Page 41 of Validus Vale Academy 1
I fumble with frozen hands and then pick it off the floor. Huh? Muscle rub.
“Put it on my back,” he tells me, stripping his shirt off. When he turns, to my surprise, I see a lot of bruises. One particularly large mark disappears down beneath the waistband of his slim uniform pants.
What the? He’s an Elite. How come he hasn’t just gone to a healer about his injuries? Magical healing costs mega-bucks, but that’s not a problem for Cosmo Drakeward.
I don’t understand. Though, honestly, I don’t care that much. Good job, whoever beat him up. It takes away from the sting of having to oil him.
My hands tremble as I uncap the bottle, and the smell of wintergreen fills my nose. I squeeze a dollop of the cream onto my hands as I stare at Cosmo’s shoulders. There are shadows of blue, green, and yellow mottling his skin. He’s been hit a lot, sometime recently.
“What are you waiting for?” he barks. I tentatively put my fingers on his flesh, and he immediately flinches. “Gods,” Cosmo mutters, turning around and looking at me like I’m the most annoying thing on the whole planet. He flicks his fingers, and just like that, my body is back to a normal temperature. Then he swings around a dining chair and straddles it, leaving an expanse of muscled back to me. “Get on with it.”
I stare at the mottled bruises, and my mind flicks to Ludo. When the janitor had helped me in the gymnasium, fresh injuries had littered his surprisingly young face.
“Some hold up back there, dud?” Cosmo snarls.
Stifling a sigh, I gingerly start to move my hands around Cosmo’s body. His muscles feel hard and stressed when I press either side of his spine. Good. I hope they really hurt. I dig in a thumb as hard as I can, and he groans.
Unfortunately, in pleasure.
“Keep doing that.”
Just great. My hands are small, but reasonably strong, so I continue up the spine and onto his shoulders. He lets out another moan, and a confusing thrill of achievement runs through me. I don’t want to give him pleasure, so why did I like hearing him respond to my touch? Must be Stockholm Syndrome.
I keep my hands moving until Cosmo abruptly stands, knocking me backwards. “That’s enough,” he says, pulling his shirt back on. “Pour me a whisky.”
After shaking out my stiff hands, I do what I’m told, filling a glass with liquor that probably costs more than a month's rent. Cosmo sinks back into an armchair as I remain standing. “Now, dud, I want you to tell me exactly what happened on your last day here. From the top…”
Again? “Fine. It was the day after the Halloween party. We decided to ditch the party last minute, and had stayed in all night fucking our brains out instead.” Cosmo frowns, but I’m on a roll now. “I woke up with Donovan kissing my neck, and with Wes’ face between my legs—you want more details on that?” I snap, kinda enjoying winding him up.
Cosmo looks back at me, a little nauseated. “Gods, no. Fast the fuck forward.”
“Fine. We stayed in the apartment for breakfast,” I tell him. “Then the guys and I went to the lottery lodgings, and they helped me pack. Actually, they were no help with the packing of my suitcase, but Wes did fully pack my pussy with…”
“Do not talk to me about sex with Donovan and Wes ever again.”
Pfff.
“While we ‘packed’ we discussed when we’d see each other next.” My momentary second of humor evaporates immediately.
“And that was going to be when, exactly?” Cosmo’s eyes never leave my face, and I squirm under the gaze.
“They were going to fly into London on December 13th.” Gods. The heaviness of parting had been awful, but the twins' plan to come to the UK for winter break meant we’d only be separated for a few weeks. “After that, Wes borrowed a car and they drove me to the airport,” I continue.
“Actually, they didn’t borrow a car,” Cosmo grumbles. “The assholes took my keys without permission.”
Oh, I didn’t know that. I can add it to my investigation notes. I stumble a little as exhaustion sweeps over me again. I put out a hand to steady my spinning head. Cosmo sighs. “You can rest.”
Thank Gods. I head towards the soft, squishy sofa, but he stops me. “Nope, not there. On your knees, in front of me.”
Fuck my life. Is he serious? Stupid arrogant wanker. Of course, he’s serious.
I get onto my knees, unable to do anything else. “Now, go on,” he barks.
Just grit your teeth and get on with it, I tell myself. “They stayed with me until it was time to go through security and,”
“And what?Don’t leave anything out.” Cosmo is looming over me now; I’m kneeling face-to-crotch. Wintergreen scent and hot musk fill my nose, and I watch a bead of sweat trickledown the rippling abs, into the small trail of golden hair that leads below his waistband.
Gods! I give myself a mental slap. I loathe this man. Finding his body at all attractive makes me want to poke my eyes out. I’m so ashamed of myself.
