Page 28 of Study Games

“Cute,” I whispered in her ear so she jumped, frowning at her answer. I knew at least half a dozen scholarship kids at Rippton who shared the dorms and one who made it into a frat–her answer made no sense.

Another part of the Waverly puzzle to unravel.

“I’m not cute,” she muttered, ala cuteness.

“Sure you are. And sexy, and smart, and…” And I can’t wait to tear those clothes off you and feel your skin bare and hot against mine.

But that wasn’t tonight’s program no matter how much I teased her down stairs. Helping her work through whatever shithole of an oubliette the twins had thrown into was.

Waverly whirled on me, gripping my shoulders where I stood on the step below her so we were of a height. Her forehead pressed to mine. “I’m none of those things, and none of them go together, ever.”

I smiled, drawing her mouth to mine in a sweet kiss that left her–agreed, shitty–apartment rocking beneath my boots. “You’re lying to yourself. You know that, right?”

“Cheeky damn artist.”

“You’re welcome.” I grinned at her back as she trotted along the narrow, poorly lit hallway to her room, and let me in.

For all that she’d said about dingy accommodation, I expected far worse. The small apartment looked cramped because it barely held enough space for one person, let alone two and all their things. The sofa was a bit threadbare, but the walls were clean, if the paint peeled in places, and the living area had a vibe my attic lacked.

But her bedroom was all Waverly–if I walked into it without knowing who it belonged to I’d pick it as hers on the spot. Bright, and motherfucking sunny in a way I’d never be. My lips curled up as I stared around the awkwardly painted room she’d obviously done by hand in the brightest ducky yellow ever. It should feel like an egg yolk got murder splattered all over the surface but somehow she managed to avoid that. It was just bright.

And yeah, fucking happy.

“Okay. I have never spoken to anyone about this, ever.” Waverly reached around me to flick the lock on the bedroom door despite there being no one else at all in the place. “If I tell you this, my future's in your artsy hands.”

“No, it’s not.” I caught her fingers and brushed my lips across her knuckles just to watch her eyes flare wide. Her lips parted as a bonus and I managed not to steal her next breath. Jst. “Listen to me, Waverly..” I tugged at her hand when she resisted a little, and I sighed, ducking my head before I swooped up to catch her waist and drew her onto my lap, perching on the edge of her bed. She made a pretty noise I tucked away for my spank bank and made sure to keep my arms loose around her. If she hated my touch, I’d let her go, for now.

But she hadn’t objected before, and I hoped she was comfortable with more because I was a tactile person and needed the contact, craved it. My silent version of a conversation held in a different way than everyone else.

I wondered if she’d get that part of me, too.

“Right.” Waverly rolled her eyes and tossed her hair where it grazed the back of her neck. Taking me by surprise, she straddled my hips, fluffing the same brown corduroy skirt she’d worn earlier around us both. “What? I want to be able to see your face. That’s how I judge if I can trust you or not, or if you’re so horrified by me that I need to throw you out on your leather clad ass.”

I huffed a laugh, watching her watch me, and didn’t hate the feeling. “This is your test. Got it.”

I gripped her hips and scooted back across the bed until my back pressed to the sunshine and daisies brand of Waverly wall, though I didn’t let go once I was there, digging my thumbs into the tender spot.

Her eyes flared wider as she realized her mistake, a soft moan slipping free.

Fucking Jackpot.

“Jax–’” she gasped as I pressed her down onto the hard ridge of my cock, grinding her hot, panty covered pussy over the zip of my jeans. My leather jacket spread out around us, over her quilt, and I hoped to fuck the place smelled like me when I left.

“Yes, Waverly?” I murmured, controlling the movement until her eyelids fluttered. My arousal skyrocketed the moment she straddled me, taking back control of the situation, and her independence. She glared at me and I shrugged, giving her a crooked grin. “Hey, you put yourself there. Didn’t think it through, huh?”

“I didn’t know you–” She bit her lip, her earlier confidence evaporating in an instant.

“Hey,” I released one hip and caught the nape of her neck to pull her down to me, brushing my lips across hers but not kissing her, though her soft sigh made it all the harder to have her so close and not fuck around with her more than I already did. “I want you. I’ve never made a secret out of that. This morning, playing around with you…I wanted nothing more than to kiss you and see if you tasted like honey. You do, by the way,” I added conversationally.

“I do?” She relaxed, tension slipping from her as I talked. Her thighs softened, draped over my hips and it was the most sumptuous feeling I’d ever experienced. Her curves were perfect in all the right places. I wanted to strip her, and mark up every inch of her pristine, pale flesh. I knew she wouldn’t have ink. She was the good girl sort who didn’t do that, which made me that much more curious about what the twins had on her.

Didn’t make me want to devour her any less, or claim her as mine.

Distraction was my favorite technique for pulling a brain into letting go of shit it didn't need to hold onto. I traced my fingertips along her thigh. “Remember you didn’t like the nickname I gave you? Well, now I know.”

“I didn’t.” She spoke against my mouth, and my lips tingled in response to the contact. It wasn’t the only thing that tingled as she shifted over me.

I caught her hips in both hands, holding her still and resisted giving her a full blown groan directly into her mouth. “Didn't what?”

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