LISA
When I left the club, the air was cold and crisp. My breath puffed white. Outside, I could breathe.
I looked around for Jennie and spotted her at the far end of the brick wall fronting the club. Neon lights blinked off her profile and made her dark hair glow red. No one else was nearby.
She clutched her hair, then let go, rubbing her temples. I watched and waited, silent in the shadows.
Unzipping her purse, she reached in and came out with a handful of something. When she tossed it in her mouth, I tensed.
Pills? She was jittery some nights when she came to my room, and I doubted the jumpiness was only because of me.
As she chewed, her shoulders visibly relaxed. A bag caught the light, sticking out of her purse, and when she reached back in, I recognized the logo and the colorful candy. Gummy bears. She gulped another handful and chewed like nothing else could take away the stress.
I thought about going to her. I knew about the ghosts of exes. And I knew about passing out on the floor.
At that moment, she pushed back her coat sleeve to check her watch. A secret smile crossed her face, lingering on her full lips. She tipped her head back again, but this time, as she exposed her throat, the move wasn't despairing. It was sensual.
One finger trailed down her neck. Slowly, her hand wrapped around her own throat. Her lips parted, and my cock stirred.
She was lost in an erotic fantasy.
If I approached her now — as a friend — it would destroy that fantasy and shred my boundaries. Our arrangement was cash and fucking only And I had little to offer when it came to friendship.
Her eyes snapped open. Determined now, she retrieved her phone from her purse and texted rapidly, then walked off in the direction of frat row. I watched her hips sway in tight jeans — athletic with a delectable overlay of softness.
As she disappeared between the trees, an arm touched mine. Perfume, heavy and sweet, weighed down the cold night air. Jennie's "friend" stood at my elbow.
"She's gone," Rosé commented, pursing her lips. She bent down to fix her boot buckle. Her long blonde hair brushed my sleeve. "She didn't know you were here, did she?"
I shrugged.
"She made such a big deal about leaving on time to meet you." Rosé ran her fingers through her hair, then let them trail along the sleeve of my coat. "You never hang out with us." She waited for a reaction and got none. "It's not like Jennie's ever around anymore either. We were supposed to room together this year, then she claimed her parents wouldn't let her. They refused to pay her rent if she lived with me! Can you believe that?"
"Yes."
She snorted. "Like I'm such a bad influence. She's the one who went apeshit last semester."
"What happened?"
She eyed me, deciding how much to say. "Not my story to tell."
"All right." I turned away, ready to leave.
"It was like she wanted to ruin her own life," Rosé said in a rush. "She started drinking a lot more, like a month before finals, and then she quit the cheer squad out of nowhere, dumped Kai — who has major social currency — and at the last party before winter break she aggressively made out with this older guy who doesn't even go to school here and she had to be rescued. That's supposed to be my MO! The point is, her parents don't think about me. And neither does she. She should know by now that I'm so much better when she's around."
Once upon a time, I would have found Rosé's pure selfishness attractive. Direct, magnetic, even arousing. When someone was utterly self-serving, you knew where each of you stood, and they wouldn't look at you too closely. In Rome, I'd run toward that selfishness.
I should end this conversation.
Rosé was saying something about spring break. "…And we're all supposed to go to Florida, just us girls. We planned it months ago. Now she shows up and says, 'Sorry, I can't afford it, I'm trying to save.' Like, what is that? Friends are supposed to be there for each other. I need her on spring break. Who's going to take care of me?"
"You could try taking care of yourself."
"Nah." She slanted a smile towards me, like we were sharing a secret moment. "Too much work."
Shoving my hands in my coat pockets, I gave her a nod — more than she deserved for a goodbye — and stepped away from the wall.
"Hey!" she exclaimed. "You're leaving? We were talking."
Her hand came to rest on my shoulder. For all her brashness, she approached with caution. Her fluttering lashes belied her nerves.
I regarded her hand coolly, long enough to make the moment uncomfortable. "I'm meeting Jennie."
Her cheeks reddened, and she let go. "Come on, it's not eleven-thirty yet," she coaxed. "She ditched us, you can ditch her for a few minutes."
"It doesn't work that way."
When I got back to my room, Jennie was nowhere in sight. Pacing, I pushed down my impatience and need. She'd come, and when she did, I'd take my time with her.
A light tap-tap echoed off my bedroom door just before eleven-thirty.
I considered making her wait, to remind us both who was in control. But that phone call from Yoona had invaded my room, and after a pause, I opened the door.
Jennie walked in, peeling off her gloves, her cheeks rosy from the cold.
Pulling her to me, I swallowed her little startled "oh," a puff of breath against my mouth. Snowflakes melted when I twisted a hand in her hair. I cupped her jaw, squeezing until she yielded.
"Hello, gorgeous," I whispered.
She looked up at me with startled brown eyes. "Why does it make me nervous that you just gave a compliment?"
With other people, Jennie's voice was all bounce. How ARE you? It's so good to SEE you! With me, her voice was low and warm, with a sexy hesitation.
I caressed her back under her shirt, unhooking her bra. "Maybe you should ask yourself that."
I cupped the swell of her tit and pinched her tender little nipple over and over to hear her gasp. She cried out when I sucked hard on her neck. Christ, I wanted to bury myself in her and it was dangerous.
Getting her out of her clothes took seconds. Spread out below me on the bed, she was soft, hot, solid. Her long hair was the color of earth, scattered over the light brown expanse of her curves, marked by the darkness of her nipples and the little patch of hair between her legs — a strip of black I wanted to sink into and never leave.
"Perfect." I smiled at her nakedness. I kissed her, and she arched toward me as my lips moved down her skin. When I nipped her stomach, covering her pussy with my palm, she clutched my hair and closed her thighs around my hand.
I lifted my head. "Legs apart, sweetheart."
A shiver ran over her. We both knew damn well I'd never called her that before. She bit her lip. Slowly, she opened her thighs.
"More," I ordered.
Keeping her eyes on mine, she took a deep breath. Grasping her legs behind the knees, she pulled them open into a near-perfect split. I covered my surprise.
"Is that far enough for you?" Her embarrassment showed, tempered with a flash of pride.
"Still such a good cheerleader," I murmured. A host of complicated expressions crossed her face. I peeled open her swollen lips, flushed and slick with excitement, and blew on her tender clit.
"Lisa…" My name slipped from her mouth, halfway between a snarl and a plea, exactly how I craved it.
Very lightly, I ran my tongue over her rosy lips. I knew it embarrassed her to be eaten out.
"So beautiful." I stroked her, teasing her tight cunt with one finger. "So fucking wet and waiting."
She whimpered. Why was I pouring on the compliments?
"Angel," I whispered. I wasn't normally into that term of endearment. Angels were angels. Girls were girls. There was no intersection between the two.
She let out a thready breath. "I can't figure you out. Oh—" She thrust upward, her inhibitions fading as I pushed her arousal higher. I dragged my tongue over the pink petals of her cunt. The tightness in her thighs relaxed, and her hands clasped the back of my head. "Do you still want me to hate you?"
I didn't answer. Her clit was in my mouth, and her moans were beginning to spill over.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she panted.
I sucked harder.
Yoona never wanted me to be anything less than an asshole in bed — or anything more. What I was doing right now wouldn't have gotten her off. She would have been bored at best; repulsed at worst. She wanted to be treated like dirt, twisted and crushed beneath my shoe. But Jennie was quivering in my hands, her thighs shaking uncontrollably as I ate her out.
I cupped her ass, pulling back, and waited until her eyes, hot and shiny, locked on mine.
"Have I told you how beautiful you are?"
Her head jerked up. Her cheeks were red.
"Don't."
"What do you mean, don't?"
"Don't make fun of me that way. I know you like to push my buttons and fuck with my mind. But I'm not beautiful."
"Yes, you are."
"I—" her eyes darted away and back. "I at least trust you to tell me the truth. Before — I got compliments all the time, but I never actually believed them."
I stared up at her from between her legs. "I'm not your ex-boyfriend."
"I know that."
"Do you? I don't think you do. If I say you're beautiful, it's because you are."
She sucked in a breath, searching my face. There was so much wanting in her arched brows, her parted lips. I pinched the brown peak of her nipple, aiming for her sweet spot between pleasure and pain.
"Understood?"
Squeezing her eyes shut, she dipped her head.
"Say it. Say, 'Yes, Liss, I believe you. I'm beautiful.'"
"Jesus," she groaned. "No."
I slapped the inside of her thigh, just enough for her to feel the sting. She jumped. Her eyes went unfocused, and her lips twitched in the little smile that always gave her away. "I'm waiting."
"I can't say that."
When I twisted her nipple, she grabbed my wrist. Fuck, she was wet. Glistening in the lamplight. Her thighs were spread wantonly, her most private places exposed to me. "I just can't. You don't understand."
"I know this is hard for you." I gripped her hips and pulled her abruptly toward me, shooting down the sheets. She gasped, her body bucking to meet mine. "Everything here is hard for you, Jennie. Do what I tell you."
"You really don't get it. Girls aren't supposed to say that about themselves."
Grasping a fistful of her thick dark hair, so fucking alive and curling in my hand, I pushed my face next to hers. Heat rose from her skin.
"I don't give a fuck," I hissed, "about what girls are supposed to do or what girls are not supposed to do. Now, are you ready to tell me the truth?"
She panted, her breath coming rapidly.
"Yes, Lisa." Her eyes were two dark wells, beckoning me to drown. "I believe you. I'm beautiful."
"Say it again." I spread her open.
"I'm beautiful."
I dove in. She was hot and soft and so fucking juicy.
"Oh my God—"
I ate like I was starving. When I licked her opening roughly, she gasped and clutched my head.
"Please," she whispered. "It's so much, it feels so— Oh God."
I worked three fingers into her tightness, wanting to overwhelm her. Curling my fingers, I lifted my head, aching to fuck her out of her mind. Her whimpers filled the air.
"Gorgeous," I whispered. "Worth every penny." She growled, but her cunt tightened around me, all desire. "The most perfect little pussy."
Her face was so open, in the second before she came. So honest. Contorted with pleasure, locked on me with all the need in the world. I'd give anything for that look to last forever.
Because it wouldn't.
But I used my fingers to send her over the edge, instead of my mouth, because I was a selfish bastard. I wanted to watch her come.
Her back bowed sharply, her mouth opening in a soundless gasp. She knew better than to look away.
"Beautiful," I murmured. "The most beautiful girl."
As the cascade ebbed, I pushed in on her tender clit, driving her to a new peak, soaking up the moment when she slipped the bonds of control and surrendered to me.
She moaned in protest when I let go in the middle of her orgasm. I unzipped my pants, stroking my dripping cock. When her fingers darted between her legs, unashamed, so different than her hesitant masturbation the first time I'd told her to do it, I ordered her to keep her hands on the sheets.
It was cruel. It excited me. I wouldn't have done it to her at the beginning. Her glare and her tentative, defiant submission were everything I wanted. She clutched the sheets.
I knelt over her. She stared at my dick in my fist, eagerness written all over her face. It would be so easy to torment her — naked, needy, vulnerable as hell. To deny her. To be the asshole, to relish the rush of power after the phone call that had rattled me tonight. The thought made my cock throb.
Instead, I spread her swollen pinkness and thrust in.
She let out a cry, her arms and legs winding around me. I took her slowly, savoring her. Her eyes closed as I whispered more compliments into her neck, as I pulled up her hips to go deeper. Her pussy was so responsive. So hungry for the attention I gave it, tight and rippling. I roughened my thrusts. I wanted her to feel it until the next time I fucked her.
"Don't stop." Her eyes were glassy with lust — Jesus, she was glowing.
I squeezed her round hips when I came, her breathy little moans driving me over the edge.
We stayed twined together until she wriggled and I climbed off of her. She groaned softly, easing her knees together, and I hid a smile. She'd definitely be feeling this tomorrow.
When she scooted close, I pulled her head down to my shoulder and let her snuggle.
Usually, she talked after sex. It was cute that she wanted to tell me things. The silence right now wasn't like her. I wondered if she was thinking about the concert tonight.
She blew out a breath across my chest, stirring my skin.
"What?" I asked.
"I'm a shitty sister."
I wound my hand through her hair. "That's what you're thinking about right now?"
She laughed a little. ""Now, yeah. Not before." Toying with the ring I wore, she turned it around my finger.
"You're obsessed with that thing."
"Picture the biggest diamond you've ever seen. No, bigger. Right…there." She pointed at the star on my ring, going for the letters in the center. "In your face, blinding you with sparkle."
I wouldn't call Jennie predictable, but I had no idea where the fuck she was going with this.
"Life goal of yours?" I asked.
"Jesus, no. Maybe. I don't know. My sister just got engaged. I'd show you a picture, but I don't want to hurt your eyes."
I slipped my ring off and drew a line with it up her bare torso. She sucked in a little breath, her nipples tightening in the dim light as the metal dipped between her breasts.
"She wants me to go wedding dress shopping this weekend," she said in a rush. "To go home and meet her there. She wanted to get started tonight so we could have some time together before we hit the stores tomorrow. We haven't seen each other since Christmas. I said no, I have something on Friday night. I'll come Saturday. She was so disappointed. She didn't want to show it, but she was. I could have rescheduled with you tonight, but…"
"But?" I traced a slow spiral on her breast with the ring. She squeezed her eyes closed, waiting for me to reach her nipple. I didn't plan to. Not yet.
"She gets everything she wants," she whispered. "Always. And I didn't want to reschedule."
"So that makes you a shitty sister."
"Exactly."
"Babe, no one gets everything they want." I teased the ring inward, rewarding her with cold metal against her dark nipple, trying to distract her.
Her eyes closed again. She rolled into me and grumbled something into my chest.
"Let go of the fucking guilt." I rubbed her back. "You're here tonight. You'll be there tomorrow. You can't be everything to everyone, everywhere. It's not possible."
Jennie lifted her head, pushing herself up on her elbows. Hair waved over her shoulders, wild. Her eyes were bottomless, her lips winter-chapped and swollen from our kisses. I'd meant it: she was beautiful.
"What do you know about guilt?" She stroked my chest. Her touch was too gentle, too intimate. Her eyes were too soft. I wanted to pull her in and drink her and bite her and crush her.
Instead, I gave her hair a short tug.
"Get some rest." My hand moved to her neck, finding the tell-tale spot that would relax her. "Because I'm going to fuck you again later, and I'm going to do it hard."
Her eyes narrowed and fluttered closed. "Can we listen to your song? I'd like to hear some good music tonight."
I knew the one she meant. Reluctantly, I left the warm enticement of her body to open my laptop and start The Sound of Silence.
"You really listened to this over and over last summer?" she murmured, drowsy.
"Hundreds of times." I stretched out in bed and pulled her into the circle of my arms, wondering what the fuck I was doing. "It never got old."
She sighed, a dreamy sigh, and pillowed her cheek on my chest. "Where's your nice watch?"
"So many questions." I began massaging her neck again. She lifted her head to give me a baleful look, and I chuckled.
"I gave it away."
"What?" She tensed."Why? To who?"
"Your friend James. I didn't want it anymore."
"And he accepted it, just like that? You should have sold that watch. It looked like it was worth a lot of money."
"It wasn't worth anything to me."
More questions crossed her face, but she shook her head like she was giving up on my sanity and relaxed against me.
A minute later, she was breathing peacefully. It was cute how quickly she fell asleep. I wished I could do the same.