Page 16 of Damnation
Right you are.I can almost see the cheeky smile spreading across his face, delighted with his own response.
So why do you want me to come there?
I want to show you something.
Something?
I waited with bated breath until his answer comes a minute later:The sink.
Huh?
I want to show you how good you’d look bent over it…he adds.
A powerful blush spreads across my face, and I almost drop my phone. I clear my throat, looking around to make sure no one noticed my intense reaction.
I stare, wide-eyed, as the three little dots disappear and reappear on the screen before a new message comes in:…and make you feel just how much I’ve missed having you underneath me, being inside you…
I know I’ve turned entirely red. My hands are tingling, and my heart is pounding. Is he serious? Am I? Do I really want to ditch reading group for a quickie with Thomas in the staff bathroom? Jesus, the burstof arousal that moves through forces me to clench my thighs together as I try to get just a tiny bit of relief from the intense need that his proposition has kindled in me. Well, my body’s answer is a loud and clearYES. And it’s insane because the Vanessa of a few months ago would never have put a boy ahead of her studies or allowed him to distract her from her precious books.
I take a few deep, calming breaths before replying.I’ll let you in on a secret: I’ve always been fascinated by bathroom fixtures.
It’s marked as read immediately, and he responds within seconds withGood girl.I bite my lip, lock the screen, and stick the phone back in my pocket. Then I stand up, feeling my knees tremble as I do.
“Sorry, Kate,” I break in, interrupting her reading (which I long ago stopped paying attention to). “I’m not feeling so good; I think my blood pressure is low. I’m just going to go get some air.”
I can feel each of the book club members looking attentively at me.
“No problem, Vanessa, go ahead. We’ll update you later on the group.”
I nod, and as a trickle of sweat makes it way down the side of my face, I hastily gather my things. In seconds, I’m out of the classroom and headed for the staircase that will take me to the fifth floor, and still I can’t entirely believe that I’m really doing this. But then, as I turn the corner and prepare to climb the first step, I run into Alex.
“Hey, don’t you have reading group?” he says, grabbing my arm to keep me from stumbling.
“Y-yeah,” I stammer, caught red-handed. “I’m just…not feeling well today.”
“You’re sick?” He immediately puts the back of his hand against my forehead to check my temperature. After apparently establishing that it’s within the norm, he takes my books out of my arms, freeing me from that small burden.
“Don’t worry, I’m okay. I just needed some air,” I babble hastily, hoping to sound at least a little credible. Lying to a group of fellow students is one thing; lying to my best friend is different. He knows me so well that it would take him about three seconds to figureout I’m not telling the truth. Fortunately for me, he doesn’t seem interested in analyzing my facial expressions or doubting what I’m telling him.
“You’re better now?” he asks me. As I nod, I feel my phone vibrate in my bag. I start and then dig the phone out, unlocking the screen to see a new message from Thomas:On my second cigarette now; don’t make me light a third. What happened to you, stranger?
My lower stomach tenses as I quickly tap out a reply assuring him that I’m on my way.
“Well, if you’re not doing anything else, let me take you to lunch,” Alex puts his arm around my shoulders and starts guiding me toward the canteen. “I’m awfully hungry, and I want to ask you for a favor.”
I hesitate, then eke out a small: “Right now?”
He cocks his head, confused, and looks at me. “Do you have another commitment?”
Well, sort of… Can the promise of getting bent over the sink in the staff bathroom be termeda commitment?
I rub my eyebrow with my thumb and say, “No, I suppose not.”
Resigned, I text Thomas and let him know that I’ve encountered an unexpected situation. Then, with a tense smile, I force myself to follow Alex.
The scent of boiled cauliflower and floor cleaner in the cafeteria makes my nose wrinkle in disgust. Why can’t they ever make an edible meal instead of this vomit-inducing swill? On the plus side, the cafeteria is half empty, so we don’t have to wait in line.
“So what’s this favor?” I ask.
