JENNIE
Room 104 in Egan Hall was crowded on Monday night. With a combined meeting of Student Senate and the college treasury, all seats were full. I typed minutes on autopilot as Khalil, the president, presented the budget proposal for spring semester.
I should be paying attention. Picking up some tips on money management. But my stomach was knotted, and my heart was thudding.
In ten minutes, this meeting would end and I'd pay my first official visit to Lisa's room. It was all kinds of crazy, and I'd agreed to this plan — called her up of my own free will.
Sunday had been a wedding discussion marathon. I'd talked with Jisoo, my parents, and everyone in our extended family, who called to analyze my sister's engagement and ask if there was a boy in my life. Jisoo says Haein has a handsome cousin…but don't you have a serious boyfriend already?
Fidgeting in my seat, I adjusted my short skirt. I'd dressed up for tonight. I'd spent an hour getting ready — shaving, exfoliating, getting my makeup just right. Subtle and tasteful, nothing overtly sexy except the dark plum lipstick.
At my feet, my tote bag bulged with a change of clothes and a fucking toothbrush, in case I dared visit the Kappa Sig bathroom. No pajamas or nightgown.
I had no idea what would happen on the other side of Lisa's door. Or, I had just enough of an idea to put me on edge.
"Jennie, you okay?" whispered Allison from my study group, who was on the university affairs committee. "You seem…distracted."
"I'm fine," I whispered back. "Just antsy."
She held out a pack of mints. "Have some. They help me focus."
I took one. Wintergreen rushed my tongue. I bit the mint and tasted sparks.
"Thanks." I hurried to catch up with typing notes. "Khalil needs to wrap up this proposal already."
"No shit." Allison rifled through the papers in front of her.
I'd been distracted all day. I couldn't afford to zone out in class, not with last semester's grades. So I'd drunk too many mochas and popped an extra Adderall. Just for today.
In Victorian Lit, Lucas and some other guy kept arguing about an obscure point that no one else cared about. Finally, the girl on the other side interrupted.
"If this isn't putting her to sleep—" she pointed at me, "It's definitely putting me to sleep."
Everyone laughed. I did too. But when Lucas glanced back, his gaze fell on my tapping fingers and restless hands.
Don't take more than the recommended dose.
I'd flashed him an innocent smile, and he turned away.
At a pause in the Senate meeting, I looked up from typing to make sure no one had asked me a question. Nope; Khalil was searching for information on his phone while everyone waited.
But a pair of dark eyes lingered on my crossed legs — Kai. When he noticed me looking, he gave me a mournful smile from across the room.
Kai and I had met here sophomore year. I'd noticed him around the business school before that. He was lean and pretty, with soulful eyes and the thickest eyelashes. I was used to seeing him in collared shirts and preppy slacks, carrying a briefcase through the B-School halls.
But one night, his band played on campus, and I watched him grasp the microphone in both hands as he sang. His loose tank top flashed a glimpse of the peacock tattoo on his shoulder, and his chest glistened with sweat.
Our eyes locked, even though Rosé blew him a kiss, gorgeous as Jisoo in her own, entirely different way. I shrugged, figuring she'd reel him in
Guys wanted to fall at Jisoo's feet and worship her; they wanted to get Rosé back to their rooms and do her. There wasn't anything subtle about her mane of blonde hair, wide brown eyes, year-round tan, and tall curves. Maria, Ashley, and I were cool with being the orbit to her sun. When that sun went dark or imploded, I was the one who picked up the pieces and helped her put them back together.
Rosé needs me was the refrain that ran through my head.
But in Student Senate, Kai and I got to talking after meetings. We walked around campus, stopping for coffee and frozen yogurt. He had ambitions, and he'd liked it when I said I was always trying to improve.
Can I ask you out? he'd finally asked. Or are you out of my league?
It had not been an easy breakup.
"Any final announcements?" asked Khalil from the front.
"No," Allison muttered.
"I make a motion to adjourn this meeting."
Voting was unanimous. I checked my watch. Ten minutes after ten. I was late.
There was no way to truly prepare for walking into Lisa's room. Whatever games went down tonight, I was going to lose.
I finished typing, emailed the minutes to the executive board, and shoved my laptop into my overstuffed tote bag. Throwing a quick goodbye to Allison, I ducked out of the room.
In the hallway, I finger-combed my hair, arranging it before I put on my pom-pom hat. A chilly wind blasted my face as I opened the building door.
Footsteps sounded behind me. An arm draped around my shoulders, making me tense up. When a whiff of familiar cologne hit my nose, I relaxed — slightly — and sighed.
"Hey, Kai."
"Hi, sweetie." Kai ran a hand through his dark hair. He tweaked my hat over my forehead, and I moved it back. "What's the rush?"
"No rush." I hurried down the main path of the quad. Kai kept pace with me.
"You're all dressed up. Something special happening?"
"I just felt like looking nice."
"Well, you look even more gorgeous than usual."
"Thanks," I murmured.
When we were a couple, Kai threw compliments around like confetti. I'd loved it when he confessed he'd seen me cheerleading at games and couldn't take his eyes off me. When he'd said I was too good for him and he didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky.
At first.
As we passed a flickering lamp, Kai leaned in. "You smell delicious."
"Thanks," I repeated. I'd gone a little crazy with perfume in my room, spraying it between my breasts and on my thighs. I was trying too hard. Lisa would probably rip my clothes off as soon as I walked in.
I strode behind the engineering building where I'd done my makeup on Friday night, trying to shake Kai. If I were alone, if I weren't late, I'd be ducking inside that same bathroom to wash the perfume off my thighs.
He moved closer, crooking his elbow around my neck, and I shifted under the weight of his arm. "I'm on my way to band practice. You're coming to our next show, right? It'll be a Friday night around eleven—"
"I can't," I blurted.
"What do you mean, you can't?" His brows pulled together. "You don't even know the date. You have something happening every Friday?"
"We'll see, okay?" I hedged.
"I need you there, beautiful. You're my good-luck charm."
"You were doing fine before you met me."
"Not so good." He bent to press his forehead against my hat. His breath clouded the cold air between us. "I miss you, baby," he whispered. "I miss you so much."
Miss you too, I was about to say. But I heard Lisa's voice. Icy, close, flooding my veins like a drug.
Why do you pretend, Jennie?
"Kai, listen." I stepped out from under his arm, feeling so mean. "We're friends. That's it."
He blinked. "You asked for some time apart. I didn't think it was final. That was in December. It's only been a few weeks."
I steeled myself. "It's final. I'm sorry."
He stepped close. "You were upset, you didn't know what you were saying. I'm worried, Jennie. You weren't yourself when you asked for a break. Think of how good we had it together. It's not like there's anyone else for you." His eyes narrowed. "Is there?"
I fiddled with my scarf. "I'm not looking for anything serious right now."
"I saw you." He lowered his voice. "Talking to that guy."
"Which guy?" I turned to go. "I know a lot of guys."
"That guy from your freshman floor. Maxwell something. Tall, looks like he needs to eat, thinks he's smarter than everyone else…"
"Lucas?" I burst out laughing, driven by nerves. "God, no. There's nothing there."
"Good. I heard he deals. Jennie—"
"See you around. Have fun at practice."
"Wait." He caught my arm.
"Kai, I need to go."
"Don't go."
"I have to." I gritted my teeth, pulling free. "I'm sorry. I'm late."
"For what?" he called, but I was already jogging down the path.
When I pulled up in front of the brick Kappa Sig house, I paused to catch my breath. Cautiously, I picked my way around the lawn blanketed with white, my boots crunching on the snowfall as I headed for the back staircase.
I'd hoped to sneak in under the radar, but two guys lounged outside the back door in winter coats, studying their phones.
"'Sup," called the taller one, looking me over. I recognized Pool Boy — Chase — from the party Friday night. His friend, shorter and shaggier, stared straight ahead. "I've seen you before."
"Oh?" I skirted the dumpsters, passing close to them.
"Wait, don't tell me…" He snapped his fingers. "Cookie Girl! Yeah? I remember you from last year."
Thank Jesus Chase didn't remember me from Friday night. Apparently, it made more of an impression when I came by to bake James cookies last spring. He'd been dumped by his girlfriend, so I'd gone into big-sister mode and spent some time here.
When guys began flocking to the kitchen, lured by the smell of cookies, I'd baked another batch. And another, until I ran out of ingredients and every last cookie had been gobbled up. I hadn't thought much of it. Now, I was Cookie Girl. Pizza Girl. Hungry for attention. I thought I was being so nice.
"You here to bake again?" Chase wanted to know.
"Not tonight." I sweetened the rejection with a smile.
"James is out, but you can hang with us 'til he comes back, cutie."
His shaggy friend jabbed his arm. "Cheerleader," he whispered, not very quietly.
I edged toward the door, the clock ticking. "I'm not here to see James."
"Then who?"
There wasn't any point in hiding the truth. The least I could do was put a good face on it.
"I'm visiting Lisa," I admitted. "Manoban."
"Oh." Chase's flirty smile disappeared. The guys glanced at each other.
"What?"
"Nothing, she's cool," the shorter guy piped up. He looked at me, then away.
"Is there something I should know?" I demanded.
"Nah, she's a cool guy," Chase echoed. "Just…different."
"How?"
Chase leaned his head against the wall. "Look, she's solid, she's there when you need her. That hasn't changed. All I know is she went abroad last year, and she came back different. We were friends before." His head snapped up. "Hell, we still are, we work out together, but it's like someone else is in there and I don't know who it is." He spread his hands. "That's all I can say. Right, Rufus?"
"Right." The shorter guy, Rufus, studied the lawn. But when I turned to go, I felt him watching me.
I hustled up the staircase.
"Best cookies ever." Chase's voice floated up behind me. "You remember? The chocolate chips stayed melted."
Upstairs, doors stood open, music thumped, and male voices yelled down the hall. But nothing seemed to touch Lisa's closed door.
I stood in front of it. This was so fucking public.
Finally, my knuckles met the wood. The door swung open. Brown eyes flickered down at me.
For the benefit of anyone watching, I stood on tiptoe to kiss Lisa's cheek. My lips brushed marble. If she was surprised, she didn't show it. Her hand settled on my waist, casually possessive.
Then I was in her room. The door closed behind us, and the sounds from the hall faded.
Sweating, I unzipped my parka. It slid from my shoulders. Lisa took it.
"You're late," she said. "I'm not happy."
God, her voice. It had filled my head all weekend. Quiet, calm, deep, like a radio announcer speaking just to me.
"My meeting ran over." I cleared my throat, but it stayed dry. "And there were complications along the way."
"What kind of complications?"
I unwound my scarf, pulled my hat off, and stripped away my gloves. She took those too. Last time, she'd thrown all my clothes on the floor.
"My ex," I murmured. "He wanted to talk. Walk with me. Convince me to see his band. Tell me he missed me."
Lisa moved with deliberate steps to her closet. Opening the door, she arranged my things on a hanger. Everything in the closet was sorted by type and neatly hung. She didn't have a lot of clothes, but the ones she did have, all in a dark or neutral palette, had the same hard-to-define quality I'd noticed from the start.
"It wasn't enough to fake it with him in bed?" she asked over her shoulder. "You have to pretend to like him now? Let me guess, he wants to stay friends."
"Asshole," I hissed. A ribbon of air from the open window, cold and restless, stirred the tie of my blouse and the hem of my skirt. "It's none of your business."
"It is my business." Lisa shut the closet. "I don't want complications. I want you here, on time, three nights a week with no fuss."
"Then why'd you pick me? I think complications get you going." I mimicked her deep voice. "I'll find your buttons and push them, Jennie, so you better have a lot. You're like a train wreck, but prettier. You're going to be the messiest messy mess every time I put my hands on your body."
To my surprise, she cracked a grin — a real one. Lisa was so beautiful when she smiled. "Something to drink?"
"What do you have?"
"Water."
"Right. You don't drink. Yeah, I'll have some." I went to the bookcase opposite her bed, grabbing a random economics book.
Lisa bent to get a water bottle from her desk drawer. I eyed her body, about to split the seams of her black T-shirt and jeans. Her feet were bare. I was in her territory, wondering if my lipstick still looked good and holding a copy of Games and Decisions, dressed for a flirty job interview in a white blouse and pink miniskirt. My heart was about to rocket through my chest.
When she approached, I flipped busily through the book. With a snap, she unscrewed the cap on the bottle.
"Having fun?" She was so close, I smelled her faint salty scent. Heat beat at me in waves.
"Mm-hm." I turned a page. My knees were trying to shake. I was trying to stop them. I froze when the rim of the water bottle touched my lips.
"Drink some water, Jennie."
Accepting the bottle, I took a long gulp. "Where's yours? Don't make me drink alone."
She grinned. "You're the one who'll need it. I don't soak the sheets and cry into the pillow."
"What is your deal?" I flared.
"I'm being honest. You're back; you obviously want more."
I took another drink and set the water bottle on the shelf. Shutting her book, I stuffed it between the other volumes.
"I don't know how you major in this shit. I fell asleep after half a page."
Such a lie. My body was electrified, my nerves humming, my blood loaded with stimulants. Lisa, in front of me, was an unmoving mountain.
Her eyebrows lifted. "I never told you my major."
"Really? I thought I heard you moan it in the middle of the night. 'Oh, baby, Econ.' You talk in your sleep, has anyone told you that? C'mon, I see you trying not to laugh. You think I'm funny."
Her brows stayed raised, waiting for an explanation more acceptable than I stalked you online.
I gestured at her full shelves. "No one has this many Econ books unless they're majoring in it. Plus, you're obsessed with money." I smiled brightly. "Now ask me my major."
Lisa's eyes were on my legs. Like Kai's had been in Student Senate. As before, they were crossed, my skirt hitting at mid-thigh. This time, they were jiggling.
"What's going on with you?" she asked.
"Nothing," I said automatically.
"You can't stand still."
"I'm fine." I flushed hot under her scrutiny.
"Are you on something?"
"No," I lied.
A hand dropped on my shoulder. I stilled under the weight. Jesus, her palm burned through my blouse. She eased me against the wall.
"What's your major, Jennie?" she asked softly.
I tried to breathe. "Marketing."
She inclined her head. "You like money too."
"It's not about money. It's about figuring out what people want and giving it to them."
"How's that working out for you?"
I winced. "It's my major, not my life."
"Mm-hm." Her thumb slipped into my blouse and stroked my collarbone. I swallowed and gestured around the room to her posters: the Colosseum, a stone fountain with a worn Latin inscription, a cobbled alleyway.
"So, you did your junior year in Rome? James told me," I added hastily.
"Yep." In the blink of an eye, her face opened up and shut down.
Something had happened in Italy. Whatever it was, it didn't seem like a happy memory. But Jesus, she had the posters plastered on her walls as a constant reminder.
"You're into art?" I hurried on.
"Yes."
"Where'd you get that one?" I pointed to the nude woman with the dark hair and the defensive posture.
Lisa squeezed my shoulder. "You like it?"
"I wouldn't say I like it. I'm curious."
"I painted it." She toyed with my collar.
"You did? That's crazy. It looks professional." Squinting at the careful blending and precise strokes, I tried to picture a brush in her huge hand. Lisa's shrugged off the compliment. "Who is she?"
"Nobody." Her hand was firm on my shoulder, her leg warm between mine. Either she'd moved closer, or I had.
I wriggled free and turned to the door. "If that's how you talk about girls you've slept with, I'm leaving."
A smile tugged her mouth. "You asked me to protect your privacy, Jennie. Why shouldn't I do the same for her? I'm no gentleman, but I don't talk."
I snorted and walked over to the picture. Lisa's signature, small and precise, marked the bottom right-hand corner. Dark eyes glared up from the half-hidden face, her pose secretive, sensuous, and exposed all at once.
Lisa leaned against the wall, her gaze skating over me. I'd thought she was a wild animal when we met, pretending to be tame for her own purposes. Now I was the animal, pacing her room, while she waited patiently for me to come to her.
"You didn't sleep with her," I announced.
"How do you know?"
"The way she's looking up. I can't put it into words, but the way you painted her — it's like something you want, not something you have. I don't even know if she's real." I backed away, examining the shadowed figure. "For your sake, I hope she's not. Because if I'm going to be here three times a week, I have feelings about seeing a girl on your wall who can't decide whether to bang you, kill you, or run away from you—"
"Jennie." She sat down on her bed. "Come here."
"I'm looking at your painting."
"I said, come here." Her voice was soft as a secret, sharp as a knife.
Sweet Jesus. I wanted to find out what she'd do if I resisted. But my legs were unsteady and slippery in between. The order sent a rush of heat through me.
I went to her and stood in front of her spread knees.
My chest rose and fell. A light tug on the tie of my blouse threatened to pull it apart — to pull me apart.
"I dressed up," I whispered.
"I noticed." Her lips twitched. "You look like a hot secretary. Now take it off."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"I'm nervous." My mouth was such a fucking traitor, giving up my truth.
"I know you are," she said softly. "Take your clothes off."
My fingers trembled as I unbuttoned my blouse. The silky white fabric slid away.
Shaking, I unhooked my bra to expose my breasts. My nipples were stiff in the cool air. My boots dropped on the floor one at a time. I unzipped my short pink skirt and bent to peel off my tights.
When I straightened, I was covered only by the pale pink panties clinging to my hips.
Lisa leaned back, her eyes narrowed. They weren't ice anymore, or even water. They were colorless steam, hot with lust.
My panties fell to the floor. The draft from the open window popped my skin into goosebumps.
"Say something," I whispered.
Her gaze lingered on my soft spots. "Even better than I remembered."
It wasn't much of a compliment, but the impact hit me more than anyone else saying you're beautiful.
"I'm glad you think so." I cocked my hip, trying for confidence. "I've let a lot go. I haven't worked out since November. I quit the cheerleading team. If you've fantasized about me in my uniform, too bad. I can't zip it up right now."
I meant to throw her a challenge, but this was more of a confessional.
"I like you like this." Her eyes deliberately moved over my body. "And I like that you're embarrassed about it. Gets me hard."
"Why?" I pressed my hands to my cheeks, then swept back my hair, feeling ten times nakeder. "Why does it turn you on when I'm embarrassed?"
"It's how God made me. Turns you on too."
"Your kinks are freaky," I announced. "I'm here because…"
"Because I'm paying you so well?"
I glared at her. "Because I needed another activity this semester. The pay's just okay. If I hadn't seen your shitty car, I'd ask for more."
Her eyelids lowered, and a sardonic smile tugged at her mouth. "Take it from me, Jennie, it'll save you a lot of time and energy if you don't fight who you are."
"What do you care about my time and energy?"
That smile flickered over her lips. "Come close. Spread your legs."
Fuck it, I obeyed. Moving between her knees, I spread my legs, resting my hands on her shoulders for balance, clutching her dark T-shrt. Heat flamed over my skin, chased by the breeze from the window.
A huge hand cupped my mound. I shuddered as her fingers explored my pussy, deliberate and sensual. Sweet Jesus, this was the first real touch of the night, and it wasn't remotely close to a kiss. One finger dipped inside me, slick with honey, and was gone.
I grabbed for her hand, but she gripped my waist, lifted me off my feet, and tossed me on the bed. I bounced on the comforter, the breath driven out of me with a gasp. In a heartbeat, Lisa crouched over me. Granite hands pinned my wrists to the pillow.
"Someone's excited." Her breath brushed my ear. "I barely touched you, and you're burning hot. Needy. Desperate for cock. Have you masturbated since you came for me on the phone?"
"None of your business."
She bit my earlobe. "Answer me."
"Yes," I whispered.
"Did you come?"
"Yes, you jerk."
"Hard?"
I gave her one nod. "Did you?"
"Hell, yes. I came so fucking hard, thinking about the tears running down your pretty face. You, hissing that you hated me right before you came."
"I do hate you," I whispered. A lie. We both knew it.
Abruptly, Lisa released my wrists and propped herself up on one elbow. Her hand closed over my neck. Her thumb pressed the base of my throat, just enough to let me know she was there.
"Show me how you play with yourself when you're all alone."
"You do it," I husked. God, I was blatantly asking for her touch.
"Ladies first."
"O-o-kay." Tentatively, I reached between my legs to rub my clit. Pleasure shot through me. And here was Lisa, fully dressed, reclining beside me like this was all for her fucking entertainment, because it was.
"That's a good girl. Now show me how turned on you are. Spread your pussy for me."
I stared up at her. She nodded once, patiently.
I'd never done this for anyone. Cautiously, I spread my folds open to her gaze. I was soaked, aching, and all it would take was her fingers on my clit. A moan escaped me.
"Hot." She dropped a kiss on my lips. I strained towards her, my mouth parting. "Get yourself off. Look at me the whole time."
"I can't do that."
"I just told you to." Her voice was ice. "Do it."
"You don't understand." My face burned. "It's hard for me to get off like this."
"You didn't have any problem on the phone." She caressed my throat, pushing on it ever so slightly, and I bucked against my own hand. My finger began moving on my clit again. I couldn't help it. "You would have done it again if I'd wanted you to."
"Stop it," I hissed. "You weren't in the room, watching, putting all this pressure on me. It takes me forever—"
"I have a lot of patience, Jennie." A sudden pinch on my nipple, sharp and cruel, made me bow toward her. "I've been waiting a long time for this."
"What does that mean?"
"You don't know?"
I knew.
She'd wanted me since our eyes met at that party in November. As much as I'd wanted her. She'd been wanting me for months.
"Oh God," I whispered.
She squeezed my neck and let go. Without her touch, a shudder ran through my body. The cold scrape of a zipper announced her fly coming down. In seconds, she was naked. Her body was rugged, her cock deep red.
"Please…" I stared at her erection. I'd never wanted a dick this much.
"Wrap your fingers around it. Touch me and yourself at the same time."
Jesus, she had me doing everything. Her cock was hot, silky, filling my hand. I stroked the thick shaft and played with the head, need making me dizzy, wondering how she'd react to a light touch. She watched me through half-closed eyes. My pussy was wet, so fucking wet, burning as I slipped my fingers inside.
Time slowed down.
"Does that feel good?" I whispered.
"Do you need reassurance for every little thing?"
"Stop it," I snapped, heat flaming my cheeks. My pussy tightened on my fingers. "I'm asking about you."
"Because you want to hear some praise. I'm hard as fuck, aren't I? I'm oozing all over your fucking hand, and you know it because you're rubbing it around. You know this feels good for me. If I don't like what you're doing, I'll tell you."
"Okay," I said shakily. Lust swirled between my legs. My knees shook, my hips rose, my fingers frantically sought my clit. "Lisa, please…"
"Please what?"
Dammit, I was going to beg. "Touch me."
"Come and I'll touch you. Show me how much you need it. Squeeze my cock. Look at me while you get off."
"I can't—" Coming for an audience was too exposed, too vulnerable. "I'm right on the edge."
"You're trying so hard to keep it together," she said softly. "But you won't, Jennie. You're going to come while I watch, spread open for my pleasure, rubbing your little clit, because you're mine."
"But—"
"Don't play to win." Her hand gripped my thigh, urging it open further. "Play to lose."
I sobbed and arched upward, locked in a long spasm.
"That's a good girl," Lisa crooned.
I clutched her cock as I came, staring into wide-open blue space, her growls of fuck yes spurring me on.
Finally the ripples slowed. I fell to the bed, and my hand dropped limply to my side.
"Now you," I panted.
Instead, she pried my fingers off her flushed cock and stroked it like she had all the time in the world.
"You want me to touch you?" She favored me with a lazy smile. "Beg."
Anger flared. "I did everything you said, and now you're telling me to beg?"
"You heard me. You want something, you ask nicely."
Furious, I glared at her. "Touch me. Please."
"You're not very good at begging." Condescension dripped from her voice. "You don't like asking for things, do you? We're going to have to work on that."
I dug my nails into her shoulders. "Please," I panted. "Lisa, I need you. I need your touch. I…I want you so bad."
Her smile broadened, like she knew I never made a habit of telling guys I wanted them. I rolled close, brushing my nipples against her chest. Trying for seduction, when all I had was pure need.
"Please," I whispered in his her. "Kiss me. Touch me. Touch my pussy."
I sobbed when a huge hand covered my whole mound and squeezed. She pushed me onto my back. Thick fingers stretched my entrance, pumping slowly in and out.
"Oooh," I gasped. My thighs closed over her arm. The lightest touch on my clit made me shriek and convulse around her. Another hand clapped over my mouth.
"Ssshhhh, baby," she whispered. "Don't want to wake anyone up."
I twisted, biting her palm, a shock of excitement crackling between my legs. Her fingers and thumb tightened on my cheeks. My juices spilled all over her hand as she leisurely, savagely fingered me. As my muffled moans reached a fever pitch, her hand left my face, replaced by a coolly demanding mouth.
I kissed her desperately, sucking on her lower lip, opening my mouth to her insistent tongue, wrapping my arms around her neck. A hand covered my breast and I rubbed my puckered nipple shamelessly against her palm. Her thumb kept flicking and flicking and flicking my clit. I was so sensitive to her, she was going so fast, I needed some control before she pushed me over the edge—
"Fuuuuuck," I gasped. Lisa growled into my mouth as I tightened around her in a rush of pleasure. "Oh God, I'm coming."
My pussy was pulsing too fast to distinguish sensation. I fizzed on her fingers like a popped cork that kept shooting upward, a champagne bottle that wouldn't stop foaming over.
When I cried out, she covered my mouth again.
"Look at you, baby," she said, low and heated. "You're coming so hard, and you're coming the way I want you to."
I shrieked into her hand, shuddering as one wave after another crashed over my body. Finally, her touch slowed and she eased out. Her hand left my mouth. Fingers, wet with juices, met my lips.
"Suck," she ordered.
I made a face. Not my thing. But seeing her pupils dilated with arousal, the black almost swallowing the pale of her eyes, I flicked out my tongue for a try. I tasted tangy, salty, hot. A second finger joined the first, and I sucked more eagerly. A rush of pleasure came when she caressed my hair and whispered, "Good girl. Here's another."
At the satisfied smirk on her face, I pulled away. "I can't believe I did that."
"No?" She shook her head and rolled off the mattress, walking to the foot of the bed. "Will you look at this. Someone's made a mess all over my sheets. That's not what I'm paying you for."
"Bastard," I choked out. Before I could react, strong hands opened my thighs again. She stared at my pussy — swollen, pulsing, open to her.
"I take such good care of you, and look what you do." Her thumbs pressed into my thighs, tightening with her hypnotic murmur. "You're not a good girl after all. I should have known, since you're letting me screw you for money."
"Why are you such a twisted fuck?"
Fingers peeled my folds apart. Her restrained touch, her pale eyes staring between my legs, sent pulses of panicked arousal through my body.
"I hoped you could behave for me, Jennie. Now I need to clean your pussy up, because you can't control your slutty little desires."
Suddenly, her head was between my legs and her mouth was on my pussy.
"Ohhhh—" I groaned, kicking. I'd only let one guy go down on me — my boyfriend freshman year, who'd been sweet and patient and gentle with my ticklishness. Lisa was none of those. She licked me hard, her hot tongue tugging at my sensitive flesh. Her mouth moved all over my pussy, sucking, pulling, making me cream more.
"You dick." I tried to grab her hair, but it was too hard to hold onto. I clutched at her neck.
She lifted her head. "You don't like it, but you want it." Her cold whisper slid over me. "You don't like being my whore, but you want to be."
I scratched her neck as hard as I could. "Don't you dare call me that."
"That's what you are." She blew air over my clit. I moaned, naked, wet, exposed and desperate for release. "We're not going to lie about it. There's no lying in this room, Jennie." She licked a slow line up my pussy. "Understand?"
"Yes," I gritted.
Pressure at my entrance drove the breath out of me. Her tongue pushed into my pussy, sore from her thrusting fingers. Wriggling, licking up my juices, stinging and soothing me at the same time. Fingers surrounded my clit, pinching it ruthlessly.
I was going to come again. Helpless, trapped under her hands and mouth. This was what she meant about coming all night long.
Sensations melted and fused. As I shook, awareness shot back in: hair plastered to my neck, Lisa's mouth on my pussy. My crazy animal sounds, the metallic taste of blood where I'd bitten my tongue, the musky scents of date night perfume and sex.
"Lisa…" I pleaded.
She massaged my clit, holding my knees down with her elbows. Her nostrils flared when she raised her head. The flash of wild beast made me shiver.
"You begged me to touch you, Jennie. Why should I stop? Weren't you so curious about coming all night long?"
My pussy flamed with heat. My legs shook. My hips bucked uncontrollably. My snarls scared me as I kept coming so much, so hard. Pleasure turned to pain while Lisa watched it all through narrowed eyes.
I was showing her everything.
I groped for the safe word. "Evergreen," I gasped.
She instantly let go.
"You're done?"
I nodded.
"Are you okay?"
"I — yes."
"Is there something else you need me to stop?"
I blinked up at her. "No. No, I'm okay. Just give me a minute." She crouched between my knees, her cock pointing at me, hard and veined. "I'm ready to go on."
Her voice went cold. "Roll over."
I hesitated, then turned onto my stomach. A drawer rattled, foil ripped, and there was an agonizing pause.
Large hands cupped my ass. Thumbs spread my pussy open from behind. I gasped when the head of her cock slid over my flesh.
"You want reassurance, babe?" She pushed, and I moaned at the sudden fullness. I squirmed under her, trying to lift my hips, my pussy clinging to her thick shaft. Her hands tightened cruelly on my ass. "You feel like heaven. And it makes me want to give you hell."
I cried out as she withdrew and sank in again, deeper. Her words lit a dark spark at the base of my spine.
"I want to look at you," I breathed.
"No."
I growled and pushed back. God, she really was huge, stretching me uncomfortably. But I was so turned on, slick and tight around her. I moved my hips in circles, raising my ass to her thrusts, urging her to pick up the pace.
A hand grabbed my hair and pulled. "Jennie, you're trying to take charge and I don't like it. This is how I want to fuck you. Now be a good little slut like I'm paying you for."
"Do you have to keep saying that?" I clutched the sheets as she lengthened her strokes.
"Every time." She paused, balls-deep inside me, controlled but ragged around the edges. "Why else are you here?"
God, I wanted her orgasm. I wanted her to let go and come.
It hit me: all the guys I'd been with before this, when they'd come, I'd resented it. It seemed so fucking easy for them, so stupid and simple. Not for every guy, I knew, but for many. I resented it, and I wanted a bouquet and applause when they were done.
But Lisa? I wanted her release as badly as I'd wanted mine.
"Oh God— I need your cum," I gasped.
She yanked my head back, abruptly exposing my throat, and roared. I hung on to the bed, but I was in her hands, pulled into her body, squeezing her cock inside me and moaning in rhythm with her as she climaxed. The room blurred as we locked together.
Finally, she released me and withdrew. I collapsed in a puddle on the bed.
"Shit," I muttered, rolling away.
The soft chuckle behind me didn't improve my mood. "Something wrong?"
"I told you I needed your cum."
"Obviously you do."
"Just don't even." I pulled a pillow over my head.
After a minute, the mattress creaked. I pushed away the pillow as she walked to the metal trash can by her desk. Naked, unembarrassed, she unrolled the condom from the thick stem of her cock and dropped it in the trash. A draft of January air stirred the papers on her desk.
"We don't have to use those." I pointed to the trash can. "I'm on the pill."
Lisa gave me a slow smile as she took her wallet from the jeans on her desk chair. "You really do need my cum, girl."
"Jesus." I flopped on my back and stared at the white molding on the ceiling so I wouldn't throttle her. "Forget I said anything."
She opened her wallet. "Go get tested, and we'll stop using condoms."
"Me? You mean, you."
"I'll do it too. But I'm more concerned about you."
"How dare you?" I gasped, sitting up. "I'm clean. I don't sleep around with no protection. I don't sleep around, period." Lisa raised her eyebrows at me. "I was with Kai for nine months before this."
"Exactly." She took some bills out of her wallet. "The guy's a lizard. You don't know where he's been sticking his tail."
"Are you for real?" I squeezed the pillow. "Kai's not like that. He keeps asking me if we can get back together. You met him, what, once at that party in November when you slipped me a random napkin? Or do you know him from somewhere else?"
"Don't know him, don't want to." Lisa tapped the stack of bills against the edge of her desk. "I'm just going on what I saw."
"Well, you don't know what you're talking about. And I told you not to poke around in my life."
She shrugged a massive shoulder. "Twenties okay?"
"You know they're fine," I growled. "Just stick them in my purse, all right? You don't have to rub them all over my body again."
Lisa grinned at me. "That was pretty dirty, wasn't it."
Dammit. My lips moved before I could make a choice, in a fucking smile that wouldn't go away.
"Where've you been sticking your tail?" I asked as she climbed onto the bed. Turning on my side, I felt her stretch out behind me. "Has there been anyone else this year?"
"No," she said, after a minute.
Her hand settled on my hip. I sighed and tucked the pillow under my head. The coliseum poster caught my eye, next to the mirror that showed us lying close together. Her fraternity ring glinted in the light.
"Can I see your ring?"
The heavy circle dropped on the covers in front of me. I picked it up, warm from her skin, and studied the scratched metal and the nicks near the insignia.
"Who'd this belong to before you?"
"My dad."
I pictured Lisa's father — broad shoulders, tired eyes — and wondered if the ring was an inheritance.
"You have the same size hands," I tried.
"We do."
Present tense. When I glanced up, she regarded me with an unreadable expression.
I slipped the gold circle on my left ring finger — way too big, of course. I almost made a joke about being blinded by giant diamonds, but Lisa gave me such a strange look that I took the ring off and thrust it at her.
She pulled back the covers. I burrowed underneath them while she turned off the lamp. When she murmured, "Come here," I did. I curled up in her arms, my head on her chest, while the curtains fluttered and a sliver of winter chill chased the heat of the room.