by Lex Martin
“You’re playing with fire,” he growls, adjusting himself.
“Well then, I hope I don’t get burned,” I say, trailing kisses down his body as I inch his pajama pants down.
My eyes widen as I see how hard he is. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin, one that quickly fades when I lick the tip.
“I want to make you feel good,” I whisper, looking up at him. His mouth opens, then closes, and for the first time, I’m pretty sure he has no words. I’m taking control.
“Don’t you dare move a muscle, or I’ll end this,” I warn, really wanting him to take his injuries seriously.
“But a good nurse wouldn’t allow me to suffer.” He smirks.
“What if I said I didn’t want to be a good nurse today?” I place him in my mouth and swirl my tongue on his throbbing cock.
“As long as you’re a really bad nurse, I’m good with that, too.” He closes his eyes, and I focus on my movements while listening to his low groans. I try to take him all in my mouth while increasing my pace. Small moans escape him, and I’m pleased, knowing he’s enjoying this as much as I am. I lick his shaft, not rushing, being the best damn nurse I know how to be. I grab him with my hand and place him in my mouth and move in a rhythmic motion, which causes him to tense beneath me.
“Princess,” he whispers. “I need to feel you.”
I know it’s a bad idea because of his injuries, but I need him as much as he needs me. Instead of protesting, I stand. He smiles as he moves my panties to the side with one finger. I push the chair against the desk and straddle him, allowing him to know what he’s done to me.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he says as I guide him in. The way he feels is indescribable, and I shudder as our ends meet. It’s like lock and key finally together at once, both useless without the other.
We take it slow, not rushing, not wanting to put extra stress on his body. He nips the skin of my neck with his teeth, and I run my fingers through his hair as I take him—all of him—continuously. The chair squeaks out with angry squeals, and I’m afraid it will collapse if we continue, but it doesn’t stop us. His mouth travels to my nipple, and his thumb moves to my clit. As he circles my hard bud, my body begs for relief. It’s easy to lose control with him, especially when I’m on the brink of ecstasy.
Moments later, I’m traveling down a path of no return, losing myself in the sensation. Our lips crash together, and he tastes like strawberry jelly and toothpaste. I pant into his mouth, riding the never-ending wave as our bodies rock together. When I bite his bottom lip, Travis’s body tenses. His fingers dig into my hips while he fights the impending orgasm that’s building, but it’s a losing battle. As he comes, Travis wraps his arms around my body and holds me tight as if he never wants to let me go. We stay in that position for a while, slowly and passionately kissing one another, our eyes speaking words that our lips can’t translate. We’re frozen in time, and nothing else matters.
“You’re beautiful. And I know what you’re getting for your birthday, my birthday, and for Christmas.”
“What?” I ask as I clean up.
“More lingerie.”
“And I know what you’re getting, too,” I say sweetly.
Travis tilts his head and waits.
“Blow jobs.”
Travis throws his arms in the air like a referee confirming a touchdown. “I’m in! My birthday is every day of the week. I also like them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A good girlfriend would agree. And I’ll be a wonderful, loving boyfriend and support it.”
“Girlfriend?” I joke. I put on my clothes and try to smooth my hair back into a ponytail as the electricity of what we did streams through me.
“That’s what you are. So, don’t be a bad one, unless you’re bad like you were a bad nurse.” He winks, not even realizing his words catch me off guard. It’s the first time he’s said I was his girlfriend out loud. I know we agreed to be together, but the title makes it seem official, not a see-where-it-goes kind of thing that I worked up in my mind. Travis King is my boyfriend. It doesn’t seem real.
Once we’re presentable again, I spread my books out on the kitchen table and attempt to study, but I’m finding it hard to concentrate. A text dings on my phone, a notification from the university, saying afternoon classes are canceled due to a flood warning. I literally do a fist pump.
“What’s going on?” Travis asks as he hears my whoop of joy.
“Class is canceled. Saved by the rain! I love rain!”
He leans against the doorframe and gives me a look. “Thirty minutes ago, you said you hated it.”
“Well, apparently, I love things that I sometimes hate,” I say, not even realizing what I’d just said.
“I love you, too, princess.” Travis smiles and takes a sip of his milk. My mouth falls open then I close it and open and close it again, but all he does is laugh.
“You’re an asshole,” I repeat the same words that he’s heard me say a million times over the years. My eyes widen. “No more gymnastics for you!”
“But it’s my favorite sport,” he jokes, but his delivery is a little off, and I can tell he’s not feeling well. It makes me feel guilty.
“Go rest. If you need something, just text me.”
He nods and walks down the hallway. I sit at the table and have to force myself to stop thinking about him and us. Hours pass, and I get through my reading list. The rain is actually relaxing when I’m not fighting it. Once I’m finished, I feel great about what I accomplished. Just as I tell myself ‘one more chapter,’ the doorknob turns, and Drew walks in, smiling as though he won the freaking lottery.
“Are you okay?” I stop reading and focus on him.
He’s soaked from head to toe, but the goofy smile on his face isn’t fading. He doesn’t even notice that I’m here early. I guess it all just looks normal to him, but it’s totally not.
“What’s the matter, I can’t be happy?”
I narrow my eyes. “Oh, you can, but you’re usually not. You’re scaring me.”
He takes his boots off at the door then goes straight to his bedroom whistling—yes, whistling—and changes. When he comes back, he’s wearing a zombie T-shirt and some basketball shorts. Cop by day, gamer by night, the dude is a chameleon.
“I’m ordering pizza. Cheat day to celebrate.” Drew flicks open an app on his phone and seconds later the pizza is ordered.
I raise my eyebrows and shove my books into my bag. “What are we celebrating, exactly?”
“Mia called today. She wants to talk about us getting back together. I think this time it might really work out. Vi, she misses me.”
I can’t hold back the disappointed look that crosses my face. Drew deserves more than this. And she’s played this game with him so many times over the past few years that it’s almost sickening. Hearing her name makes my jaw clench because I know my brother is nothing more than her backup plan when she’s bored. I just wish he could see it.
He stands and walks to the kitchen, coming back with a beer in hand. Yep, he’s way too happy, and I want to be happy for him, but I can’t find it within myself to do so.
Am I being hypocritical?
I force out a smile, not wanting to upset him. If this is what he truly wants, I’ll find it within my heart to accept his decision, and I hope he would do the same thing for me. Accepting is not the same as liking, I remind myself.
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “You’ve got that strange look on your face again.”
Drew isn’t an idiot. He’s a cop and has a sixth sense for this stuff. But every time someone mentions Mia, I just think, ‘yeah, she’s a Slytherin.’ Hell, she might even be Voldemort, but that’s yet to be determined. I close my eyes tight and open them, trying to get a grip.
“You’re still here?” Travis says, plopping down in the chair beside me. “You were in such a hurry to leave after you fed me that shitty toast that I didn’t think you’d stick around.”
I turn and look at him, grateful
for his saving grace. He looks more rested and not as exhausted as he did earlier, which makes me want to smile. The plate with the barely eaten toast is still on the table. Drew glances over at it and laughs before he sits on the couch next to me. I have to play this game, whether I want to or not. Just for now, I tell myself.
“Shut up, Travis. You should be glad I scraped the mold off for you.”
“At least you’re not eating kitty litter sandwiches,” Drew says with a big smile. “I swear Vi fed me one when we were kids.”
Now I genuinely am laughing. It was Pop Rocks and peanut butter—a secret recipe.
Travis notices how annoyingly happy Drew is, and questions it, just as I had. “What’s up with you?”
Drew looks at me, and I know I’m interrupting their dude talk, so I take the cue and walk back to the table. I’m half tempted to pull my books back out of my bag, but I don’t. Instead, I get on my phone and pretend to be searching for something. I’m far enough to be away but close enough to still listen.
“Mia called again. We’re going to talk about everything and figure out how to make it work because she said she couldn't get over us.”
Glancing over, I notice Travis’s reaction doesn’t change. “That’s great, dude.”
At this very moment, I wish I could use Legilimency and read his mind, just like Voldemort did to Harry.
A million questions stream through my mind, and it takes everything for me to hold them back. Does Travis approve of this? What’s his opinion about her and Drew? I make a mental note to ask him later. It can’t only be me who thinks this is a bad idea. And she knows if she keeps running back to Drew, he will never have time to get over her. Ugh. Every day I dislike her a little bit more.
“I might drive up and see her on my next day off. She said she has a lot to discuss with me,” Drew says, chugging his beer. “She mentioned a double date with her friend Kasey in a few weeks and asked if you’d like to join us.”
I feel my cheeks go pink, and I try to pretend what Drew just said is irrelevant to me.
“No, dude. I’m good. No woman should have to deal with me looking like this.”
My heart breaks a little because I know the cuts and bruises bother him. But I do an imaginary victory dance regardless. I clear my throat, letting them know this talk is over, and Drew sits back, still smiling. I shake my head and plop down next to him on the couch. I’m just a little pissed that Drew is trying to hook Travis up, or rather Mia is. I don’t know what she’s playing at, but she needs to back off, or she might find herself on the other side of the Avada Kedavra killing curse.
I try to ignore Travis, but he’s smiling because he knows Drew got to me.
“Panties still in a knot?” Travis asks nonchalantly.
“Aunt Flo, dude, I’m telling you,” Drew says to Travis, pointing directly at me.
“I’m not about to start my period, idiots. Seriously!”
Travis laughs, and Drew joins in. I try to ignore them both.
The pizza comes, and we eat. The rain finally stops, and by 7:00 p.m., I’m yawning like an old lady. I give Drew a side hug before I leave. He was so sprawled out on cloud nine, he didn’t even notice I didn’t have or do my laundry. Maybe Mia will be the perfect distraction for him.
“Bye, V,” Travis says with a smirk on his lips. I want to run to him and kiss him goodbye, but instead, I shake my head before I close the door. My heart is beating so fast as I drive home that I have to remind myself to breathe. Mia is trying to get Drew back. Travis is going to tell him about us. My life could easily transition into a soap opera.
When I arrive at my dorm, Ashley is making coffee cup cake in the microwave. Dorm life sucks sometimes. I couldn’t help but make a face because it always smells so disgusting because she puts protein powder in there, too.
“I get by with what I can. Oh hey, there’s some mail on the counter for you. I picked it up from the office this morning after class.” She puts a spoonful of mush in her mouth and smiles.
I drop my books and laugh at how loud it is as the thud echoes from the high ceilings. Nonchalantly, I walk to the counter and start going through the piles of junk mail that are stacked up over break, until I come across a cream-colored envelope with a red seal. The front is addressed to Ms. Viola Fisher with a generic P.O. Box as the return address.
My heart begins to race as I peel the envelope open and read as fast as I can. When I read the words, “You’ve been selected for an internship with Union International,” my heart stops. One of the largest corporations in the United States wants to give me, the book-loving Harry Potter nerd with little to no experience, a chance. Attached to the back of the letter is three pages of paperwork that must be submitted soon. The internship would start two weeks after graduation, and I would be required to move to Boston and live there for six months. I drop the letter on the counter, unsure of how to feel because I’m riding a roller coaster of emotions. This is another thing to add to my list of worries, which seems to be getting longer by the minute.
Travis was right; opportunities do sometimes come when least expected. I never in a million years imagined that I’d be chosen out of the thousands who apply each year. I submitted an application on a whim, and now, as I stare down at the ivory paper with the precision-printed message, I realize I must make one the hardest decisions of my life. My entire future depends on it.
Chapter 8
Travis
Days when Viola is at school and tutoring in the evenings suck ass, and I wish even more I was able to occupy myself with going to the gym or even going into work. Since I’m not able to do either, all that’s left are Drew’s video games.
I’m not usually much of a gamer, but if I have nothing better to do, it fills the time. He has all the newest ones, including Call of Duty and Madden 17, so I’ve been switching back and forth between them. After Wednesday’s close call with Drew asking about Viola, I knew we had to start being more careful if we were going to postpone telling him. My plan is to get us out of the house finally because God knows I’m going stir-crazy being here all damn day, but also because I want to take Viola on our first lunch date.
At exactly 11:15, I hear the front door open and shut and Viola’s footsteps against the hardwood floor. Her class ends at 11:00 a.m. and she’s always consistent about being on time. It’s one of the dorky little quirks I love about her.
“Are you limping?” I ask her as soon as I see her.
“Shut up.” Her mouth twitches as she tries to hold her pout. “Keep all your comments to yourself, please.”
She’s feistier than usual today, and I fucking love it.
“Dammit. I had a really good one, too.” I smile as she takes a spot next to me on the couch.
She looks at me and rolls her eyes.
“Rough morning?”
“No, I’m just not getting a lot of sleep these days.” She gives me a pointed look.
“Me either, so maybe we should just suffer together and sleep in the same bed.”
“Took you less than five minutes this time, huh?” She sighs, taking the game controller from my hand.
“Oh, it would’ve been less than a minute had you not been limping in here like you’d just ridden a horse.” I grin, despite her side glare.
She finally cracks a smile, and my entire body lights up. “You suck at this game, by the way.”
I focus my attention on the TV, where she’s dominating, while I was just barely going to survive to the next level. “You are a true nerd, through and through.”
“A nerd who could kick your ass,” she fires back, and I’m tempted to throw that controller out of her hands and bury my face in her neck.
“Let’s just see about that,” I challenge, grabbing the other controller off the end table. She doesn’t play much either, so I’m moderately optimistic that I can beat her.
“You want to wager?” The playful tone of her voice makes me smile. It’s the first time all week I’ve seen her visibly relax wi
thout physically wearing her out first.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to surrender, instead of going through the humiliation of losing to a cripple?”
She snorts and wiggles her ass to the edge of the sofa. “Don’t you dare play the cripple card!” She laughs as I aim and fire at her on the screen. “You had my legs wrapped around your shoulders as you nearly split my body in half, so don’t even try it.”
The memories flood in and my dick gets hard just thinking about it. While I’m distracted by thoughts of her, she aims and shoots directly at me.
“Ha!” She pumps a fist in the air. “You’re so easy.”
I rub a hand over the stubble of my jawline and look intently at her. “So that’s how we’re going to play, huh? You think a little dirty talk is going to distract me?”
“I think I just proved it, so...yeah.” The smug expression on her face gives me life, but I won’t admit that to her right now. I’ll play by her rules if that’s how she wants to play the game.
Tossing the remote down on the couch, I bring my fingers down to the bottom of my shirt and lift it over my head. She glances over at me, eyeing the tattoos on my chest and arms. Opening her mouth, she doesn’t say anything and then quickly forces her lips into a firm line.
“I’m not the only easy one, princess.” I wink, and she scoffs, turning away. I laugh at her denial because I know it’s driving her insane.
I finally win a round, and instead of telling me off, she mimics my moves and sets her controller down before lifting her shirt over her head. She’s wearing a tiny little camisole, and I can see her hard nipples at attention right under the fabric.
I stay silent, refusing to admit I’m much more interested in sucking on her tits than playing this game. Before starting her turn, she grabs the hair tie from her wrist and pulls her hair up, exposing her neck and chest. Fucking hell.
Except she doesn’t stop there. Once her hair is tied up, she grabs her controller and drags it down with her to the floor as she lies on her stomach. She bends her knees and perks her ass up as she shuffles her legs back and forth in the air.
