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“Yeah,” he snorted, lowering his voice as I came closer. “I could tell.”
A hundred thundering heartbeats later, we stood inches apart. Elliot raised his eyebrows, stretching out against the wall even more. Heknewhe was godly, that his body mirrored Michelangelo’s David, theDiscobolusof Myron, fucking King Odysseus himself, every Greek ideal of the highest sensual order.
I smiled sweetly at him. Then my hand darted out, grabbing his cock through the material of his Speedo. Digging my nails into his bulk, I yanked him forward.
“What the fuck?” Elliot hissed.
He crashed against me, and I kept him there for a moment before shoving him back, pinning him against the wall.
“Well?” he said, burning holes deep into my eyes. “Go ahead.”
I wanted to.
I wanted to grab him by the neck and sink my teeth into the scales of his dragon tattoo, claw my fingers through his storm of curls, hold his hand in mine and shove it up my own skirt.
But most of all, I wanted to beat his fucking brains out.
Instead, I let go of his shoulders. Without breaking my eyes from his gaze, I pulled on the elastic waistband of his trunks, and dipped my other hand past the thin fabric until the tips of my fingers brushed against his cock.
He let out a heavy breath. I wrapped my hand around his shaft—it was thick, full, heat coursing like lightening through his skin. I started pumping, my hand trembling as it slid up and down his shaft. Heat rushed down my belly.
This couldn’t have been real.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his hands ghosting up my arms. “What… are you…”
If he wanted me to stop, he could’ve stopped me. He had the advantage of being a foot taller than me and having muscles that could match David Beckham’s come next semester in college. He could’ve pushed me to the ground, slapped me,pulverizedme with one glance. But he did nothing.
Just as well.
I wasn’t here to backtalk him or explain myself.
Suddenly, I stopped handling him as he gasped, his nails slicing into my shoulders. I waited for him to look up at me, and as soon as we made eye contact, dragged my nails along the length of his shaft. Liquid heat surged between my fingers.
Panting, he dropped his hands from my shoulders, collapsing against the wall. I slipped my hand out of his trunks, and he flinched as I snapped the elastic band back against his waist.
Revenge felt so sweet.
“Thanks for an unforgettable four years,” I whispered, leaning into his ear. “Asshole.”
1
Welcome to my new life in three, two…
One.
I let out the breath I was holding as I pushed open the door of my dorm room to a girl with crimped blonde hair, pink lipstick and an off-shoulder crop top. Her hand rested on the inside door handle.
“You must be Kathleen,” she said, smiling as she looked me up and down—at my purple-dyed hair, oversized hoodie and fishnet stockings. Then frowned.
“Yeah,” I replied, replicating her grin. “And you’re—”
“Vivian,” she replied, sticking on that hot pink smile again. “My friends call meVivi.”
I smiled back. “My friends call me Kat.”
Vivian stepped back from the door, allowing me to step into the room. “Well, we’re roomies now, so all labels are blurred now, anyway.”
“Ha,” I laughed weakly, raising my eyebrows as I dragged my duffel bag into the cramped space. Based on the tone of her voice, I certain that how we’d label one another in the coming weeks would be anything but ‘friends’. At the end of the day, we’d just have to put up with one another. That was that.
