by Lana Hartley
“Thanks.” He gives me a wink and then presses his lips to mine so I can taste my own sweet nectar.
By then, Dylan and Simon arrive again, prepared with the things we would need in order to conduct the experiments.
King and I exchange a private knowing glance.
Oh yeah, in case you were wondering, the reason why we had that alone time is because Simon and Dylan left briefly to gather materials.
Now the next step is to put everything in place, and I can’t wait for the journey.
Simon
Krista likes spending the night with me at my place in the city with the other two guys. We think it’s better to stick together now that we’ve become closer, and to make sure nothing happens to Krista during our research progress.
One might say that we’re her bodyguards of sorts, and honestly, I’m thrilled to take that title and role. Krista means more to me than I expected, and I think Dylan and King are beginning to feel the same way, too. I can see it in their eyes—the lust and the lovestruck way they look at her— because I know I’m doing the same fucking thing.
I’m the first to wake and rise on this sunny morning before work. Climbing out of the bed and sneaking out of the room, I creep towards the kitchen because I don’t want to wake everyone else up yet. Sure, I love their company, but there’s something special and magical about the early dawn that I love spending it in tranquil solitude.
So, here I am, making myself a fresh pot of coffee, when I spot the notification button blinking on my cell phone. It’s rather early to have a message, but I check it anyway because I’m curious.
I have three missed calls, and four text messages.
Now, my heart races in panic because I think something terrible must have happened to receive that many messages overnight.
I glance towards the bedroom where the door is still closed. Nobody seems to be stirring yet, so I can figure out what’s happening in private.
Unlocking my phone, I look at the first message and let out a disastrous cry. If the other three weren’t awake before my wail, they certainly will rouse now.
Panic stricken, I run a hand through my hair and pace the kitchen floor nervously.
Shit, shit, shit. This can’t be real. No, this isn’t happening.
I pinch my arm. Damn, I’m not waking up, which is my first clue that I’m not asleep.
I’m not fucking dense, I’m simply trying to convince myself and prohibit a freak-out session before I’ve even had a chance to take a single sip of my coffee.
Dylan emerges from the bedroom with Krista in tow. They shuffle—sleepy-eyed and groggy—to the kitchen to join me.
“What the hell are you screaming like a little girl for?” Dylan jokes, making fun of me in front of Krista. “Did you see a spider or something? Do you need Daddy to come and smash it for you?”
He’s speaking in a mocking tone that makes me desire punching him square in the nose.
“I didn’t see a spider…” I trail off with aggressive bluntness that even I don’t recognize in myself.
“Cockroach?” Dylan raises an eyebrow.
Krista screeches. “Okay, even I will scream if one of those is around. I swear a roach is like my kryptonite.”
“I didn’t see any bugs,” I blurt out hastily.
“Then what the hell has you looking so pale, dude?” Dylan eyes me with curious suspicion.
I toss a glance in Krista’s direction, but she meets my gaze, and she too seems visibly unnerved at this point.
“Okay…what is going on, you guys? You know something, and you aren’t telling me,” Krista accuses. “We can’t afford to have secrets or hold anything back from each other.”
“I don’t know anything you don’t know,” Dylan points to himself defensively.
“Who doesn’t know what?”
I spin around to notice King walking towards us while he throws a white t-shirt over his head. His hair is disheveled from sleep, and he has a cow lick.
“Okay,” I raise my voice, and throw my hands up. “I have some pretty bad news.”
I glance at Krista once again.
“Krista, you should probably be sitting down for this.”
“Oh, shit,” Krista turns green. “Just give it to me straight. I can handle it, everything has been turning to crap lately, anyway, so I might as well get used to it.”
She sounds so pitiful that it breaks my heart, but I have to get it over with, just like she’s demanding.
“There’s been a fire at the research room,” I state apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Krista.”
She gasps and nearly falls to the floor as her knees buckle with shock.
“Oh my God,” she states over and over, staring off into space.
“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” King tries to console Krista and rubs her back, but she cries silently with her head in her hands.
“Why don’t we get dressed and go over there? We don’t know how bad it is, maybe the damage isn’t vital.” Dylan suggests the idea to the entire group, and honestly, I think it’s a decent pitch.
“I got the messages this morning from Professor Smith. I think Dylan is right, we should go over there.”
Krista races from the kitchen to get dressed. I exchange a look with Dylan and King. “Between us, guys, it sounds like it’s pretty catastrophic.”
Dylan glances towards the closed bedroom door. “Krista is going to be crushed.”
“We will just have to try to support her the best way we know how,” I state confidently. “We can get through this.”
* * *
When we arrive at the research facility, it’s worse than what Professor Smith had described.
“Shit…” I trail off, mumbling under my breath.
The firemen have contained most of the fire now, and it’s just smoldering, burnt ash at this point. Everything is either turned to dust or soaking wet.
I glance around at all of our ruined, burned-to-a-crisp research that we have worked so hard to complete over the last several weeks.
King approaches me with a destroyed book and throws it on the ground where it makes a splattering sound as it hits the concrete below.
“I don’t see anything salvageable here,” he whispers to me under his breath.
“I don’t think you have to whisper.” I nudge my chin, pointing in Krista’s direction. “I think it’s pretty obvious to everyone here that we will have to start over from scratch.”
King looks regretfully at Krista, and pouts his bottom lip.
“So terrible,” he admits with a shake of his head.
It breaks my heart to see Krista in this distraught state of mind following the devastating aftermath of the fire.
I walk up to her and gently place my arms around her, drawing in the scent of her coconut shampoo. I squeeze her tightly to my chest, embracing her in a comforting hug. Suddenly, I feel weak and helpless, as if it’s my fault, that I should have figured out a way to prevent this from happening sooner.
Is this fire really an accident? I suppose only time will tell, and I will demand an answer from the fire marshal if I have to.
“I know how important this research is to you, darling,” I coo to Krista, trying to sooth her as I rub her hair gently.
“So much for saving the world.” Krista sobs into my shoulder; her voice full of defeat, which humbles me and enrages me all at once.”
“Whoever did this will pay.”
I glance over at King who is seething, fresh new anger rising to his flushed face. He spins around and punches a wall.
I know he’s probably just as frustrated as the rest of us. He has some papers of what we’ve been working on at his house, too, but it’s nothing compared to what we had here in the research room.
Krista is calming down substantially, but she’s still softly crying even after we tried so deliberately to lift her crumbling spirits.
“Why don’t we take you home?” Dylan approaches us with the suggestion.
>
“No.” Krista shakes her head adamantly.
“You don’t need to be here,” I whisper to her, hoping not to offend her spirits.
“Why don’t we all go home together?” Krista glances between us, the broken wounds of her heart are visible within her eyes.
“That sounds like a good idea to me,” I agree.
“I don’t want to be alone.” Krista chokes back a fresh sob. “I really want you guys with me.”
“We won’t leave you.” Dylan approaches her and squeezes her hands affectionately.
I have to admit I’m worried about her. She’s vulnerable and hit where it hurts. I too feel like I’m being punched in the gut on purpose, although we’re no closer to figuring out who the culprit is in this fiasco.
“Whoever did this is a dead man,” King says with violent enthusiasm.
“So, are you suggesting that you are willing to kill the person in charge?” Dylan smirks.
“That’s right!” King cracks his knuckles defiantly.
“Yeah, okay…” Dylan rolls his eyes.
“Guys, come on!” I snarl. “This is not the time for bickering.”
“I’m not bickering!” Dylan argues like a sullen child.
Krista begins to giggle. Well, at least the two idiots are taking her mind off things with their foolish banter.
We go back to my place again, where Dylan and King state they’re being called in to give a statement.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I stare at them. “We just got back to the house.”
Dylan shrugs. “It’s the president of the university who wants the statement. We’re under direct orders from him.”
“Geez,” I roll my eyes and wonder why they aren’t calling me in, but I secretly omit that part and keep it to myself.
“I’ll stay here and attend to you, baby,” I stroke Krista’s hair and she gives me a pitiful smile.
“Thanks,” she whispers.
We walk over to the couch together, and I begin to caress her inner thigh. At first, it’s absentminded, then becomes deliberate as the sexual heat and tension between us fills the room.
Krista and I glance at each other, exchanging a private look of desire. There are so many swirling, stressful emotions going through both of our minds right now. What’s the harm in a little play in order to take our minds off the problems we’re currently facing?
The build up of desire is strong, like a force field. I place my hands on her, gently laying soft kisses on her cheeks, her lips, and her neck.
She sighs, and I feel the pleasure of chill bumps rise on her skin.
The snake in my pants begins to grow, bulging out. Krista stares at it and smiles.
“He wants to come out and play with you.” I shrug sheepishly.
“I’ll take him out then.” Krista bites her lip and eyes me seductively.
I can still feel the sadness wallowing within her spirit. It’s almost as if she’s giving up for now, and she’s not willing to face her problems anymore.
“Let’s get lost in each other,” I tell her, suggesting the game so that we can feel a slice of happiness, even if it’s only short term.
“That sounds good to me,” she whispers as she slowly crawls her hand between my legs and pushes it inside my pants.
I feel her fingers exploring, like little tentacles looking for something exciting. She slides her hand over my hardened cock and begins to graze her fingertips softly over the tip, then slowly works her way down my shaft.
She’s driving me wild, intentionally, and I feel like I might explode with longing. Her hand makes a fist around my throbbing cock, and she begins to pump up and down, giving me a fantastic hand job.
Krista uses her free hand to unbuckle my belt, and I help her by shimmying out of my pants as she pulls them off my hips.
Leaning back, I groan and enjoy the magic. Krista plays with my cock with her hands as she strokes my ball sack. She rubs my taint, and I wonder if she’s some sort of mystical creature sent here to relieve me of all my stressful sorrows.
“This feels amazing,” I grunt, never wanting this pleasure and passion to end.
Krista works hard, sliding her tongue up and down my shaft as she continues to thrust her hand up and down, pumping with vigor.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I want to come all over her pretty little face.
“Lean down,” I grunt and push her head between my legs.
When she is in the exact position I want her in, I groan and lift her chin.
“Now, open your mouth,” I order my dirty little girl.
She does as she’s told, obeying while opening her mouth as wide as she can. It only takes a second before my hot load of cum squirts her directly in the face. She licks it off her lips and takes the dripping warm stuff off her chin with her index finger.
Slowly and deliberately, she eyes me with erotic and sexy seduction as she licks my hot cum off her finger.
Fuck, she’s amazing and stunning—simply gorgeous. If only for a little while, at least we both forgot about the fire for a few moments.
Krista
I’m bound and fucking determined to get back on track, to pick up where I left off, and start again.
I’m like a cockroach; it’s going to take more than a few tries to kill me. Okay, maybe that is a disgusting metaphor.
I’m a phoenix, rising from the ashes and flying off to greet the sun as the dawn paints its colors of magic across the sky. Yeah, that’s much fucking better.
I’m also mad as a hornet. Why is all this shit happening to me? I’ll do whatever it takes to succeed, and I will not fail no matter how bleak things look right now.
I didn’t get this scholarship for nothing. The show must go on, and life also goes on.
Walking to my kitchen, I try to mull over the positive portion of this wild-ass scenario. For starters, I have the guys.
They’re amazing. They support me and have my back no matter what. Honestly, without them, I wouldn’t have come as far as I have.
We have the ideas for the experiments, and all we have to do now is lay it all out there for theory testing and completion.
Speaking of the guys, I stare off into space as my mind drifts to all three of them.
Why are they always naked when I picture them? It’s not like I have to think of them this way in order to speak in front of a large crowd or something.
They’re so damn handsome, and let’s face it...that’s distracting, but in a good way. At least I know if everything is fucked up and turning to shit right now, I have their hard cocks to sooth and console me through the pain.
King, Simon, and Dylan are the light at the end of my tunnel, and every time they burrow into my tunnel—pun intended—it reminds me of that glorious fact.
I grab my coffee because I need it to make it through this day. I seriously can’t function without it. Not in the mood I’m in. Turning on the TV, I plop down on the couch for a few minutes of rest and relaxation.
I deserve to slow down my pace a few traces or two in this early morning, especially to recollect the constant swirl of thoughts within my head that are trying to form a web of destruction.
I flick the channels until I get to the local news. I want to know whether the fire in the research lab gets a mention. Sure enough, like perfect timing, the coverage of the fire begins as soon as I change the channel.
The reporter covering the story is on scene at the university, as smoke and ash from the devastation curl and pile up behind her.
I shake my head and gulp. Shit. It looks even worse in the crisp light of the new day.
I watch in agony as the reporter lays out all the facts that I want to deny but knew all along in my head to be true.
The fire was not an accident. It was staged and planned—arson, according to the fire marshal who investigated the crime scene.
Well, fuck. It’s officially being determined now that there is much more at play here. Who would do such a thing as to start a fi
re at the university?
I stand up with a jolt. I have to talk to the guys. I send them a group text to make it easier and faster.
I’ll be at work shortly, wait for me.
I get ready as quickly as I can and take the train. After arriving a few minutes later, I walk into the main building where I planned in advance to meet the guys for a discussion on what route to take next and what building we can use for a makeshift research office.
As I stop to pull open the front doors leading into the main atrium, I hear an unfamiliar male voice call my name from behind me.
Turning around curiously, my mouth falls open when I see who’s behind me. It’s the same bald man wearing a trench coat who I met the other day in the research lab. An ominous feeling prickles on the back of my neck, but I hold my ground.
“I really need to talk to you,” the man says, eyes pleading with urgency.
“I’m sorry.” Shaking my head, I spin on my heels and call out over my shoulder, “I’m late for something—in a hurry to start my research all over again.”
The man takes a few steps closer to me and closes the door before I can swoop through it.
“Please, this is really important. I think you’ll want to take a few minutes to talk to me after you hear what I have to say.”
I stare up at the man in perplexity. What does he want? The matter seems urgent.
“Okay,” I tell him even though I’m feeling both trepidation and frustration building up within me.
I’m a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode from the frayed nerves that have come unraveled over the last few days.
We stand together outside at the empty university steps. It’s still early, and most of the staff and students won’t arrive for classes for another hour or so.
Our silhouettes stand a few inches apart as we stare at each other, waiting to see who will make the first move. Apparently, it will be the trench coat guy because he wants to explain something to me.
“Alright, you have my attention,” I coax him. “What’s so important that you have to disrupt my morning?”
I don’t mean to be rude, but the fact that he’s showing up again leads me to believe that he has some tips to give me, and I only hope it’s about the fire.
