Page 34 of Revolve
She’s smooth as silk and pretty as sin. It’s hard for me to ignore that fact while I think about how I’d let her drown me in whatever else she lets me taste from her lips.
Sierra stays close, her breath feathering over my skin, and we remain like that, as though neither of us can decide whether we should pull away or close the space between us.
“There you are!” Kian shouts when he stumbles into the living room. “Seb and Cole asked if you could drive them home. The guys said I can crash in your room tonight.”
Sierra pushes away from me, but I don’t release my hold on her wrist. When she goes for another sip of her can, I snatch it from her and place it on the floor. Whatever that was between us was a product of alcohol, and I’d much rather she test that reckless confidence on me than some prick at this party.
“Unless you’re drinking.” Kian’s gaze bounces between us, his eyes narrowing.
“I’m good,” I say as I stand. Although, even the sip of alcohol from pouty red lips could make it feel like there’s six shots of Everclear running through my bloodstream.
He gives me two thumbs up and disappears. Sierra’s awfully quiet beside me. I don’t know what she’s thinking or whatever that was on the couch, but I don’t want it to end.
“Do you—”
“Don’t come tomorrow,” she says abruptly, before nearly sprinting out of the living room. I can’t think straight, but when Cole and Sebastian chant my name, I’m forced to walk out the door instead of following her. Being Sebastian and Cole’s designated driver is annoying as hell. When they refuse to get out of the car, I leave them in there. They can find their way inside.
In the kitchen, my hands itch for something to drink, but alcohol seems bland after tonight. However, I do notice that the bottle of Absolut I’ve kept in the freezer is missing. I’m going to kill Sebastian for stealing it again. But it might be for the best.
“Shit, Dylan. At least turn the lights on,” Summer says.
I swivel my head to see her at the threshold wearing a baggy Toronto Thunder T-shirt.
“Hey, Sunny.”
“Oh, I forgot to ask. Did your meeting with Kilner go well? Are you ice skating now?”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be great. I’ll be reinstated,” I say, even though I’m not sure that’s the truth.
Summer shuts the fridge with a decisive thud and steps in front of me. “You’re not fooling me with this act. I see you’re hurting, Dylan. Just talk to me when you need to.”
“I will.”
Summer sighs but squeezes my shoulder before turning to grab a can of whipped cream from deep in the fridge, avoiding eye contact as she sprints out of the kitchen.
Yeah, weird fucking night.
FOURTEEN
SIERRA
HAVE I MENTIONEDI do stupid things when I’m drunk?
Stupid enough that even with the alcohol in my bloodstream last night, sleep refused to come when Scarlett and I stumbled back to the dorm. Instead, I got in bed, and the night replayed in vivid flashes: long fingers gripping my waist, his rough voice, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed the alcohol from my mouth.
I have no clue where that version of me even came from, but Dylan’s energy is contagious. It all felt reminiscent of the braver me, the one who didn’t have so much to lose. It’s why I felt restless under my covers last night, my fingers drifting beneath the waistband of my pajamas. I haven’t been able to pleasure myself since the accident, never cared to, neverwantedto. But with just a light brush of my fingers, pressure started to build, rumbling to life like an old car. All I could hear and feel were his voice and hands, his thighs and arms caging me in. Just as quickly as the electric feeling began to spark across my body and I thought I finally did it, the impending orgasm died. The euphoria was instantly lost to my loud, restricting thoughts. Snuffed out like a flame.
Call it shame or guilt, I don’t know, but it held me back from an orgasm that I’m sure would have had me moaning a name I shouldn’t.
So this morning, I woke up a little frustrated and felt like my tension headaches were coming back. Now, sitting in the bleachers, it’s exactly three minutes before six and I’m still scrolling through forums looking for potential partners. Maybe Lidia missed someone. Maybe I overlooked a hidden gem.
I stop on a profile, swiping through pictures of the skater on the forum and reading his biography.
“Last-ditch effort?” Dylan’s deep voice cuts through my thoughts, yanking me back to the present. “I heard he has gonorrhea.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that when I’m having sex with him during our long program.”
He snorts. “I doubt he’d last that long.”
