Page 30 of Study Games

He’d taken that ethos and instilled it in me, one shared mile at a time as we sweated it out together, shoulder to shoulder. Hell, he'd even let me draw him a few times.

“You’re really lucky.” She ran her fingers over my side lightly.

I frowned until I realized what she was doing. “Oh, they weren’t that kind. The broken ribs hurt but…” I kept my motions slow, head tilted back and relaxed looking but gritted my teeth against the memory of physical torture as I pulled my shirt up.

“Holy fuck.” Waverly gasped, running her fingers over the tight skin. I flinched, unable to help pulling away. “Oh, hell. Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry!”

“Nah, it tickles.” I gave her a bitter grin, unable to come up with anything better. “That doesn’t hurt anymore. Not physically, at least.”

“It’s so cruel.”

“Yeah.” Every time I picked up a pencil I remembered. But I refused to let that memory own me. “I’m stubborn. Even replaced that set with the same damn brand. What they did doesn’t define me, Waverly. It’s a shit memory, but I take it and move forward every damn day. Sure, I have fail days–” My breath lodged in my throat as I shifted beneath her soft form, shucking my leather Jacket off, exposing the neat rows of white scar tissue that decorated my other arm. “But they don’t define me either.”

Waverly was still for a long time.

I opened my eyes and found her a few inches from my face, staring at me with unshed tears that glazed her baby blues in an endless ocean. My heart kicked it up a notch, dissolving the soul-deep stare I couldn’t ignore that the unearthed memories created.

“I had no idea,” she whispered. Leaning onto my shoulders, she pressed her mouth to mine, tentative and exploring.

I gripped her tight, then relaxed my hands, trying to release the pressure building inside me and failing. Another fail, but the good sort. Being on edge with wanting for a girl I was fast falling for didn’t count as a negative. Damnit, she was meant to talk to me and all I’d done was spill every secret about myself instead.

She breathed a little faster as she drew back, her pupils dilated.

Good to know this is a different sort of torture for us both.

“That’s the point. There’s always some whispers, but those guys are long gone from campus, and Crush threw out a stack of rumors about alcohol poisoning and a dark, tortured artist. Who knew that led to instant, untouchable sex appeal?” I shook my head, linking my hands around her waist. “Fuck, I adore your curves.”

A pretty pink stain spread over her cheeks, highlighting her blue eyes.

“I’ve never had anyone say that before.” She looked at me shyly, retreating already.

“Nu-uh.” I squeezed her waist, loving the way my hands sank into her and digging my fingers deeper just to gauge her reaction. “One day we’ll get these damn clothes out of the way, if you want to go there. I want to lick every damn inch of you. Lick your tears, give you a reason to scream and break and cry.” I held her frown for a long moment. “I’m fucked up, Waverly. I’ll give you pleasure plenty of nights, but I’ll toy with you, take you to an edge that might scare you, and it’ll give me pleasure. But I’ll be there at the other end to catch you, hold and you love you until you stop shaking.” I kissed her gently. “Then I’ll do it again. Not right now,” I grinned, glad to be back to the comfortable ground of teasing her, just in a way she seemed to like, this time.

“Pity,” she murmured, hiding behind her hair.

A low sound built in my chest. “Don’t you do that. Not with me.” I cupped her chin, drawing her back to me. “Don’t hide from me, Waverly,” I whispered.

She whimpered and leaned forward to kiss me a little harder than I expected. I flexed my fingers on her hips, wishing I knew if she wanted only sweet kisses and touches, or if she’d let go of everything and let her passion rule her. Fuck, I both loved discovering who she was and wished I knew her better all at once.

Returning her kiss with something a little deeper, I crushed her against me for an instant, just to see how she’d react. My hand curled around her thigh and I squeezed hard enough for her flesh to dimple, hard enough to leave an instant handprint but one that would fade after a few minutes. Waverly came up moaning softly and gasping for air, but not once did she draw away from me.

Hell, this girl. I swore then she’d break me.

I wanted to take her clothes off one item at a time, lay her out on the ground and devour her with my mouth and tongue, taste every inch of her. But it would have to wait.

“Your turn, honey,” I murmured, knowing I was being a cruel bastard to break the moment we both needed.

Her gaze shot through with a sudden bolt of awareness. “I– I can't,” she whispered.

“It’s just me. No one else. Just me,” I repeated, aching for her.

She nodded, hair dancing around her full cheeks. “That's the problem.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Of course you don’t.” She rolled her eyes and punched my shoulder.

“Ow.”

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