Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set)
Page 128
Images flash through my brain of the two of them going at in the elevator, tearing each other’s clothes off, getting hot and heavy—
I cut off that line of thinking with an angry grunt. What the fuck’s gotten into me? Rules that exist in civilized society! Certain standards to live by, and I don’t care who you are. They wouldn’t just jump each other the second the doors closed. Summer would love to, no doubt. But it’s not going to happen. It’s simply not.
I’m being way dramatic. Totally histrionic. It stems from the unease I feel waiting down here for him, no better than a groupie. It’s intensified by coming face-to-face with the two people I desperately need to keep apart. Maybe it’s the cognitive dissonance from promising myself to do one thing, then reneging on it and doing entirely another. Or hell, it’s running into Summer just as I’m about to sneak behind her back that has my guilt flaring and my mind on overdrive.
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s James. There’s nobody else I’d ever wait down here like this for.
I check my phone. Ten minutes. Ten minutes! What the fuck is taking him so long? Is the whole escapade now off?
I should just forget it. I should hit the elevator button, go upstairs, leave before I can make this any worse. Maybe in the apartment I’ll grow enough backbone to tell Summer that—
Two hands slither around my waist and pull me back. My hips collide with James’s crotch.
“There you are,” he rasps in my ear. “You waited for me. Good girl.”
I twist away, out of his grip, and challenge him with eyes. “I can’t believe you!” I hiss. I think we’re alone here, but I still keep my voice low. “You ass! Why the hell did you have to come up to us? Why’d you leave with her?”
“Your friend?” He rolls his eyes. “Oh God, what a bore. She wouldn’t shut up about me the whole way up.”
“You promised her the TA position,” I start. “You‘re not going back on your word.”
“No?” He looks amused. “And what would you do to stop me?”
“I’d turn around and leave right now,” I tell him firmly, “and damn your effect on me.”
That earns me a Cheshire smile. “There’s an effect?”
“Of course, there’s an effect!” I explode. “You—“
I don’t get to finish my thought. He grabs me and cuts me off by clasping his lips on mine.
I fight it, still feeling pissy, but he overpowers me. He pushes me into a nearby wall. His kiss grows hungry. It’s heated, raw, and very, very intense.
I give up the fight, knowing it’s nothing more than token resistance. My mind swims. I lose myself in him.
I kiss him back. His hands run down my body, pressing into my breasts. My hands go into his hair. I pull him to me, kissing deeper and harder. My body is operating on pure instinct. He pushes his hips into me. I gasp when I feel his prominent erection press through his pants.
Jesus, I feel as horny as a teenager. My hands race to grip his firm ass. Every inch is a battle fought and won. I press and squeeze, loving the feeling of muscle beneath my hands. My breaths fill me with him, and that unyielding need just grows larger and larger. Stronger and stronger, and it’s all for him.
James breaks away. His hair is tangled, messy, evidence of my fingers’ explorations. His nostrils flare as he looks at me, really at me, with those stunning eyes.
Then he launches himself forward again, and we collide in a storm of passion and lust and desire. We’re so close to the elevator, anybody could come down and see. Even Summer.
But I don’t care. I’m wild and free and alive. My blood is roiling. Every cell in my body is turned on. It’s amazing, because when I’m with him, everything else ceases to exist. All my doubts and uncertainties are gone. All of my inadequacies are suddenly forgotten. Everything. Nothing matters except him and me, me and him, two people caught in a fiery vortex being consumed by each other.
James pulls back and starts kissing my neck. Down, down, down he goes, reaching my shoulder and tugging the shirt away to expose more skin.
My eyes flutter closed. I give a breathy sigh.
Then he stops. He grabs my hand. “Not here,” he says. He looks behind him into the never-ending rows of stacks. “I need to fuck you –Celeste, this isn’t just want. This is absolute need.”
“So… what are you waiting for?” I ask with a sultry lilt.
“Oh God,” he groans. His eyes glaze over for a moment, and I lose him as his imagination takes him somewhere far away. He comes to with a shiver. “Back there,” he says. “I know a spot.”
I rush after him, my hand firmly in his. We run from the bright lights of the entrance hall into the tall, dark rows of books.
Halfway down an abandoned aisle, I stop him with a yank. I tug him back.
He takes the hint, and his mouth latches onto mine.
Then he lets go and we’re racing down the aisle again. All my inhibitions are shot. I don’t care if anybody sees us, if we get kicked out, if I get expelled, anything. All I care about is how soon his dick can get inside me.
“Here,” he rasps. “Right here.” I can hear the desire grating in his voice, the harsh intensity that tells me just how hard I’m going to get fucked.
“Kiss me,” I say. He presses his body into mine and obliterates me with a soul-devouring kiss. He lifts the hem of my shirt up, up. I lift my arms and break the kiss to let him take it over my head. I’m in my bra and sweats and nothing else. He’s still in his coat, which I eagerly rip off. Next I unbuckle his belt and rip it fast from the loops. In one move I pull his pants down, briefs and all, and see his erection.
It’s glorious. His cock is full and thick and hungry for me. I can see the strain.
I drop to my knees and take him in my mouth.
“Oh God, Celeste.” He shudders as I start sucking him off. I go full-force right away. I’m starved for him. Even though it’s only been two days since Friday, it feels like a lifetime.
He starts pulsing his hips into me. I let him guide the movement. I love it when he’s consumed by his pleasure. By the pleasure that only I can give him.
His cock hits the back of my throat, but I just take him deeper. My hands run along the backside of his legs, stopping to grip his magnificent ass. I’m making so much noise sucking his cock that I’m sure anybody within fifty feet can hear.
I don’t care. This type of reckless abandon excites me. This type of reckless abandon turns me on. I want to make him come. I want to feel him fire his hot semen straight into my mouth. I want—
It doesn’t matter what I want, because at that moment James takes things into his own hands.
He lifts me up and pulls my sweats down to expose my ass. His hand slides between my ass cheeks, and he fingers my pussy.
“You’re wet,” he gasps.
No shit I’m wet! I think. Instead, I say, “Only for you.”
“God, Celeste, your pussy…” He licks his finger and strokes my folds. I moan.
He steps behind me. “Ready?” he asks.
“Protection!” I gasp.
“Fuck protection, we haven’t got time,” he growls.
“No.”
“Celeste—“
“No!”
“Fine.” He reaches down for his slacks on the floor, takes his wallet and withdraws a condom, rips the package, and slips it on. “Better?” he asks.
“Yes, better,” I say. “Now fuck me!”
With one savage push he complies.
I bite down the cry that falls from my lips. He grips my hips and starts pulsing into me hard. Full, deep strokes fill me.
I feel that exquisite stretch each time.
I start giving short, staccato gasps. My hands grip the metal supports of the shelf before me. James groans and fucks me harder. I bite my lip to stop from screaming.
He grabs my hair and pulls my head back. My eyes pop open when he tugs. My heart is racing, and I’m consumed by him.
James’s hands come down my body, and he grabs
my breasts. When he squeezes, I can’t help it. My mouth falls open, and I issue a needy moan.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” I beg, my voice a ragged whisper. My head goes side to side to check that we’re still alone. “Yes, James, just like that. Harder!”
He rages into me. His cock fills my pussy deep. Every penetrating stroke builds the rhythm that pushes me to orgasm.
And then, that glorious moment comes. I shatter into a million tiny fragments, right there in that hidden enclave in the library basement. My legs shake, and my spine trembles as I feel every last bit of the wonderful pleasure wash through me. James continues from behind, and then he comes, too, punctuating his climax with a satiated moan.
He falls into me and holds me there, just for a little bit. His hot torso presses against my back.
He takes my chin with one finger and turns my head around. He looks me in the eyes, wipes the bit of sweat from my brow, and whispers, “Come to my apartment. Spend the night.”
There isn’t a single coherent thought left in my brain.
So, like the fool I am, I mumble, “Okay.”
17.
Only when James parks his Porsche in the basement of his building do I come to my senses and realize just what it is I’m doing.
But it’s too late to back out now. He opens my door and holds out his hand. I take it after a moment’s hesitation. He smiles and leads me out.
All the while, my mind is screaming: Bad, bad, bad idea! Bad, awful, horrible idea!
Not knowing what else to do, I shut the voice up.
We ride the elevator to his suite. I’m completely sober coming into his apartment this time, so the magnificence of it impresses me a hell of a lot more.
It’s huge. Absolutely massive. It takes up one-half of the building’s rooftop, the other dedicated to the pool and deck that hosted the party outside on Friday.
It’s decorated in a sleek, modern way, in full contrast to his office. There are sparse few paintings on the walls, but the ones I do see are black and white and abstract, full of powerful, deep strokes and bold lines.
Kind of like him.
Everything else is glass and steel. The elevator opens to a grand view of the outside rooftop. I bite my lip in a nervous sort of way when I remember how he led me away from the party just days ago. How he made me come there, in full view of all the attendees. How he walked me up those spiraling stairs and brought me to his bedroom.
And now I’m back.
This is a lot to take in.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asks, leaving me stranded in the middle of the vast floor. “Water? Wine? Something stronger?”
“Something stronger,” I tell him, still feeling a little bit dazed. This apartment is massive! I shouldn’t even be here!
He smirks at me from behind the counter of his bar. “’Something stronger’ coming right up.” He takes a bottle of liquor from the cupboard and pours it into a steel shaker. He adds some ice, a few neo-colored syrups, shakes, and sets it before me. He pours the mix in a highball glass and pushes it to me.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Try it,” he says. “You’ll like it. It’s good.”
I pull the glass to me. “Wait,” he interrupts. He rummages through a drawer and pulls out a metal straw, which he drops in. “There,” he says. “Much better.”
I take a delicate sip. It’s sweet. Too sweet, almost, but I feel the bite of the mysterious liquor beneath.
I take a long draw on my drink before looking back at him.
“So,” I say.
“So,” he agrees.
“Can I ask you something? It’s kind of…” I hesitate, “…personal.”
“Oh yeah,” he says. “Don’t worry. What is it? Shoot.”
“Well,” I begin, then have to stop to take another long sip before continuing. “You’re this big shot professor on campus, aren’t you?”
He cocks his hip against the counter and gives a coy grin. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I guess you could say that.”
“And… at the same time, an author of all these books that gave you legions of fans…”
He shrugs. “It gets old after a while, to be honest.”
“And yet you host these massive parties…”
His eyes glimmer. “I do. I’ve got to find something to break the monotony of day-to-day life.”
I scoff. “So monotonous. You’ve got a yacht and a sports car and probably one of the greatest apartments in the city. You fuck girls left, right, and center.”
He opens his lips to protest, but I continue right over him, emboldened by the alcohol hitting my blood stream, “I know you do. Don’t make me look like an idiot and say you don’t. It’d be insulting.”
His lips quirk up in a playful smile. “Whatever gave you the idea I would deny it?” he asks.
“That’s not the point,” I say.
“What is the point, dear Celeste?” he teases.
The point is, why me? I almost bluster. But that would be giving in to all the insecurities that Brad brought to the surface with me… and all the ones I vowed to bury deep in the aftermath.
“The point…” I say, looking around the grandiose space. “How? How is all of this possible? It almost seems like something out of a fairy tale.”
Suddenly James goes all serious. “My life is far from a fairy tale.”
The mood shift lasts only a second. He blinks, and it’s gone.
He smiles again and walks around the counter to extend his arm. “Come with me,” he says. “I want to show you something.”
I take one last sip and take his hand. His fingers wrap around mine. Such warmth flows up my arm that for a second I’m left entirely woozy. I sway on my feet. James slips around and catches me.
“Careful,” he says. “That was a strong drink.”
I blink dumbly, feeling just a little bit… off. It’s not just alcohol that’s hitting me, it’s something else:
James.
He leads me up the stairs, back toward his bedroom. I have to hold on hard to him to keep my balance.
Jesus, what was in that drink?
We cross the threshold. James’s arm is looped around my waist. I remember the bedroom from just a few nights ago. But Christ, all the lights are starting to blur together. I’m getting woozy.
I stumble away from him and land on the bed. “James?” I ask. My head is spinning. I can almost see two of him. “What the hell did you put in that drink?”
“Nothing,” he says. Then he looks at me. He sees me, as I am, and concern flashes across his face. “Jesus, Celeste, are you all right?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. All the colors start to blur. The lights make great streaks across my vision.
I stop moving my head. The world regains some of its balance. I see James, crouched in front of me. “Celeste?” he asks. His voice comes to me as if through a fog. “Celeste, what the fuck is going on with you?”
“I… I don’t know.” I’m slurring my words. My lips move, my tongue works, but none of the right syllables are coming out.
The world takes on a spacey haze.
“I think,” I say. “I think I’m going to be sick!”
And then I turn to my side and hurl all over the bedding.
“Oh shit,” I start to cry. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Look what I’ve done! No, no, no…”
“Celeste. Celeste, it’s all right. Celeste, look at me! Jesus, what’s happening to you?”
“The…drink…” I slur.
That’s all I manage. My eyes drift back. I pass out.
***
In and out. In and out. In and out.
I’m drifting in and out. Darkness drapes my consciousness. My eyelids are so heavy. Why are they so heavy?
I try to open them. I throw all my focus into tearing them open.
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
Voices sound in the distance. Loud voices, yelling voices. I hear sirens. I
’m being lifted. Carried somewhere.
I manage to pry my eyes open. Bright, flashing lights surround me. A man in a uniform at my side. My head lolls one way and then the next. Where am I? What’s happening?
Hands hold me down. Strong hands. I’m being strapped in somewhere. I’m on my back. I’m lying prone.
My eyes shutter open and close. Vaguely, through the haze, I hear sirens again. I feel propulsion. We’re moving. I’m moving, but where am I?
Then, for one brief, lucid moment, I can see and recognize the back of an ambulance with paramedics all surrounding me.
That gives me a sense of comfort. I close my eyes and willingly fade away.
18.
Next time I’m awake I’m in a hospital bed. My head hurts.
I groan and sit up. My eyes gloss over all the machines surrounding me. These aren’t exactly new surroundings.
But what does alarm me are the two figures sitting by my bed. Summer. And James.
Fuck, shit, fuck! I push myself up in a hurry. The movement catches their attention.
Summer springs to me first. James is… slower getting up. He has this uneasy look on his face that I’ve never seen before.
“Celeste! Oh my God, Celeste, you’re up.” Summer throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight. I try to hug her back, but the movement nearly dislodges the IV needle stuck to my arm.
“Ow, ow, ow.” I cringe, pulling my arm back fast. The pain goes away.
James stands behind her with his hands in his two front pockets. He meets my eyes, gives a slight nod, but doesn’t say anything.
“What happened?” I ask. I pray to God James didn’t tell Summer anything I don’t want her to know. “What time is it?”
“Just after eleven,” Summer says. “Shit, Celeste, when I got the call that you were in here I was so worried. I rushed here as fast as I could.”
That makes no sense. Summer isn’t my guardian or family. The hospital wouldn’t have her number.
“Who called you?” I ask.
“Professor Landon did.” Summer glances at him. “Right after he found you collapsed in the library.”