Page 15 of Wristlocked
“You mean she never actually—?”
“Oh no, she definitely did. Whatever she told you. But not everybody wants to hear about it, right, Vy?”
“I have excellent judgment. Gia definitely wants to hear about it. I’m giving her some ideas to try with Lyot.”
“You are not,” I protest. Weakly. Vaya snorts at me.
“Not very convincing, is she?” she asks Jules.
“Oh, hush,” Jules says, giving her a quick but thorough kiss, which I find myself watching closely. “I swear, she has no filter, even when she’s sober. It’s worse when she drinks.”
“No, it’s totally fine,” I assure her. “I’m having fun.”
“They both like dick, Jules.” Maybe Vaya is a little drunk too. “And they’ve never even explored the possibilities.”
“Oh god.” I giggle again.Iam definitely drunk.
“Not everyone is into sharing, Vy.” Jules is still trying to keep her girlfriend in line, but Vaya is having none of it.
“They’re already sharing. Except not the fun way. Oh shit.” She gives me a worried look. “Did that sound judgy? I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’sfine,” I reiterate. “Maybe…” I trail off, abruptly aware of Lyot leaning against the pool table, watching us. Watchingme. Vaya has not been keeping her voice down, and the heat in his gaze holds an unfamiliar edge that does nothing to cool me down. “I think it’s time to go?”
Jules follows my eyes and nods. “Yep. C’mon, Vy. We’re gonna need to grab dinner and get some decent sleep if you don’t want to be hungover for class tomorrow.”
“Dinner sounds like an excellent plan,” Vaya agrees, perfectly serious. As if she didn’t open a dangerous chasm of illicit possibility in the span of one conversation.
On the ride back, no one sits in the front with the Uber driver. Ren climbs in back with Jules and Vaya, and after their flirtatious banter on the ride out and everything Vaya disclosed at the bar, I’m afraid to turn around. Lyot slides in next to me and pulls me as close as the seat belts will allow. The driver takes one look at us and turns up the radio—a classic rock station—and Stevie Nicks’s voice singing about cocaine and heartbreak fills the van.
“What were you and Vaya talking about in there?” Lyot leans in to whisper, brushing my hair back with his fingers and sending goosebumps down my spine.
“I’ll tell you later,” I whisper, tilting my head to expose my neck.
“Promise?” He nips at the tender flesh below my ear.
“No…”
Alcohol and the remnants of Vaya’s revelations have me languid against him, and I don’t protest when he drags his fingers up the seam of my cropped leggings until they brush against my sex. He makes a low sound in his throat when he feels the dampness there.
“Jesus, Shadow. Now I really need to know what she said to you.”
I squeeze my thighs around his hand and squirm against him. “Shhh. Touch me.” The heat of his body presses into me, and the soft murmurs from the back seat, the sultry music, and the scattered neon from the Vegas night outside the windows create a bohemian cocktail of sensation. I turn my face to his and lean back into the hand on my neck, wantonly parting my lips for a kiss.
His mouth is rich and soft like dessert, melting into mine. He tastes of whiskey and smoke and salt, his tongue drawing me closer, sucking me into his spell. The hand at my nape threads into my hair, dragging his fingernails up my scalp and tugging me closer. His other hand draws slow circles over my clit through the fabric, teasing. I make a frustrated sound before I remember where we are, then spread my legs wide, shifting my hips and chasing the pressure of his fingers. When he chuckles darkly against my mouth I sink my teeth into his lower lip in warning.
He yanks my head back by the hair and holds me there, a bare inch away, his gray eyes flashing with the reflection of passing headlights as he traces the edge of my waistband with devastating delicacy.
“Lyot.” I try to summon the dark entity inside me to spur him faster, but he tightens his grip on my hair with a warning growl.
“Patience, Shadow. I’m just getting started.”
I surrender, and he rewards me by sliding his hand down into my pants. His middle finger finds my clit, slick and swollen, and he continues his deliberate circles, adding pressure with each pass. Pleasure leaks from my core, coating his fingers. My head falls back, and he kisses me again, demanding this time, as he finally fills me with two fingers. I fall open under his mouth and hands, greedy to take him deeper. He strokes the sweet spot inside me until I’m a desperate mess grinding against his palm. Taking control of the kiss, I squeeze the hard length pressing against his zipper, and he rewards me with a low groan. I’m drunk on whiskey, but also on tongue and Lyot and the rising tide of my orgasm. I’m actually fumbling with his button in the middle of the Uber when his thumb finds my clit again and those fingers curl once more over my G-spot.
“Shi-it,” I whisper-moan, burying my face in his neck as everything detonates inside me. He carries me over the edge and brings me down gently, while Stevie Nicks asks if we know how to pick up the pieces and go home.
I’m dozing off by the time we pull up in front of the dorm.
“That was fucking hot, girl,” Jules whispers as she climbs out past me. Before I can decide to be embarrassed, she’s followed by a shirtless Vaya in a lacy blue bra and a flushed and widely grinning Ren. So I laugh instead and shove Ren back with my foot when he tries to fist-bump Lyot.
