by Dakota Lee
“You said we were done. That I was a game.” My skin is on fire and I feel my wetness slipping down the inside of my thighs, causing them to stick together.
“And now I’m saying, I’m not finished. I did what I had to do, to win the game, and now I’m doing what I want to do. I’m not done. Christ, Jordy, I don’t know if or when I’ll ever be done.”
“Do your friends know that?”
“Enough questions.” He pushes me up and pulls me back down onto his steel shaft, over and over again.
“Why?” The word is a throaty whimper as he thrust into me, hitting me deep. “Why me?”
He tugs my clit hard, and I shatter. I didn’t even know I was this close. His hand covers my mouth, muffling my screams as he buries his face against my back. I’m in the seat beside him before I’ve had a chance to recover, holding on to the armrest, watching as he disappears in the shadows just as stealthily as he appeared.
I see him pop up in the first row beside Claire. A satisfied smirk graces my lips when she reaches for him, only to get rewarded with him crossing his arms across his chest. I have my reasons for entertaining his attentions, but for him, how much of what he said is true and how much is a game? I asked him why me, and through my moans, I could have sworn I heard him whisper, “Because I love you.”
Thirty
Logan
I’ve just finished telling Simon how Jordy crashed my birthday festivities. I damn near lost my composure when she showed up at the show. The only way she could have gotten there is if she was at The Rift when we were loading the cars. I don’t know how she knew there was a party happening there, or why she’d go, but I’m glad someone assumed she was part of the group and brought her along.
“You’re an idiot.” Is Simon’s simple response.
“Tell me how you really feel, old friend.”
“Gladly. I’m not there and I can’t see what the dynamic is, but I know you well enough to know you’re fucking it up all over again.”
“How do you figure? As you said, you’re not here.”
“The strain in your voice makes my ears bleed, and you just posted the darkest picture I’ve ever seen on your Prospectus wall. What happened at the show? She ask you to suck her toes and you said no?”
“No wouldn’t be the answer I’d ever give to a request to put my lips on her.”
“So…”
“So what happened on my birthday was only a brief pause from the fight we’re still having. It’s like I told you before, she thinks I’m hiding us, and-”
“She’s absolutely right. Besides me, does anyone else know that you still have a raging hard on for the most hated female on campus? And that’s saying a lot because you know, in my book Bella is the only person who should hold that title.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Claiming your girl? What could be so hard about that? Unless, you just want to keep her as your dirty little secret.”
“She’s not my dirty little anything. I respect the shit out of her. Always have.”
“Then I’ll ask you again, what the fuck is the problem?”
The problem is, I’m still flying blind here. The lawyer doesn’t think we have a problem, but nothing like this has ever happened before. I’ve never been close to losing a bet. And I sure as fuck never went back and reengaged with a mark.
The truth is, Jordy’s got me doing a whole lot of shit I’ve never done. Again. Starting with falling in love and ending with this indescribable need, I have to own her. To claim her and lock her in a castle, never to be seen or heard from again. Of course I’d let her mother and sister visit, but nobody else. Maybe Kassidy. But definitely nobody with a dick. Or anyone into pussy. Better cover all the bases.
“Still there?”
“Yup.”
“Reflecting on the stupidity of the situation and freaking out?”
“A little.”
“Lemme ask you something. I met this girl, and she seems sweet. Too sweet for you. How much longer do you think she’s gonna hang in there if you don’t show the very people that helped you torment her that things are different this time around? Because until you say something, won’t they still think this is all part of the game?”
“That’s just it Simon. A part of me knows that if I say something, they’ll still see this as part of the game and…”
“And find a way to screw things up for you. And by they, we still mean Bella Bitch?”
I grunt in agreement.
His voice takes on a hard edge when he says, “I can’t wait for the day someone takes her down.”
I don’t tell him what I’m thinking. What I’m always thinking. Bella is Bella because she’s insulated. No one has ever found anything they can use as leverage against her. I should know, because I’ve been looking for years.
* * *
We end our call and I dial Jordanna’s number, frowning at the phone when it goes straight to voicemail. I regret leaving her in the balcony after we fucked, but that was better than putting her in the line of fire. Claire thought showing up meant she had a chance at something. And after that stunt she pulled at the nightclub, I didn’t want to risk seeing what she’d do in a room full of horny young adults. I’m sure it would’ve been something along the lines of putting Jordy in a position where she might’ve been trying to survive the sexual version of Hunger Games, or having to watch Claire try to seduce me.
My cousin’s an idiot. I’m not sure how we have the same blood flowing in our veins. He lacks that cutthroat instinct and natural distrust the McKay men have. More simply than that, he can’t see that Claire doesn’t give a shit about him. Sure, she’ll marry him and probably pop out a baby, but the vows about fidelity won’t be worth the paper they’re written on.
I thought Claire and I were the most compatible out of everyone I’d been with. But, every time I nudge Jordy past the point of normal, she fearlessly base jumps off the safety cliff with both eyes open.
I try her number again, and she still doesn’t pick up. I’m just about to lock my phone when I notice a new alert on my Prospectus account.
My hand clenches into a fist as I stare at the pic. Jordy’s been posting on her wall more and more. Today’s post is like a punch in the gut.
Her friends, Tiffany and Marina are in the picture with her, but I can spot Noel and Sterling in the background. The caption reads:
* * *
In the city with the besties. Time to teach them how to party VDU style.
She spent another weekend ignoring me and showed up here at my studio unannounced an hour ago. She’s behind her easel painting, while I’m working on my next sculpture. The stress lines on her face are like a road map to the turmoil she’s feeling. It’s an easy silence, but it’s way past time we should talk. I checked the calendar, so I know we’re coming up on the anniversary of her father’s death. It’s likely the only reason she’s here. Trying to avoid whatever she’s feeling.
“Do you miss him?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“Who?”
“Your dad.”
She lifts her eyes to mine and swallows. I think she’ll ignore the question, but she doesn’t. “Every day.”
“Is it worse this time of year?”
Shaking her head, her brush pauses mid air. “Summer and mom’s birthday are the worst days for me. They’ll probably tell you something different. I think each of us experiences his loss during different times of the year. You can tell because one of us will be so quiet, and it’s hard to get us to do anything but hide away from the world. Mom was better at hiding it when Penn was around. But now…”
“Is that why you’re here? You’re using my studio to hideout?”
“Do you mind?”
It’s my turn to shake my head. “No, baby. I don’t mind at all.”
We fall back into silence, and another hour passes before I turn off my pottery wheel. Wiping my hands on a rag, I pick up my phone to order dinner.
“You know you
’d save way more money if you learned how to cook.”
“I know how to cook, but I never know when I’m coming here, so buying a ton of groceries, and taking food out to defrost during the week would be a waste of money.”
“Why don’t you know? It’s not like you need permission to stay at your own studio.”
“Because, since meeting you, it’s hard to pin down what’s happening in my life from one minute to the next.” I hadn’t meant to say that. It sounds like an accusation and it’s not.
“What do you want to happen?”
“Today? I want to feed you and forget everything else in the world exists.”
Over dinner I ask her more about her dad, and sit quietly as she shares story after story. Eventually we settle into bed. I pull her into my arms, and finally the emotion behind it all bubbles to the surface.
Her voice is pained when she asks, “Did you know the reason I don’t drive is because of the way he died?”
I didn’t know, but it makes sense.
“People think I’m crazy for taking the bus, or a cab. It’s a waste of money when I don’t have any to begin with, but whenever my hands close around a steering wheel, I freeze up.”
“Baby, you never have to drive if you don’t want to.”
“Eventually, I’ll need to, because one day there will be someplace I need to get to and a bus or cab won’t be an option.”
Pulling her closer, I say, “If that happens, call me, and I’ll drive you or send a driver to you.”
“What if I’m on the other side of the world and we’re no longer on speaking terms?”
“Doesn’t matter where you are, or if you’re not speaking to me. I’ll always make sure a vehicle gets to you, so you’ll feel safe.”
I think she’s fallen asleep until she links her fingers with mine, placing them between our chests. “Thank you for listening.”
“Thank you for trusting me enough to share your stories.”
* * *
I wake up to Jordy, still wrapped around me in bed. She looks so sweet and cute that I can’t resist kissing her awake. The sadness behind her eyes lingers, but it also looks like some of the heaviness has lifted. She opened up to me last night in a way she never did before and I don’t want to leave this bubble we’ve created.
Nobody else’s thoughts or feelings matter here. If somehow Bella tries to weasel her way back into winning the bet, I’ll deal with it, but I can’t keep hiding us like I’m ashamed or scared. It’s hard to slay someone else’s fears when I won’t confront my own.
Thirty-One
Jordanna
I’m ignoring my homework and the article I should be writing. Instead I’m following up on the names that might have a connection to Pepper’s compact. I love investigative journalism, and working at The Guild gives me access to press credentials which opens doors and mouths when I’m conducting research.
I disconnect the call that turned out to be another dead end. This Santino Elcor wasn’t a junior, third, or fourth and didn’t know of anyone in his family history that would have been a metal forger. Though he offered to be whoever I wanted if I looked as hot as I sounded on the phone. He was no help, but I’m not giving up. I’m so close. I can feel it.
I scoop up my books and rush out the room heading to class. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Rushing from one end of campus to the other, trying to get where I’m supposed to be on time.
I know what my mom would say if I told her. That I’m spreading myself too thin. I’ve got a handle on my schedule, but I’m trying to avoid running into Logan because there’s a fissure in my heart after opening up to him about my dad. Until I reseal it, I can’t be around him.
Keeping my distance, has me logging early morning hours at the paper when I know he’s in class. I’m coming through the side door of the building on my way to Interpersonal Comm and he’s heading towards me. I can’t run the other way because we’re in this class together.
Watching the way he moves, I have to ask myself why he couldn’t have been someone else. The raw power of his strength, the way his eyes glimmer and darken, the way his body moves against me. He’s pure sexual energy when he wants to be and when we’re close, all I feel is rage and need.
I expected him to take advantage of my vulnerability and sleep with me when I shared about my dad, but he didn’t. He just kissed and held me, promising me shit I know he didn’t mean. Yes, in the moment, he probably thought he’d always be the bigger person and loan me a car if I’m stuck. But when this is over, he’ll come to the same conclusion I have. We’ll never be friends again.
Any time, Jordy.
That’s what he said in the stairwell. That I could use him at any time. My body is tense, like I need a massage. Maybe using him as a stress reliever isn’t the worst idea he’s had. I stroll past him towards class and take my seat. My mind wanders during the discussion and I only catch half of what’s being said, because I’m trying to figure out my next move where Logan’s concerned. I want him so wrapped up in me, he won’t see what’s coming, but this will only work if he thinks he’s winning me over.
My phone buzzes with an unrecognizable number. I send it to voicemail. There’s no way I’m answering it or listening to the message until later, because Professor Wynn has no problem embarrassing students when he notices they’re not paying attention in class. He’s one of those older people who thinks the invention of technology is ruining people’s ability to communicate. I guess that’s on brand for someone teaching this class.
Even though I’m going out of my way to avoid Logan, I make a note of who’s sitting near him and what they’re doing. Bella’s been really handsy with him lately and I know it’s because she thinks I care. The jokes on her, because I don’t. But I grimace when I see her sling her leg over his thigh. I’ll leave it to her to infer what the look of disgust on my face is really about.
My eyes skim the class and land on Chad, one of Dixon’s video game friends. He smiles at me, and my smile is quick and genuine in return. He’s teaching me how to play the latest NBA game. Summer’s gonna flip when she realizes I’m no longer so easy to beat.
I sense Logan get up from his seat and my body tingles with awareness when he takes the chair behind me. My hair is down, the air flits across the nape of my neck when he slips his fingers through my strands. To anyone else it looks like he’s being an ass and pulling my hair, when in actuality, his fingertips graze my scalp in a slow massage. I feel the movement down to my toes, but the tingles are especially concentrated between my legs.
I press my thighs together, trying to focus on what the professor is saying while ignoring the pulsing in my clit. The only way to counteract the feelings he’s invoking is by not letting him touch me. So I lean forward, out of his reach.
* * *
Logan’s waiting for me after class. “Why’d you pull away?” He asks, pushing away from the wall.
“Why’d you leave your seat to come sit behind me?”
“Because I haven’t seen you in days, and I wanted to be near you.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“What?”
“That you wanted to be near me. It’s cruel Logan.”
“It’s the truth, Jordy. I’m tired of staying away from you when we’re in public.”
“Meaning it’s time to start fucking with me again?”
“Fucking you. That’s what you meant to say, and I’m already doing that. But you’re right. It’s time to stop hiding it from everyone, because until I let them know you’re still mine, guys will keep coming onto you.”
“No one’s doing that.”
“The hell they aren’t. You haven’t noticed because your head’s always buried in that book these days.”
“Do you have some pressing editorial information to relay to me right now, or can I go to lunch?”
I’m trying to stand my ground, but him in my space and the intensity of his gaze is unsettling. Use it and change it over. E
mbrace the discomfort. I say the words inside my head, and unclench my teeth and my fists. If I punch him in the nose, he’ll never believe I’m softening towards him. “Seriously Logan, I’m starving. Can whatever you need wait until later at the paper?”
“Why don’t I go with you and we can talk about it over a long meal. My treat.”
“I can pay for my own food.”
He’s staring at me, waiting for me to agree to his terms and I really do want to eat. Okay, we’ll play this his way. I pull on the sleeve of his jacket, turning him towards the exit. “Fine. If paying to watch me stuff my face makes you happy, let’s go.”
My eyes dart to the crotch of his pants when he says, “Stuffing your face always makes me happy.”
“How about I feed you an actual meal first?” He chuckles, slipping his arm over my shoulder and leading out the building and down the path to the dining hall.
When we reach the door, I step away, putting space between us. As soon as he steps through the door behind me, he hooks his hand around the strap of my backpack, slipping it from my shoulder. I grab right above his hand, tugging on it. There’s no way in hell I’m letting him walk off with my shit. Last semester when he did that, he dropped me right in the middle of his pack of hyenas.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid to be seen with me.”
“I’m not the one who has to answer to his friends for fraternizing with the budget friendly.”
“Jordy, don’t start creating problems where there aren’t any. If we’re going to be together-”
“Together? Logan, we barely talk, and when we do, we’re arguing and fighting and then we wind up fucking.”
“I know we have a lot to work through, but I want us to get back to the point where you let your guard down around me. I swear, I’ll be worthy of your trust this time. And I’ll deal with my friends.”
