I contemplate leaving the library and standing him up, being gone when he arrives back in an hour, but something about that idea sours in my stomach. Ugh. Iwantto see him. Iwantto explore whatever this is. I want to believe in it and trust it. Ares has never made me feel like I’m a charity project or a science experiment gone wrong.
My scars don’t seem to repulse him, nor does this feel like morbid curiosity on his part. And it’s not like he needs to use me for sex—he has a horde of people lining up for that particular activity.
I’m not an idiot. He’s a player both on and off the ice and probably has a new lover each day of the week. But something warm is growing in my chest at the idea that he wants to spend some of his time with me despite all that.
Studying isn’t going to happen now—my brain is mush. I can’t go home and change my clothes because he’ll know I changed them for him. And I don’t want to flee. So, I grab my phone and text the one person who’ll know what to do.
Eloise: SOS.
Victoria: He found you then.
My jaw drops open on a gasp, and I’m not really sure how to answer that.
Eloise: I’m going to need more information.
Victoria: Casanova came to Bitches Brew looking for you.
Eloise: So you… what? Pinged me on friend-finder and gave him my coordinates?
Victoria: That made me laugh. You know technology and I don’t get along. No. I told him you were in the library (lucky guess). He seemed like he really wanted to spend time with you.
Eloise: And you just… sent him to me?
Victoria: After I threatened to feed his pee-pee to sharks if he hurt you, sure.
That makes me snort, which draws a few more shhhh sounds from those around me. This isn’t like me at all. I’m not a noisy library goer. I respect the rules and reverence of the building, and I take my studies very seriously.
That said, I have to admit there’s a lightness, a giddy flurry in my chest at this whole situation. A handsome guy went looking for me, and my best friend threatened to injure his person if he hurt me. That’s nice, kind of big. I never really had that “my friend likes you” thing in high school, and I certainly don’t get ditzy over guys.
But this one. He’s… different.
It’s not necessarily a good different either. I’m not one to go for bad boys, but this one’s a motorcycle and some leathers away from being a typical bad boy romance hero. There’s definitely a thrill that comes from having his attention, and I sort of hate the way that feels. It’s icky.
And Idefinitelydon’t want him to kiss me again.
My stomach clenches. Fine. That’s a bald-faced lie. I do. I want him to kiss me again, and again and part of me wouldn’t care if he splayed me out on this table right here in the library and did… things to me. Even with the shushers watching.
Welp. Now my body is on fire. It’s hot all over, and everyone around me might know what I’m thinking about. To be fair, they’re probably all thinking about bedding Ares de la Peña too.
Victoria: You still there?
Victoria: Are you doing naughty things with the naughty boy?
Victoria: Get it girl. Ride that stallion.
I groan into my palm.
Eloise: I’m not getting anything. He’s coming back in an hour so we can chat.
Victoria: Chat? Is that like, code? For you sitting on his face?
Wow. She really went there. And now it’s front and center in my mind. My already hot body climbs another couple degrees. My last boyfriend hated going down on girls…or maybe it was only me he had a problem with. Either way, I haven’t had someone’s tongue down there in longer than I care to remember.
I’ve only had one guy ever eat me out, my buttface ex. And it was kinda… sloppy. I’m not sure he really knew how to find a clitoris either. And Lord knows he never tried any of my suggestions or seemed to want to fix the error of his ways. Those were… frustrating times.
And even the thought of Ares’s tongue… there… well, now Idefinitelycan’t concentrate on whatever it was I was doing before he got here.
Victoria: Thinking about it now, aren’t you?
