by Franca Storm
“Maybe,” he says to me, but winks at Nicki.
She smiles shyly back at him.
Argh!
He lays his hand gently on her shoulder. Very gently and very unlike him. I hear him say softly, “I’m sorry I came on too strong last night. I had too much to drink. It won’t happen again, babe.”
She’s not your babe!
“It’s…don’t worry about it…I was a little drunk too.”
He pulls out his cell and asks, “What’s your number?”
Her eyes widen. “Uh…what…why?”
He laughs. “So I can call you, of course.”
“I…I don’t…date….”
“Who said anything about a date? I’ll call you and we can go out. Just two friends having coffee, dinner, or whatever you feel like. No pressure. How does that sound?”
“Uh…okay. Sure.”
I hear her give him her number. Her real number.
“Just friends…” Axel assures her. He pauses to glare at me. A triumphant smirk plays across his face as he adds, “…just like you and John.”
Son of a bitch! I was right to begin with. He is going after her to get at me; to stick it to me with this frat vs. me rivalry that’s been going on for the last two years. Fuck!
The only thing stopping me from lunging at him is Nicki between us. I don’t want her to get hurt in the crossfire. Before I can even respond, Professor Hill enters the room and the auditorium falls quiet as she begins:
“Right, let’s pick up where we left off last class. The important factors in Mussolini’s rise to power in 1922….”
“You okay?” Nicki leans in and whispers in my ear.
“Fine,” I mutter as I dig my fingers into my seat in an effort to rein in my temper. “Fine, sweetheart,” I say, forcing a smile.
She doesn’t look convinced, but she looks away and turns her attention to her notepad as Professor Hill’s lesson gets underway. She starts jotting down notes—her pen sliding across the page so damn quickly as she becomes absorbed in the lesson. Always the flawless student. I, on the other hand, don’t hear another word. I’m too concerned with watching Axel like a hawk, making sure he doesn’t touch her; listening to every word he whispers to her. Everything he says is about the class though. Odd. He’s an even crappier student than me. I know he’s just doing this for Nicki’s benefit. This is a play to him. He’s messing with her. And that means he’s messing with me. But there’s nothing I can do right now. We’re in class. And Nicki’s between us.
Well played, asshole. Well played.
You better watch your back though, cuz I’ll be watching you.
Chapter 5
~John~
“Where the fuck is she?” I thunder as I switch off the microphone.
Mitch, Chloe and I have just run through two songs without Nicki. I’ve been singing and playing lead guitar cuz she’s late. She’s never late. She didn’t even bother to text me to say she wasn’t gonna make it on time. Apparently, she’s been texting Chloe though—every couple of minutes for the past half hour. That just pisses me off even more.
“She’ll be here in five minutes. They’re just pulling up outside,” Chloe tells me.
“They?” I snap.
“Her and Axel,” Chloe responds excitedly.
“What?” I fume. I catch Mitch’s eye and he smirks at me. He has the wrong idea cuz of the other night. “Fine,” I force myself to say casually, wanting to shut down his suspicions right away. I slide my guitar onto its stand. “Let’s take a break then.”
The room we’re in used to be a dining room when Mitch and I first moved in. We’ve made it into our practice room. It’s soundproof now which avoids us having to deal with pissed off neighbors complaining about the noise. Noise, my ass. Awesome music is more like it. We dealt with so many complaints in the dorms last year, so this is a refreshing change.
“Cool. I’ll get some pizza. Mitch, help me?” Chloe says.
“You too much of a princess to carry a damn pizza box yourself, Chlo?” he teases.
“Vegetarian it is, then,” she threatens as she opens the door and walks out.
“Wait! Fine, I’ll go with you!” he calls, hurrying after her.
The two of them leave and I look over the music of an unfinished song that Nicki and I were supposed to work on today. I’m so involved in what I’m reading and trying to figure out how to complete the lyric that I don’t even notice Nicki walking into the room until she says, “Hey.”
I look up and snap, “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”
“Where were you?”
“Down by the harbor front.”
“With him?”
“Yeah. Just hanging out.”
“I see.” It comes out extremely bitter and harsh. So much for playing it cool. Shit.
“What’s your problem?”
I drop the sheet music and storm over to where she’s leaning against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. “My problem is that you’re late. Between classes and your time at the gym, every second the band can get together is precious. And you just blow it off for some asshole.”
“Blow it off? I’m ten minutes late at the most, John.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, brushing past her.
She grips my arm, stopping me and forcing me to turn back to her. “This is about me and Axel, isn’t it? Funny, considering all the girls I see coming out of here. And last night was no exception. You stank of Chanel perfume when you came over. But I never said anything, because that’s your business. For some reason, you can’t extend me the same courtesy. Why?”
I scoff. “This isn’t about your boyfriend. This is about the band, Nicki.” Like fuck it is. But it’s my only defense here; she knows me too well.
She laughs. “Boyfriend? Not even close, John.”
“He’s trying to get into your pants, Nicki,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“Maybe he is. But he won’t.”
“He’s gonna seduce you and before you know it, you’ll be spreading your legs for him like the dirty little girl he wants you to be.”
She winces at my words. “Shut up.”
Of course. I knew she wouldn’t be able to handle that. “You deserve better. He’s not what you need.”
“And you know what I need?” she demands harshly.
I just react and before I realize what I’m doing, I grip her arms and push her against the wall as I tell her, “You need a guy who will take his time with you. Someone you can actually kiss sober. A guy who knows you and understands he needs to build you up slowly so you forget the past—your fears and anxieties—and let go until all you can do is feel. Feel his hands, his mouth, and his tongue exploring every part of you. A guy who takes you right to the edge and back.” My fingers brush the hickey on her neck. “A guy who knows you’re not ready for rough…” I touch her lips gently, “…who doesn’t bruise these beautiful lips with a harsh kiss, but slows down to revel in the taste of you, the way you move against him, the little moans you’ll make in his ear as he pleases you.”
My heart is thundering so violently in my chest that I’m sure she can hear it. I release her arms and notice that my hands are shaking. The realization of what I just said to her scares the shit out of me.
I take a step back. “Nicki, I’m sorry. I—”
But then her lips are on mine. I’m so shocked that I don’t do a damned thing. I just stand there like a fucking limp dick moron. She misreads my reaction and moves away, blushing from embarrassment.
“Uh,” she breathes. “Sorry.”
She makes a move to the door, but I cut her off. Standing in front of her, I stare at her. She’s fiddling nervously with her hair, not knowing what to do, where to look. I take a deep breath and then I do the very thing I’ve resisted for the last four years.
I cup her face and press my lips to hers.
I kiss her softly, slowly and she makes the sweetest sound
I’ve ever heard. I feel her kiss me back as my hands slip under her shirt and slide up her back. I reach her bra clasp and the animal in me—or the guy in me—wants desperately to unclasp it, to feel her perky little tits in my hands, in my mouth. But I stop myself. This is Nicki, not some random chick.
I ease her back against the wall. I pull back and slide my tongue along her jaw line, down her neck, her collarbone, to the tops of her tits. She makes a sexy purring sound. And then her fingers are in my hair, tugging, urging my mouth back to hers. Her lips part, granting me access. My tongue plunges into her mouth.
As soon as I taste her, I lose control, ravaging her mouth, claiming every part of her. My fingers dig into her hips, jerking her tightly to me as I roll my hips, grinding my hard dick against her. She whimpers into my mouth and claws at my neck.
And then she suddenly pushes me back.
Before I can figure out what and why, the apartment door flies open and Chloe and Mitch stride on in arguing loudly, as they carry three pizza boxes to the kitchen.
“I heard their voices in the hall,” Nicki tells me.
“Oh.” So that’s why she pushed me away.
“Guys! You coming or what?” Mitch calls from the kitchen.
Nicki starts for the kitchen but I grab her arm and pull her into me. I whisper in her ear, “You taste so good.”
She trembles at my words and can’t look at me. I release her, smiling with amusement, and watch as she hurries into the kitchen. Damn, that ass of hers looks amazing in those jeans. Hell, it looks amazing no matter what.
I take a moment to calm down and adjust the hard-on straining against my jeans. And then I make my way into the kitchen. The three of them are already devouring the pizza in the open boxes on the table. I grab a slice of pepperoni and lean back against the kitchen counter, my eyes fixed on Nicki and that mouth of hers.
She catches my eye. I give her a sly wink and she looks away shyly. So damn cute.
As the three of them start chatting away, I munch on my pizza and pull out my phone from my pocket and text Nicki: Pour Some Sugar On Me–Def Leppard.
A second later I hear her phone chime. She pulls it out of her pocket and reads my text. Her gaze snaps to mine, her eyes wide. I cock an eyebrow in a challenge.
But before she can text me back, Mitch asks, “Sexting with Axel, Nicki?”
I cringe at his words. If that isn’t a mood killer, I don’t know what is.
Nicki avoids my gaze as she answers, “I barely know him. What do you take me for?”
Chloe laughs and tells her, “That’s what dates are for—getting to know the guy.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“What happened on this not-a-date? What did you guys do?” Chloe presses.
“We just walked down by the harbor front. Ate ice-cream. Talked.”
“Sounds like a date to me,” Mitch says.
Before I can stop myself I discreetly kick his chair. He almost chokes on his pizza and then flashes me a look of what the fuck? I just continue to glare at him and he gets the message. He clears his throat and says, “Nah, it wasn’t a date.”
“What? You just agreed that it was,” Chloe questions, eyeing him over her slice of pizza.
“Axel doesn’t do dates. He’s a caveman. He hits on a girl, throws her over his shoulder and carries her up to his bedroom to fuck her.”
Nice.
“You’re wrong. A couple of the girls in my sorority have dated him. And I mean an actual date. Dinner and a movie and everything.”
“And then some fucking,” Mitch says.
Chloe blows out a breath. “You’re such a dick.” She shoots me a look. “Both of you. You’re no better. Cavemen to the core. Every time I’m here in the morning, there’s some poor girl doing the walk of shame from your rooms.”
Nicki bursts out laughing. At us. At me. I know in that moment that she believes Chloe’s claim that Mitch and I are cavemen. And it really, really bothers me.
Dammit, I don’t want Nicki to assume I’m gonna be like that with her. But there’s nothing I can say right now while Mitch and Chloe are here.
“Five minutes and we get back down to it,” I say, before storming out of the room like a kid throwing a temper tantrum. Dammit, Chloe!
Chapter 6
~Nicki~
This last week has been so busy with back-to-back classes and assignments. Why did I take so many classes this semester? Right, to graduate as quickly as possible. I’ve had Chloe and Mitch on my back about practice. But John, to his credit, has left me alone. He knows what I get like with school when I’m feeling the pressure. I hunker down and basically go into hibernation in my apartment, doing nothing but studying my ass off and working on assignments, eating junk food in my sweats. The worst of it’s over now and I have a break for the weekend. Usually we’ll communicate via text, but this time I haven’t heard a thing from him. A week is an extraordinary long time for us to go without talking.
It’s because of the infamous kiss.
But is it him who’s avoiding me, or the other way around? Sure, he hasn’t communicated with me, but I haven’t communicated with him either. It’s like we’re caught in some sort of awkward stalemate. I don’t know what to do about it. This kind of thing has never happened between us before. He’s never touched me like that. I can’t deny that I’ve thought about it before, but I’ve always reprimanded myself immediately. John likes experienced women. And I’m…not.
He thinks I’m such a fragile little girl. It’s because of the past—that night when he saw me on the floor, bleeding and sobbing like that. Stop! Never think about it! I force myself not to. Sometimes I get disturbing flashes. It always happens after I let a guy touch me. It had with Axel. And then the nightmares had come. And, as usual, John was there with me, helping me through it. He’s the only one who can; the only guy who makes me feel safe. It’s because he was there that night. He saved me.
But I’m not weak like he thinks I am. I can take rejection. I’m not some damsel in distress. He thinks I don’t see the looks he gives any guy who comes near me? I see every one of them. And, damn, that day in the lecture hall when Axel had sat beside me and asked me out, I’d thought John was gonna lunge across the seats and throttle him right there in the middle of class.
Axel’s been nice enough to me. I haven’t heard anything since our not-a-date over a week ago. Honestly, I hadn’t really noticed until today. I’d been so busy. And whenever I’d stopped for a moment, the only thing that’d been on my mind was John. Pathetic, I know. But I just can’t get the memory of that kiss out of my head. His lips. The gentle way he’d kissed me. The way he’d touched me. God, I’ve never felt anything like it. It was like he was setting my skin on fire.
That’s it. I have to know what he’s thinking. So, either we can move forward with whatever this new development is between us, or we can go back to normal and forget the whole thing.
Yeah, I’m gonna do this. We’re gonna figure this out tonight.
But first, I need to shower and sort myself out. I look like shit.
***
I snatch my phone off the bedside table and text John: Alone—Heart. I glance down at the crimson silky chemise that I’m wearing. It was a birthday present given to me over a year ago by Chloe. It was her silent way of saying that I need to get out there and get laid. Of course, that didn’t happen. But when I’d opened it in front of the band, not knowing what was inside the gift wrap at the time, I’d seen that look in John’s eyes immediately. That primal look he gets when he’s about to pounce on some girl he’s been seducing all night long at a party or something. So, I know he likes it.
As I lay back on the bed, propping the pillows up behind me so that I’m half lying, half sitting, I suddenly feel insanely nervous. Shit. I cross my legs, feeling uncomfortable not wearing any underwear beneath the skimpy slip of a nightdress. I try to strike what I think is a sexy pose, but everything feels so awkward. I’ve seen women do it in the movies—h
ow do they pull it off so easily?
I can’t do this.
I slide off the bed, intending to make my way into the bathroom to grab my bathrobe when the door opens. Oh no! Too late!
“Got your text. So, you’ve got me alone. So, what’s—oh shit!” John’s voice comes from the door.
I cringe. Shit. “Hi,” I squeak over my shoulder.
He shuts the door behind him and chuckles. “Are you gonna turn around or talk to me with your back to me all night?”
“I…uh…I need my robe.”
“No,” he says huskily.
I force myself to turn around. The moment I do, his eyes dart to mine suddenly. I grin inwardly, knowing that they were staring at my ass just a second earlier. I can see the coiled tension in his body, the stiff set of his jaw and I know he’s struggling to keep his gaze on my eyes and not elsewhere. If I was any other girl, he wouldn’t bother. It makes me feel bad, like I’m teasing him or something.
“You can look,” I tell him.
But he still doesn’t. In fact, he slaps his hand over his eyes. “Shit, Nicki. I…uh…why are you wearing…that?”
“Can you remove your hand and look at me?”
He shakes his head.
“Fine.” I take a deep breath and perch on the edge of the bed. “Nothing happened after our kiss the other day. No nightmares. Nothing.”
“Really?” he asks, intrigued.
“Yeah.”
“And?” he presses.
“I don’t know if it was a mistake to you, or what. If you’ve been avoiding me, or whether I’ve subconsciously been avoiding you or something. I wanted to clear it up tonight.”
“There’s something else,” he accuses.
Dammit, he knows me too well. “I…uh…will you…touch me?”
His hand falls away and his gaze snaps to mine. “What?”
I climb onto the bed and ease myself back against the pillows, hoping I don’t actually look as awkward as I feel.
He shakes his head. “Nicki…”
