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“Good night, Ivan,” I replied.
His hand tightened on my waist for a moment before walking to the door with Will and leaving without a backward glance. I stood still for a moment, unable to move, before I was jarred out of my reverie by Laney.
“God, Emmy, you two are the most fucking intense couple I have ever met! You guys act like you’re never going to see each other again with the long stares and dramatic goodbyes,” Laney said as she cleared half her wardrobe off her bed.
I gave her a weak smile, trying to shake myself out of the dour mood I had slipped into after watching Ivan grow more and more aloof. I walked to my dresser to pull out warmer pajamas. It wasn’t nearly hot enough to wear these.
As I changed, I felt the dried, flaky remnants of Ivan’s semen on my skin. A crazy part of me kind of wanted to leave it, loving having some part of him on me still, but it was itchy and uncomfortable and a little bit gross.
Thankfully, we had a small water cooler in our room, so I grabbed the same towel Ivan had thrust in my face and tugged my shorts down to surreptitiously wipe away the evidence of our passionate encounter. As I finished rubbing the wet cloth against my skin, I felt a flash of heat remembering the possessive, satisfied look on his face as he smeared it into my skin.
In my distracted state, I must have pulled the waistband down a little too far because Laney gasped. I turned my head to see that she was pulling on her own pajamas and could see what I’d been doing.
I frowned. “What?”
“Do you have a…bruise on your stomach?”
My face flushed and I quickly pulled up my pajama pants and threw the towel into the hamper. “It’s not a bruise,” I murmured as I hopped into my bed.
Delaney hooted as she followed suit. “A hickey? There? Just talking, my ass,” Laney said, giving another chuckle.
I smiled at her. “Okay, we did more than talk.”
She shot me a pointed look. “Obviously. Not that I believed you anyway. God, I’m exhausted,” she said and turned out the light next to her bed.
“Good night,” I said, rolling over to face the wall. I turned my nose into the pillow, happy to discover Ivan’s scent lingering on my sheets. I had always associated his scent with comfort and infatuation and protection, but now it had a more potent association.
I just hoped this wasn’t the last time I’d get to experience it.
Chapter 20
Ivan
I walked back to my car, trying to ignore Will’s annoying presence as he continued to give me shit. He’d been doing it since the minute we left Emmy’s room. My head was still spinning about what I’d allowed to happen. What I had eagerly encouraged. Twice. Fuck.
“I can’t believe you fucked Hannah’s sister. You better be prepared to get married because that girl looks like she’s all about commitment,” Will continued.
“Will you shut the fuck up? I didn’t fuck her,” I sniped, sick of hearing him, but especially triggered by his last comment. That was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid—the tentacles of commitment that I knew would inevitably coil around my neck if I ever fucked around with Emmy.
I could hardly place the blame on her—I was right there with her, putting my hands on her every chance I got, kissing her, touching every inch of her skin, fucking leaving a hickey on her body like some over-eager high school freshman hooking up with his first girl. Christ.
I took a deep breath to calm down, but all I could smell was her. Her scent was like a delicate, torturous fog reminding me how much I fucking loved touching her, watching her writhe in pleasure, hearing her moan my name as she came—and how fucking stupid and weak I was.
Knowing no one had ever had their hands on her was also a double-edged sword that was eating away at me. Her limited experience would create an unavoidable attachment to me, but fuck if the knowledge didn’t make me that much more desperate to have her. And now that I had touched her all it made me want to do was keep her to myself. Tendrils of rage flared and writhed at the thought of another man putting his hands on her body.
But I had to resist. I had to.
Will just snorted and continued talking. “What’s the deal with her roommate? You think she’d be down for a casual hook up? I was trying to feel her out when I asked her to go back to my place, but she didn’t take me seriously. She also talks a mile a minute about just about anything and I barely got a word in edgewise,” he said with an indulgent chuckle.
“She had a boyfriend until tonight, but I’m not sure about her policy on one-night stands,” I replied and even though my response was sarcastic, I was eager to turn the conversation away from Emmy.
“She was fucking hot, but it’s weird hitting on a girl in school. I’ve been at this campus a ton with Katya, but never actually considered hitting on any of the girls.”
“That’s because Drago would’ve had your balls if anything happened to Katya while you were fucking off.”
“True. Delaney seems so young, though,” he said in a reflective voice.
I snorted. “You know some of those dancers you screw at The Trinity Club can’t be over twenty,” I reminded him.
