“Red?” I call out.
Rumbling thunder is my response.
“Red?” I say again.
“Over here,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.
“Okay.” She must be on the bed, I think, as I remember the layout of the room. “You left your jacket in the bathroom. I’m gonna leave it on the nightstand. Which one do you want it on?”
“Here,” she says, and before I can respond, she’s standing in front of me, taking the wet, heavy jacket from me. Her body heat is massive and hits me in soft waves. I want to step forward, do something, but I’m frozen as I hear the jacket thud to the ground.
“What are you…?” My voice is rough, low.
“Shut. Up. Prep.” Her words are harsh, but her palms cradling my face are soft.
My body stiffens as she pushes to her toes, barely meeting my eyes on a level playing field. I wrap my arms loosely around her and gasp under my breath. She isn’t wearing any clothes. I look down to her and bite my lip at her black bra and red panties.
“Can I confess something?” I ask, and thunder cracks outside the window beside us. The moonlight pours in and bashfully dances across her open lips, her lip ring, and her heated gaze.
“Mhmm…” is her reply.
Her breath is warm, lips barely tracing mine. My heart hammers like a hummingbird under my skin, and I can feel hers doing the same thing against my chest. Her skin is warm like the sun, smooth like silk. My hands drop lower, lower. Her breath catches, gaze shading darker.
“I want to kiss you right now,” I say.
She leans forward, lips sliding, brushing my skin against my ear. “Then do it,” she whispers, kissing my earlobe gently.
The second she pulls back…I do.
Chapter Fifteen
My heart can barely contain itself. She intakes air sharply the same time I groan slightly. Our mouths drop open simultaneously, and I taste her all at once. My heart swoons and crashes at the same time. Her mouth tastes so good, so intoxicating. Cigarettes, and strawberries, and a cool, crisp mint rests between her full lips and tongue. Her metal tongue is cold as I slide my tongue against it, tugging gently with my teeth.
Lust and excitement and a foreign feeling buzzes through my veins. Electricity sparks as she tugs at my hair, then slowly glides her nails down my spine. I grunt in her mouth and push forward. I turn quickly, and we hit the bed sideways. She straddles me. I deepen the kiss. Fisting her hair, I tug back until our mouths glide against each other. She makes a groaning sound of frustration at the loss of contact, but it’s quickly replaced by a moan as I suck on her long neck gently. Then harshly. Then softly, and repeat until she’s grinding against me.
“Fuck, Red,” I say in a low voice, clutching her hips as she rolls them against mine.
“Keep…mmm, Noah,” is her throaty, soft reply.
I feel so energized and aware of the little gasp she does when I react to this present situation…but she doesn’t make fun of me or tease me. She moans and kisses my chin, then under my chin, silently telling me to kiss her on the mouth again. I don’t hesitate to smash my lips on hers. To hold her face and deepen the kiss. Our tongues graze, and we both moan at the same time, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. I want to hear it again and again and—
She rubs herself against me, long and hard and slow. Every cell in my body explodes and constricts and bursts into flames. I flip her onto her back, pinning her to the bed. I stare down at her as we take deep breaths. Her dark blue eyes tell me what I’m thinking: if we go any further, neither of us will be able to hold back. Not one damn bit.
“Do you…do you want this, Red? Do you want me?” I ask her. I have to. I can’t just force myself on her, no matter how willing she seems. I wouldn’t ever do anything to her without her consent. That isn’t who I am.
Cheeks flushed and eyes dilated, she nods and pulls me on top of her. “Yes, now shut up and come here.” She slides a hand around the back of my neck and brings me down. Her lips are soft and her tongue is warm against mine.
Pulling away shortly, I brush my fingertips against her cheek and ask, “What is this, Red?”
“I don’t…can we not totally fuck up the moment?” is her husky, lustful reply. She brings me back to her mouth, and I groan deeply. She moans lightly, her knee brushing my hip. I grab the back of her knee and wrap it around my waist; she kisses me harder. Her lips taste like cherry lip-balm, her tongue of addicting Marlboro cigarettes.
We roll around, hands wandering, body heat mingling together. I can hardly breathe at one point. Then I’m breathing roughly against her warm neck. Her tattoos glow under the moonlight, and I sit back and just admire every curve and line and blemish like an art piece.
“Stop with the staring. Jeesh,” she groans before pulling me onto her.
When I lean down, she chuckles as my hands grope her stomach, fingers tickling gently. I want a laugh out of her. I want to feel her rumble in glee.
She giggles, and it is the most beautiful sound. I grin as she covers my neck with her mouth. Each lick and nibble elicits a moan from me. More tickling and more groans suppressing laughter.
“Noah!” she cries, feet kicking near my thighs.
“Rossa.” My voice is deep as I lather her skin with my kisses, calling out her name in Italian. My tongue rolls, and she purrs a moan.
“Mmm, Noah.” She drags her fingers up my back.
I can feel goosebumps form at her fingertips. My mind is telling me that we should discuss what this is, what we are…but I push that voice to the back of my mind, lock it up, and throw away the key. There’s nothing more important than tasting my Red. Kissing my Red. Savoring my Red.
Sometime later, I’m holding her to my chest, eyes half-open. I don’t even know when it happened, but we tired each other out just by kissing and teasing and laughing. And I go to sleep safe and sound, all because of the girl named Red purring in content in my arms.
Chapter Sixteen
A flash of warmth and whispered giggles and moans wake me up the next morning. My brain is foggy, and I try to push past the thick foliage in search of something. I can’t remember, not even as I push and push. So I focus on the flood of heat running through my skin. Opening my heavy eyes, they land on dirty windows and the sun blaring through them.
Weird. My bedroom doesn’t have windows like that, I think with unease.
Sitting up in the creaky king bed, I look around carefully. It takes a few seconds of me assessing my surroundings to understand and remember where I am. The motel we washed up in because of the storm.
We.
Red and I.
Memories of her warm lips on mine, feeling her soft skin, and hearing her heavenly moans fill my head. My neck aches, and as I rub it, I remember her clutching it. Nails digging gently, rubbing my shoulders, my chest. Her hands were greedy as we rolled around in this bed. I clutch the sheets and can’t even help the lazy smile that washes over me. I didn’t see that coming. At all. But I want to relive it until it gets creepy. I want to feel her again.
I feel giddy. A wire of warmth spreads through my cheeks, traveling under my skin. Each thought of her smiling, looking blissful, whispering my name, kissing my lips, her cold lip ring—they make me feel different than I’ve ever felt with any other girl I’ve been with. They make me—she makes me—feel alive.
The bathroom door creaks open, and she walks out. She’s topless and wearing jeans. It’s suddenly hard to breathe. Just one look at her creamy skin exposed in front of me keeps my breath hostage. It’s going to take some time getting used to this. That is, if we continue doing what we did last night. Which I am still confused over.
I want to ask her what the hell it was, but I also don’t want to shatter the moment in my head, letting reality sink in and ruin everything. So I keep my mouth shut and just stare at her. And she stares back. The air is suddenly incredibly thick. She begins to play with her lip ring. Remembering the coolness as it pressed into me, as I tugged at it
with my teeth…I fidget uncomfortably and run a hand over my hair.
“Morning,” I say, breaking the thick silence.
Her mouth opens but then quickly snaps shut, concealing what she really wants to say. “We should go. I hiked to the auto shop—wasn’t far—and fixed the car,” she explains in a monotone voice.
“You should have woken me up. I would have went with you,” I tell her, and she bites her lip. My gaze lingers on her mouth, and I fidget some more.
“Wasn’t necessary,” she says, then pauses. The air is tickling with a buzz of unsaid words, unmoved feet, unsparked wandering hands. “We should go,” she repeats in a firm tone and moves to her shirt and socks on the dresser. She hurriedly pulls on her thin shirt, then shrugs on her jacket. All the while, I stare at her, trying to figure out what she’s thinking. How she’s feeling. But her face is expressionless—angry, if anything.
Noticing me standing still, she spins around and spits, “Will you move your fucking feet? I have to be somewhere and—”
“What happened last night?” I ask her, slicing through her harsh words. Her mouth quivers slightly, and her eyes widen. Something flashes across them. Her face grows soft for a split second before something in her mind clicks, and she turns back to the dresser.
“Nothing,” she says in a low voice.
“Liar,” I say and slowly walk over to her. She stiffens, noticing my presence, but doesn’t run or push away or hit me. She just stays still, her breathing hard, my hand sliding down her arm. My fingertips create a spark when they dance on hers, and I hear a sharp intake of breath from her. “Last night wasn’t nothing. And you know that, so why are you trying to act like it didn’t even happen?”
“Because it meant nothing,” she claims.
“Bullshit.”
“It didn’t mean anyt—” she begins to scream.
“Stop lying, Red!” I shadow her voice, and she pushes at me. I stumble back, and we both try to catch our breaths, chests heaving and cheeks blotchy and red. I rack my brain, doing a play-by-play of last night’s events, and I grow even more angry as it’s so freaking clear she wanted me. “You were the one who came on to me, not the other way around. You were the one who told me to kiss. I asked if you wanted me, and you said yes. So why are you acting like it didn’t happen?” I rant and gasp for air.
She’s clutching her hair and keeping silent. It’s frustrating me with each silent second that whizzes by, stealing my breath more and more.
“Answer me, Red! What the hell happened in the past few hours that you don’t want me?” I shout, my voice rattles as I try to get her to react. Look at me. Speak. Explain herself. But she doesn’t do anything but stare at the ground. Why isn’t she reacting to me? Am I that invisible to her now? For whatever freaking reason? Did I imagine last night? Have a wet dream or something? Questions flood my mind, but none are being answered, and it makes me want to rip my hair out.
“Red, please.” My voice drops as I plead. I sound so pathetic, and I hate it. I’ve never been this way before. I’m usually confident, especially around girls. I have never pleaded to a girl before; I never had to. But here I am, begging a girl to say something, anything to me. This is insane, and I don’t know what to do. Especially since she isn’t giving me anything to go on.
I take a step to her, to reach out for her hands, but she holds them up to her chest and stares me in the eyes. There’s something in there, reaching for me, and I want to grab on and pull it out. Translate it on her parted lips and fill the air with an explanation. But the moment I read her eyes, they glaze over with a barrier, and she steps away from me. My heart cracks a little with each step.
“Stay here if you want…but I’m leaving,” she says, then grabs her keys off the dresser and storms out of the room, slamming the door after her.
I stand here trying to figure out what the hell just happened when frustration builds up, and I kick the dresser. I grip the edge of it and try to catch my breath. She doesn’t get to just take off without talking to me. This isn’t fair. I push away from the dresser and chase after her.
The air outside is chilly and makes my teeth chatter. Stopping at the parking space I vaguely remember Red pulling into last night, I strangely find it…empty. I begin to panic, but then I think of last night and assure myself that she wouldn’t just leave me. Even if she’s convinced it meant nothing. That’d be insane since I wouldn’t have a ride back or even know where the hell I am. She wouldn’t do that, I tell myself. I snag a seat on the bench in front of the spot and call her again. This time, I leave a voicemail. She’s just driving off her anger, I tell myself. She has to be.
As the minutes pass by, each with more stomach-crunching worry, the thought of her not coming back from wherever she is crosses my mind like a whirlwind of worry. The more and more I think of her not coming, the sicker to my stomach I become. I put it off and ignore Rachel’s call ringing my phone, my stomach growing tighter and the irony clouding my thoughts. As more time goes on, an hour to be exact, I end up answering, wondering what the hell I was thinking last night.
“Hey…” I say, rubbing my eyes. “Can you do me a favor?”
***
The ride back to campus is silent, with the exception of Rachel asking if I’m okay every ten seconds that go by. I keep telling her that I’m fine, that maybe she was just at the auto body shop, but she would have left me a note or text or something. Not just vanish in thin air.
Rachel slows in front of the frat house but surprisingly doesn’t ask if I’m fine or say anything at all. I appreciate it because, as we were driving back, my heart was peeling away with each thought of her. It isn’t even that she left me without any notice; it’s the fact that she did it after we had our…moment the night before.
Did I break some frail bond or understanding between us? If so, she was the one who pursued me.
“Hey.” Rachel squeezes my shoulder, holstering a gentle smile. “It’s good that you saw her true colors before you fell in too deep.”
“Right…” I give her an equally soft smile, but inside my head I think, Too bad I already did fall.
A few hours later, I’m at the fraternity house, still dazed and confused and so freaking frustrated. And angry. All the emotions collide and form one large lump in my throat. I swallow thickly to get it away a few times, but each time I try, it hurts, and her voice lying to me fills me. So I stop trying to get rid of the lump and focus on whatever it is I’m painting. It could be a sunrise or a couple dancing or nothing at all, and I’ve just lost my mind at the hands of Red Sylvetti. Even thinking her name gives me sharp pains in my stomach.
I just don’t understand. No matter how many times I roll the events of the past twenty-four hours in my head, I will never understand. Last night, we shared something incredible and mind-blowing and right. Nothing felt forced or wrong. If anything, I’ve never felt more myself, more secure…more alive. I don’t know if it makes me weak to say, but being with her in that moment made things fall into one perfect mirage. It was like she breathed life—actual life—into me, and I never wanted it to end.
And I know she felt the same way. I saw it in the way she looked at me through her eyelashes. Felt it under her fingernails. Heard it through her moans and hushed whispers of my name.
So why is she acting like it didn’t mean anything?
Why do I feel so heartbroken, when Rachel and even Mike spouted warnings?
Why can’t I breathe right now?
Why, why, why?
Unable to hold the brush with shaky hands, I let it fall on the easel. I move my hands around my face, pinching and rubbing, then migrate them to my hair. I tug and lean against the wall. I’m in my room, and Ty’s across the room, working on an assignment, loud music pouring out of his headphones. He’s seen my frustration through my grunts and long sighs and asked me to speak about it, but I turned his offer down. Told him I just needed to distract myself before I go crazy. But the distraction’s just making me go even more m
ad.
“Hey, Noah,” a voice says. Shifting my hands to my knees, I look at the door and find Mike peeking his head in, then pushing the door open.
“What’s up?” I sound tired. I am, but not physically—emotionally.
His expression is empathetic as he says, “Me and some of the guys are going bowling. I was wondering if you wanted to tag along?”
“I’m coming.” Ty yanks his headphones out of his ears and jogs over to Mike. “I’ve had my head dug into that calculus textbook way too long. I need a damn break.”
“I don’t know…” I say even though I have absolutely nothing else to do. Truth is, I’m waiting for Red to call or text with some explanation. For her to tell me that she just freaked out and last night actually meant something, more than she wants to admit. A massive part of me knows the chances of that happening is slim to nothing. But the minuscule side…I can’t help but cling to that little part that has an infinity of hope.
My phone buzzes, and I snatch it up a little too quickly to reclaim my dignity. But it has to be her, and I can’t waste any time. I am losing myself with each minute that passes by.
“I told you Red is a complex girl. If you just give her some time…she’ll come around,” Mike assures me, but I’m too busy staring at the picture sent via text. “Noah?” he calls when I don’t blink for maybe hours, seconds, days? I don’t know. I can’t tell because of how much I am losing my mind on the inside.
Sent by an unknown person is a picture of Red kissing Tanner…and it was taken just an hour ago.
“Yo, you okay? You look unhealthily pale…” Ty says.
“I’m fine.” I click off my phone and hop up. “You said bowling, right? I haven’t bowled in so long. Hope you guys are prepared to have your asses whooped.” I keep a cheer in my voice to mask the raw pain hidden in my throat—it’s that damn lump, and it’s growing and growing until it even hurts to breathe.
Red: Burning Desire (Spectrum Series Book 7) Page 11
