Page 75 of Terror Tuesday
His chest rises rapidly with a sharp inhale. With his softened breath, he whispers, “Only by girls who taste like cherry lip gloss and sound like sin.”
Fingers slip between my legs and nudge them open a little, and it’s enough to make me bite my cheek. He leans close again.
“You should see the things I want to do to you in this booth. Right now. Loud music, people everywhere, fluorescent lights—doesn’t matter. Your touch is the only thing I can focus on.”
Silence settles between us like a thin wire ready to snap. If he touches me, I’ll flood my panties beneath my skirt. And, as if heread my mind, his hand slips over my thigh, then dances slightly higher, dangerously close to where I want him to go.
“Want to get out of here?” A vision of entering a barren bachelor apartment on the north end of campus enters my mind. What kind of place does Elliot live in?
“Yeah, I do. But…I live with a bunch of dudes.”
Swallowing, I press my lips against his cheek demurely. “How about mine?”
His eyes widen. “Is the president of the sorority allowed to have boys in her room?”
“No.”
His lips curl into a nefarious grin. “Let’s go.”
I’m overcome with the giggles as we venture through the basement halls where I sneaked Elliot in.Omegahouse is quiet for a Friday night. Most girls are out at parties or on dates. None would say anything if they saw me, but there’s still the fear that they would know…
Elliot doesn’t belong.
Which is why I want to do this.
I’ve never had a one-night stand, a fling, or a situationship. Can’t I? Could I be free enough to do that without worrying where it will lead the next day?
He makes me feel safe enough that I could.
By the time we enter the door of my bedroom, locking it, I press his back to it and try to climb his tall figure. My thigh hitches around his waist, and he catches it, thrusting his firm erection into my core as we meet lips. It’s sloppy, not as romantic as the other night. But it’s fuckinghot.
He tastes familiar now. And flashes of being on my knees in the catacombs are the only thing that breaks me away. I shake my head to get rid of Vanq.
Not now. Not like this.
I need Elliot. I need to be someone else. Andbe withsomeone else.
We’re huffing air into each other’s mouths when Elliot’s eyes narrow at my face with a fierceness that almost makes me afraid. Lust covers his heavy brow. “Olivia…I want you to use me. Do to me whatever you want. Just…fucking use my body.”
If I wasn’t turned on before, I’m a sopping mess for him now.
“Then get on my bed. Strip. I want to see everything.”
I’ve never done anything like this.Commandedsomeone else and taken charge. But something deep within me screams to the surface until that’s exactly what I want. I need him beneath me, writhing, begging, crying, whimpering.
All the other times, I felt fat or embarrassed. Tried to hide a roll with a perfect tilt of my side… That’s all gone, and now, all I can think about is gettingmoreof Elliot in me.
He smirks, then peels off his jacket, tossing it onto my chair. Eyes still focused on me, he sheds his T-shirt next, taking the black tank top underneath halfway with it. I gasp. Elliot’s been hiding how ripped he is.
His head drops as he stares at his six-pack along with me, then he gives me some puppy-dog eyes. “Lifting laptops is hard work.”
My mouth waters. Especially when he undoes his belt, folds it in half, and snaps it, then unbuttons his jeans. When he tugs his undershirt back down and tosses the leather strap onto the chair, I snag it.
Once his pants are off, I stare at his bulging erection beneath his boxer briefs. Another vision of the last time I was playing with one flashes across my brain.
Vanq! Get out of my mind!
Part of mewantshim to see. To watch as I get off using Elliot. Maybe he’ll be furious. He’ll bust in here and do something reckless.
