before a full minute has passed that I could get off just like that, without him even being inside me, but when I’m humping him hard and fast and he surprises me, slipping his middle finger deep and quick inside me before pulling out again, I groan at the feeling of being full.

  “More,” I pant, writhing under his touch. “I want you to fuck me, Kade.”

  “Not until you come.”

  I whimper, but it’s silenced as soon as he dives back inside me again — this time with two fingers slipping easily into my soaked hole.

  “Jesus Christ,” I curse, and then without warning, I flip him over with his hand still cupping me, until the back of his palm is laying on his thick, muscular thigh and I’m straddling his fingers — all the while staring longingly at his thick, perfect, untouched erection.

  Just the sight of it standing at attention pulses a new wave of need through me, and Kade’s eyes intensify, urging me on. I sit back down on his fingers, feeling them deeper now, and he curls them inside me as I ride his hand the way I want to ride his cock.

  The heat from his thighs press into every angle of my inner thighs, his palm hot on my clit, and I lean forward, getting more pressure where I need it and still fucking his fingers. And then everything clinches and releases, hot and fast, a lightning bolt of an orgasm striking me as I cry out.

  Kade’s hand slaps hard over my mouth, so much that it stings, but I cry into his left palm as I ride his right one, knowing he’s just trying to save me from alerting the entire fraternity that he’s getting me off.

  Not that I care right now.

  When my body slows, muscles already sore and aching, he removes his palm from my mouth with a knowing grin on his.

  But before I can slump and let my climax lull me under, he sits up, kissing me hard and grabbing my ass firmly in both hands before he smacks it hard and flips me over.

  I don’t get another breath before he’s wrapped in a condom and thrusting inside me — deep and urgent, every thick and pulsing inch filling me in quick, swift thrusts.

  Damn, he’s a good student.

  This motherfucker was helpless just a few months ago, and now he’s a sex god — one perfectly tailored to meet my kinky needs.

  Maybe this deal wasn’t a bad idea, after all.

  Kade wraps both fists in my long hair and yanks hard, exposing my throat and cutting off my oxygen enough that I can’t even cry out in approval. I’m so fucking turned on I could come again, but I don’t have the chance before he pounds his climax into me, pulsing into the condom with subdued groans and his hands still in my hair.

  He slows to a complete stop when he’s done, releasing my hair, but then his hands pet down my back — slowly, softly, making goosebumps explode over my sensitive skin. He’s still inside me, thrusting slowly and purposefully, and already I feel him softening, but he won’t stop. Instead, he bends over me, pulling my back flush to his chest as he thrusts as deep inside me as he can with his erection quickly losing steam.

  His mouth finds my ear, sucking the lobe, and then he grabs my chin and tilts it until he can claim my mouth.

  I hate this kiss.

  It’s too intimate, too soon after making me come, too close to real feelings that I break it quickly and roll over on to my back, chuckling with a satisfied sigh and closing my eyes.

  Kade drops down beside me, still panting, one hand resting on his chest and the other reaching over to rest on my knee.

  “Jess?”

  “Mm?” I ask, brushing my hair back from my face.

  When I creak my eyelids open, he’s there balanced above me, something unreadable in his dark eyes.

  “I think you’re hotter than I’ve ever fucking seen you right now.”

  His eyes sweep over me, and a blush shades my cheeks as I cover my face with my hands. It’s seven o’clock in the morning and I haven’t even brushed my hair, let alone put on a stitch of makeup. I was just horny when I woke up and couldn’t wait.

  Usually, I dress up in lingerie for this prick — mostly because I like to boss him around in the bed and make him feel like I’m his Dom.

  But this morning, he took control.

  And now, he’s got my stomach riding on the wings of butterflies with his stupid, too-nice-for-a-fuck-buddy comment.

  I shove him away playfully with a roll of my eyes. “Whatever.”

  Kade laughs, tucking his hands under his head with his gaze on the ceiling. “You should have seen your face, getting all goopy-eyed over that romantic comment.”

  “You wish.”

  “Deny it all you want, J-Love,” he teases, glancing at me with an arched brow. “But you know damn well that was an A+ move.”

  I don’t deny it, but I definitely don’t confirm it, either. Kade waits for a moment before giving up with a chuckle, rolling over and grabbing his phone off his nightstand.

  “I feel like a Skywalker, conquering the Force.”

  I snort, but Kade just sits there with that doofus smile, flipping through his texts.

  “Might have to pull out all the tricks I’ve learned on some unsuspecting hottie at the Halloween party next week.”

  My stomach takes a deep dive off the bed, and my eyes shoot open, throat constricting. I attempt a swallow but come up empty, and then I’m pissed at my body for betraying me, for being affected by what he said when clearly we shouldn’t be.

  I can almost see it — my brain putting her hands on her hips, glaring at my body like Bitch, what the hell is wrong with you?

  But even as I sit there and convince myself I shouldn’t feel the way I do after Kade’s little comment, the feeling only sinks in deeper, and I press a hand to my chest, forcing a swallow.

  Wait — am I annoyed?

  Am I… jealous?

  I frown at the thought, because why the hell would I be jealous that Kade wants to hook up with some chick at the Halloween party next weekend? It’s not like we’re dating. It’s not like we’re even close to that. We had a deal — I teach him how to have some fucking game, and he gets me off and lets me drive his car.

  Plain and simple.

  Except when I turn an
d see his goofy smile on his face, and another girl’s name on his phone screen, my chest tightens, body betraying me once more.

  Maybe it’s not so simple, after all.

  SITTING IN MR. AND Mrs. Harrison’s backyard in Franklin Park, it’s all I can do to keep my mouth shut and drink my beer while everyone else around me talks and laughs like everything is just peachy keen.

  It’s a perfect fall day, the bright blue sky virtually cloudless and letting the sun warm us where we sit around the small bonfire Mac’s dad built. It’s just cool enough to need the fire, and a light sweater, but not so cold that we need to bundle up or that we can’t be outside enjoying the evening. I can’t help but compare it to the hot and humid October day I left behind in South Florida when I got on the plane that took me back home just a couple days go, and perhaps what guts me is I don’t know which one feels like home.

  Honestly, neither really does anymore.

  I’ve spent the weekend with my little brother, watching him dominate at his home football game Friday night, and then eating our way around Pittsburgh all day yesterday. It was the closest I’ve felt to myself since the day Erin told me about our unborn child, but I woke this morning with the same numbness, the same dread swimming in my stomach.

  Because we were going to see our mother for the first time in two years.

  I’d reached out to her after Mac told me she was online again, and she asked to see us both. She wanted to explain, wanted to spend time with us, show us how much she’d changed. And while everything inside me wanted to scream at her to go fuck herself all the way off, I knew what my little brother wanted more than anything in the world was a relationship with at least one of his parents.

  And since our dad was a piece of shit who took off shortly after Mac was born, this was the only option.

  It’s a full house, with Mac and his sister, Kia, their parents, my little brother, me, and — the guest of the day — my mother.

  Christine Pennington looks better than I’ve ever seen her look. Her normally ashen skin is golden brown and healthy, her big brown eyes wide and full of life, her smile no longer the dead one that I’d become accustomed to growing up, but rather one that glows and fills her entire face. She looks nothing like the profile picture on her new Facebook account — the one she’d contacted both me and Clayton on. That woman was skinny and drugged out and sad. The one sitting across the fire from me with a glass of water is healthy and sober and happy.