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Even though there were many.
“Do you understand?” he repeated.
“Yes,” I muttered petulantly.
“Good.” He straightened and looked down on me, his eyes still full of warning. “I’m done with that part of our...relationship. Whatever the hell this is.”
“I thought you made that clear on my birthday. It’s nothing and never will be.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “You’re not the only one confused here, Lex.”
“Well what do you think this is?” I asked softly. My eyes fell on his hand wrapped tightly around his backpack strap. It was the same hand that had been holding the paddle.
I shivered. This guy knew intimate parts of me—both physically and emotionally. In some ways, he knew more about me than anyone else.
His finger moved under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. “It’s not up to me. It never has been.”
I swallowed. “I like you.”
His lips twitched. “I already know that, sweetheart. That’s not what I mean.”
I glanced to my right at the stream of people walking past. Some paused mid-stride to check us out. That’s what it would be like if Ian and I were to start a “relationship”: constant gawkers and bitchy girls that didn’t think I was good enough for him.
“Look at me.”
My head snapped to face him again, and he smiled. He was completely unaware of the people around us, his eyes only on me.
“What do you mean by it’s never been up to you?” I whispered.
He reached out and trailed a finger along my jaw. “I have no control over how I feel about you. From the moment I saw you rushing toward me orientation day, I’ve wanted you. Intensely. Forgive the TMI in my next sentence, but repeated ministrations in the shower have done nothing to relieve that.”
My mouth dropped open and he chuckled.
“I like everything about you,” he continued in a low voice, his fingers moving to trail along my arm. “From your tiny arms and legs to that skittish look in your eye just before you run. But I don’t want you to run from me anymore.”
I didn’t want to either. All I wanted was to give into the urges I felt between us.
“So it’s worth the risk.” He took a deep breath. “Come to my place tonight. Nine. We’ll work on that group project.”
“I was hoping it would be more one-on-one instruction,” I said, the anticipation rushing through my veins making me brave. “You know, like a tutoring session.”
“Tutoring in what, exactly?”
I looked up at him through my lashes. “Whatever you want to teach me.”
He inhaled roughly. “There are a lot of things I want to teach you.”
I bit my lip and reached out, slipped my hand under his shirt to feel the treasure trail of hair along his lower stomach. He tensed at my touch, his breath increasing.
“I’m counting on that.”
“Shit,” he breathed and grasped my hand, removing it from his stomach. “That’s so not fair. We’re in the middle of the damn hallway.” His voice was deep, husky.
I’d entirely forgotten. Around us people had slowed their walk, watching and waiting to see what would happen next. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and looked up at him before leaving.
“See you at nine.”
***
I was a nervous wreck. Gone was the confident girl—no, woman—from the hallway, and in her place was the regular Alexis Watson: tiny, shy, and completely inexperienced.
I stood in front of the mirror in my room and cocked my head to the side. Instead of my usual jeans and chucks, I was wearing a jean skirt and sandals. It was the beginning of October but the weather was still warm, and tonight of all nights I wanted to look feminine. I’d fussed with my hair until it bugged me just looking at it, and then tied it up in a ponytail.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my bag full of History of Music materials and headed out the door. I felt guilty, carrying my school stuff as a cover when I was really going to meet Ian and...what exactly? I hadn’t really thought it through. All I knew was that I wanted him. I was eighteen now, and there was nothing holding me back. I liked Ian—a lot—and from the way he reacted around me, I was pretty damn certain he liked me too. There wasn’t anything else I needed to consider beyond that.
My limbs began to vibrate with excitement as I neared his door. In the RC lounge, Candice and Paul were locked in a game of foosball. Candice saw me and smiled briefly before returning her focus to the game.
See? No one cares what you’re doing.
I held the strap of my messenger bag tighter and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he called, sounding casual and upbeat.
With a quick glance at the other RCs, who were still lost in their game, I turned the handle and stepped in. Ian was in the kitchen cleaning dishes in the sink, a towel slung over his shoulder. His tight T-shirt accentuated the muscles that rippled along his back as he wiped the towel over the pot and placed it upside down on the drying tray.
“Sorry, just finishing up.” He turned and leaned back against the counter, gripping the edges with both hands. His gaze raked over me from head to foot and he smiled in approval. “You look sexy.”
I smiled and ducked my head shyly. “Thanks. I brought these summer clothes and realized I haven’t been wearing them.”
“I like the skirt.”
I stepped further into the kitchen, still gripping my bag tightly. My legs felt weaker than usual, jelly-like. I was aware of his eyes as they roamed over me, pausing slightly on my bare legs. It was a decent sized kitchen with a small circular table and a large closet with a washer and dryer. I was instantly jealous.
Ian straightened and held out his hand. “Come, I’ll give you the tour. Though it will be very short.”
I took his hand and his warm strong fingers engulfed mine. Shivers tingled up my arm from his touch, and I wondered if he felt it too.
“So you’ve seen the study,” he said as we passed through. “If you want to, you can put your bag down on my desk.”
I paused to do so and he took my hand again before leading me into the next room.
Everything changed when we stepped into his bedroom. It was as if the air was different. The tension rose between us, accentuating our every movement. I could feel his heartbeat through the palm of his hand and when he spoke, his voice was deep and husky.
The room was massive. Directly in front of us was a Queen bed with matching dark wood night tables, and on a stand beside the bed were two guitars. To the left of the bedroom was a separate living room area with a leather couch and large, flat screen television. Resting on the couch was a silver MacBook Air.
I released Ian’s hand almost reluctantly and walked into the center of the room, taking it all in. “Wow, this is a really nice place.”
“It is,” he agreed.
“Is this your furniture?” I asked, running my hand along the sleek wood of his headboard. It was so masculine and so grown up for a college student. In fact, all of his furniture was. If I didn’t know he and his family had money before, I would have known it now.
“Yes.” He was behind me, his breath warm on the back of my neck. He leaned in and pressed his lips to my exposed skin. “Everything in this room is mine.”
I shivered and turned to face him, suddenly finding it hard to look him in the eye. Before I could think it through, I asked, “How many...girls have been in here?”
The corner of his mouth quirked up and his hand moved to the back of my head, his fingers entwining themselves in my hair. “Only you.”
I sucked in a breath. My hand went to his forearm, suddenly craving his support to stand. As if sensing this, he walked us to his couch, moved his laptop out of the way. He sat down on the leather surface and pulled me between his legs. At his gentle guidance, I sunk to my knees on the soft carpet in front of him, and then his lips were on mine, his hands on my back pulling me close.
All my nervousness left me then as I returned his kiss, our breathing becoming one. I longed to grasp his dark waves, to pull his mouth closer to mine if it was possible. My hands moved under his shirt again, exploring his warm flesh and tight muscle. Mouth still on his, I pushed his shirt up his sides and over his head, tossed it on the ground beside us.
“Now it’s your turn, sweetheart.” His hands moved to the hem of my shirt and he paused. I nodded slightly and slowly, gently, he peeled the fabric over my head until I was wearing only my black bra and skirt.
“I love your skin,” he said, running his fingers over the goosebumped flesh of my arms. “It’s so soft.”
I eyed the hardness of his chest, realizing how opposite we were. Tall, short. Large, small. Hard, soft. With Kevin these differences had scared me, mostly because I hadn’t been attracted to him. With Ian it was completely different—I found myself wanting to let myself go. To give myself to him.
He sat back on the couch and eyed me, his eyes darkening as his fingers went to the button on his jeans.
“I think you owe me.”
My mouth felt suddenly dry and I licked my lips. I knew exactly what he was referring to: the night I’d run out on him.
