Tempting - Lucian Alex. Страница 11

After checking my email for the fiftieth time that day, I gave myself a little pep talk.

Nathan does not have the only dick in town, Adele. Quit acting like it and catch another one.

But upon surveying the choices in front of me, I remembered why I pursued the older guys, the ones with a hint of darkness, the esoteric men in a sea of predictable dudes with predictable habits. Guys who bought you a drink and acted like it bought them a ticket to your vagina. Who thought their mouths served one purpose. Men who treated the bedroom like a race instead of an amusement park.

Just the thought of Nathan effortlessly flipping me from my knees to my back and sliding inside of me in one breath caused my arms to erupt in goosebumps. I leaned against the counter as Leo greeted a few of his teammates and brought a hand to my neck, where Nathan had bitten me. If I closed my eyes, I could remember his five-o-clock shadow scraping my sensitive flesh before his teeth bit down, releasing some pent-up primitive need within me. I’d launched myself on him every time he pulled away, legs and arms winding around him.

He made me want to be savage. He made me hungry for something I didn’t know I needed, something I knew I wouldn’t find at this party.

And as much as I’d thought being his student gave me an advantage, it most certainly didn’t. Because seeing him in such a professional atmosphere all week while my fingers had gripped my pen to the point of discomfort, left me aching for the night we’d had, the night that had ended too soon.

“Add,” Leo’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “This is Jeremy.”

Jeremy smiled at me, no doubt expecting me to collapse in a puddle of hormones over his baby blues and dimples. “Hey,” he said, looking me up and down.

“Hi,” I replied, not batting an eyelash. I glanced at Leo and gave him a Nope, not happening look before turning around and pouring a refill.

“Leo says you’re a Creative Writing major.”

Fucking Leo. If Leo thought this guy was remotely my type, he was assuming I was either 1) super drunk, 2) super desperate or 3) not the real Adele, the Adele who didn’t go after college dudes who reeked of drugstore cologne.

“Sure am,” I said, tipping back the vodka.

“That’s cool.”

I barely resisted rolling my eyes. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m still undecided.” He bobbed his head in a weird nodding way and looked around the room. “Five year plan, yeah.” When I said nothing to that, he seemed to take my silence as an invitation to tell me all about his life. “My dad threw some money at me and told me to go to school, so I’m kind of just going with the flow, ya know, partying it up and stuff.”

Leo was out of his goddamn mind.

There wasn’t anything wrong with an undecided major, a person going to school with no direction. But it was so completely opposite of my situation that it felt like Leo was trying to piss me off.

“Must be nice,” I commented, keeping my true thoughts to myself.

“Oh, yeah. It’s something to do at least.”

I thought of my tiny, practically barren apartment, my long hours at the cafe, and the scorn of my entire family for choosing to go to college for what they called a throwaway degree. “Why do you need to go to school to write? Didn’t you learn that in first grade?” It was the same thing they always asked, the entire reason I hadn’t gone home for dear daddy’s birthday and had chosen to go to this party instead. So I could talk to this guy about how bored he was living on daddy’s money.

Great choice, Adele.

Around the fifth generous shot of vodka, Jeremy was talking about his football stats. I made out something about one hundred yards rushing just as I tossed back the sixth shot and started feeling the warmth of the alcohol not only affecting my jelly limbs, but also my judgement.

Jeremy wasn’t so bad, I thought. A second later, Nathan’s stupid face popped in my head, his lips curved the way they’d been when he’d gone down on me.

“You want it?” he’d asked, breathing over my pussy. I’d squirmed, nodding furiously. “Do you?” he’d asked again. “Let me hear you.”

“Yes!” I’d screamed, writhing wildly underneath him.

“My favorite word,” he’d whispered as his mouth touched me where I’d wanted him so desperately.

“Yes.” I hadn’t realized the word escaped my lips until the image of Nathan blurred, revealing the significantly less appealing Jeremy. His chapped lips split into a grin.

What the fuck had I said yes to?

He leaned forward, placing a hand on the counter beside me.

Oh, no.

And then he started leaning in, his beer breath encroaching on my space, inch by inch.

Fuck, fuck, mother fucking fuck.

As Jeremy’s mouth descended toward mine, my hands nervously shot up, my fist coming in contact with his nose as vodka spilled all over our faces.

Chapter Ten

“Get up.”

The voice was a million miles away, pulling me from my nightmare. I cracked my eyelids open a fraction, letting in the tiniest ray of light.

“Mother fuck,” I croaked, throwing an arm over my eyes and reaching for my blankets.

“No, just Leo.”

I groaned, pulling the comforter harder over my face. I felt his hands pulling it, but I wouldn’t let go.

“Leave me alone,” I whined.

“I hope you feel terrible.”

“You have no idea,” I mumbled under the comforter. A thousand elephants ran across my skull. “What the fuck happened last night?”

“You got black-out drunk.”

I sighed, let go of the comforter when Leo gave it another tug. “Was I a mess?” I slowly opened one eye, winced and covered the other eye. Leo stood beside my bed in the clothes he’d worn the night before.

“Um, yeah.” He nodded, pursing his lips, looking up as if in contemplation. “I thought you couldn’t top the time you barfed in their fridge, but I appeared to have underestimated your ambition.” He reached a hand for me. “Come on, I got you coffee and a croissant sandwich from that artery-clogging bakery downstairs.”

Greasy food and coffee = cure for even the worst hangovers.

I tumbled out of the bed, literally, holding onto the wall for support. I looked down, taking in my pants and shirt from the night before and was hit with the overall stench of vomit that permeated my clothing. “Fuck,” I muttered.

“What do you remember?” Leo asked after I’d sat at my tiny counter and sucked down half my coffee.

“I remember Jeremy trying to plant one on me and,” I closed my eyes and touched my forehead, “I think I splashed vodka all over him.”

“Uh yeah, all over both of you. And then you needed me to wash it out of your eyes and then you started talking about how you said yes but not to him and he had no life plan and it wasn’t your fault.”

Groaning, I dropped my head into my hands. “What else?” I knew more was coming.

“Well, you broke his nose. I think on accident, not that he didn’t deserve it.”

I almost smiled, but I knew that wasn’t all. I braced myself, eyes pinched tight. “And then?”

“I got you out of there as fast as I could, but you ended up falling in the yard and that’s when the vomit started. It was almost impressive, Exorcist-style.”

I still held my head in my hands, unable to look Leo in the face. “Did I puke on you?”

“Yeah.” I lifted my head, taking in his clothes. “My shoes,” he said, pointing to the bag hanging on my doorknob.

“Oh, God. I’m sorry.”

Leo shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “Not a big deal. But I need to get going. I wanted to make sure you weren’t comatose before I left.”