“There’s nothing I can do. It’s Varis’ decision.”
Tor pulls himself up to his full height. “Daniel Chase Owens. If you want my support to stay in school – and that includes contributing to your tuition – you will find a way back on that team. And there’s no point hiding out here until you do. Go home and put your damn brain to use. God knows you have one.” He walks out of the room.
My jaw clenches. I need to be in school, or I’m going someplace worse. Tor knows it as well as I do.
There’s no point arguing with him. Especially when he calls me by my whole fucking name.
I hate being bored. It makes me feel useless. I need something to keep me busy, or I start thinking too damned much.
When I get home I see an invite Spence left on the counter for a Greek party.
Sorority girls and kegstands are more his scene than mine. But what the hell. I know some people there.
When I arrive at the sorority house, the music’s bumping and the crowd is thick. The girls look hot. Despite my no randoms policy, I’d be tempted to take one home.
Except for my bad mood.
I make my way through the house, which is massive and seriously tricked out. Some SoCal band is blasting through the speaker, preaching the merits of life on the beach.
I never considered pledging, even though a few houses asked me to. I don’t have the constitution for it.
Among other things.
I’m on my way toward the kitchen when I see her.
At first I’m not sure it is her. Until she reaches up to touch her long, blond hair, tucking a piece behind her ear.
The careful move doesn’t match her outfit. She’s wearing a fire engine red dress that looks painted on and standing at the bottom of the staircase, next to the railing.
Someone moves out of the way between us and I get a good look for the first time.
Her legs are a mile long. And you can see almost all of them. She’s wearing these shoes that are probably made for two things: torturing the wearer and forcing a guy’s attention to her ass.
Which I suddenly wish I had a better view of.
Glancing around, I see at least three guys eye-fucking her, but she’s talking with Dave something or other, a guy I ran with two years ago. The quiet girl from Varis’ office just twenty-four hours ago is smiling up at him like it’s a goddamn debutante ball. As if someone else dressed her like every frat guy’s wet dream and she didn’t get the memo.
Dave leaves, smiling, probably to get her another drink. Her eyes track him across the room.
“Hey, princess.” The girl jumps when I come up behind her. “Is this your new idea for getting back on the team? Sleep your way back on? You might want to start with Coach Varis instead of Dave the Douche.”
Her suspicious eyes run over me. I know I look different in a button down and jeans instead of running clothes. Hell, I look different than I did a year ago when I’d last been on the team. Twenty pounds of extra muscle on a six-foot frame will do that to you.
“I’m not trying to sleep my way back on,” she responds. “It’s none of your business, but Dave’s not a douche. Some guys actually want relationships—”
“No.”
She blinks. “No what?”
“No, no guys actually want relationships. And you shouldn’t either. Not if you want to be the best. You want to win races? And I’m not talking neighborhood 5ks, I’m talking national championships.”
She stares back at me. Her eyes are blue. Not the color of the sky, or birds, but slate blue. Almost gray.
“Do you?” I demand.
“Yes.” She murmurs the word like all she really wants is for me to leave. And I’m not sure why I won’t, except that she so clearly wants me to.
“It isn’t just how fast you run. It’s what you let in your head.” I brace one hand on the staircase railing and lean into her, tapping my index and middle fingers of my other hand lightly on her temple.
Her breath catches and my body takes notice. The fact that she’s annoyingly naïve is suddenly less important than the fact that she’s half-dressed and within easy reach. Biology’s predictable that way.
“Close your eyes.”
She frowns, then looks around us. “Why?”
“Do it.” I wait for her to say no. To tell me to go to hell.
Instead she complies, but her hand tightens on her Solo cup.
Interesting.
It’s false bravado, but it makes me wonder what else is going on under that quiet exterior.
“See, princess,” I murmur, taking advantage of the fact she can’t see me to step closer. “There’s a difference between feelings and skin. This? It’s just skin.” I run my knuckles down her arm, feeling where each one connects with her, and shit, she’s softer than I expected.
Her eyes fly open. Startled.
“Come on,” I goad. “You’re old enough to be at this party, you’re old enough to do this. So trust yourself.”
She’s fighting with herself. Finally those thick, dark lashes lower again. I allow myself a moment to look at her face, wondering what she was planning on doing with Dave. Were they going to exchange numbers? Kiss in the corner? Or is the good girl thing all an act, and was she biding her time until they snuck off to somewhere she’d be sweating and moaning under him?
Without knowing what I’m doing, I bend my mouth to her ear. Just breathe near her. I can smell her, strawberries.
I trace a finger around the shell of her ear. I’ve never really looked at an ear before, and I wonder vaguely if they’re all as perfect as hers.
The sensation shoots up my arm as my finger reaches her cheek, trailing down to her jaw. Slower, because this is going to be over too quick.
Now she’s shaking as my finger grazes her chin. Her eyebrows are drawn together like she’s fighting it but she’s not afraid. Or if she is, it’s not of me.
Her sweet pink lips part and a spike of heat shoots straight down my spine to my dick.
I can’t help myself. I’m not on the program anymore. We’re in a roomful of people but I don’t see any of them.
“I know you feel it,” I murmur, my lips grazing her ear. I have to resist the temptation to suck on it. That perfect diamond, probably real, dotting her lobe. Just to see what she’d do. “Don’t be ashamed. You’re human. But no matter how good it feels, how personal…” I pull back, let my thumb brush her plump lower lip. I imagine that mouth wrapped around my cock and realize I’m hard. “…In the end, it’s just skin.”
The party’s all around us, deafening laughter and flirting, but it’s melted away.
When she opens her eyes her pupils are big and round. Her cheeks are flushed and I swear I can feel her heart hammering in her chest.
We’re inches apart and I can read those eyes like a book. They’re saying this feels intimate.
And fuck me, because even though this is supposed to be a lesson, I’m feeling it too.
“So you’re saying to be the best you have to be a monk.” Her throat’s scratchy and it gives me an ounce of satisfaction.
“No. I’m saying you’ve gotta keep down the burn in your gut so it doesn’t interfere.”
The kicker is, I can picture blowing off steam with her. Pressing her up against a wall at the foot of the stairs I can see out of the corner of my eye. Grabbing her hip possessively, my mouth claiming her neck, her shoulders, pushing down her shirt. Pressing my hips into her, those slate eyes drifting closed in pleasure. When I picture it, she’s not indifferent. Instead she’s begging me with that sweet mouth, because she wants me to do everything with her.
I mentally shake my head to clear it. I don’t even know this girl, and Ash is at least this hot.
But she doesn’t look at me like this.
With Ash it’s knowing. Expecting.
With this girl? She’s wary, aware. Uncertain. Like every part of her’s totally focused on me because she doesn’t know what I’ll do next. How she’ll feel next.
/> “Do you take signups?” she breathes, her pulse hammering in her throat.
Fuck. I’m half ready to drag her upstairs and find a bathroom where I can press her up against the sink and see if this chemistry holds when she adds, “My roommate has a serious crush on you.”
Her roommate, huh?
I play along. “I don’t know about your roommate. I’m afraid it’s a bit more exclusive than that. But maybe you should try it sometime.” Unable to resist the urge, I wrap my hand around her waist and jerk her toward me. She puts her hands out, surprised, and they land on my shoulders.
I drop my mouth to hers. Quick, hard. Her lips part in surprise and for a second, five, I tease her with my tongue. A startled little noise escapes. Her body, too shocked to resist, molds to mine as I pull her hips against me.
How did I not think she was hot?
Finally, she shoves me back. There’s fire in her eyes, but something else too. “It may be hard to believe, but some girls don’t want your skin or any other part of you.”
Then she’s gone, in a flash of red and miles of leg and heels that should be illegal.
Get Chased on Amazon, free with Kindle Unlimited!
Stripped (Travesty Book 2) Page 26
