Page 100 of Beautiful Sinners

I gulp down a long sip of my iced coffee, hoping it’ll help cool me off. They were really fabulous orgasms. I’m forced to cross my legs to help relieve the sudden ache that fires to life.

Emboldened by her positive reaction, I ask, “Has Drake ever tied you up?”

She snort-laughs and pushes her glasses back into place. Today, the frames are a bright blue. “Other way around.”

Drink forgotten, I gawp at her beaming, girl-next-door face.

“What? I may look like a Taylor Swift, but I’m all badass Beyoncé in the bedroom.”

I absolutely love this girl.

“You are very badass.”

She produces a square plastic container and pulls the lid off to reveal red seedless grapes and apple slices, then hands me a toothpick. “Convenient for when you haven’t washed your hands.”

I take it and spear a grape. “How was your weekend?”

“Went to a Greek party with some girls on my floor on Saturday. Discovered a little off the beaten-path art supply store on the other side of campus off Carver Street. Pretty boring compared to your weekend… and you’re blushing again.”

Damn my stupid fair skin.

“Oh, before I forget,” I tell her as I unzip my backpack.

Aleksander must have taken the dresses to the dry cleaners because they’re neatly folded in sealed clothing bags that carry a fancy name scrolled in gold lettering. Raquelle’s eight-hundred-dollar pair of high heels are also in their own silk drawstring bag.

Just when I think I have him pegged as the bad guy, he does nice stuff that only confuses the hell out of me.

“I, um…” I hold the items out for her. “Thank you so much. The guys loved the blue dress,” I flat-out lie since I never got to wear any of the items she lent me.

“You’re very welcome.” She shoves everything into her bag and sits back, a diabolical grin overtaking her face. “So, you want to be tied up?”

CHAPTER 35

The auditorium lights are dimmed, and the professor’s voice is hypnotically dull as he explains derivatives in the most boring way possible.

“Wake up.”

Raquelle elbows me when I start to nod off. It’s been almost impossible to keep my eyes open during class.

Hiding my yawn, I check the time on my phone and see a text message waiting from Constantine. No actual message, just an attached image. Grateful for the distraction, I open it. Constantine is standing in his bedroom, holding a large white poster board with the message “Will you be my girlfriend?” written on it in big black letters.

The biggest, goofiest smile blooms across my face. Raquelle leans over to see what I’m looking at and sighs dreamily.

“That’s so sweet. Just like the movieLove Actually.” At my blank look, she says, “The scene where the guy stands at Keira Knightley’s door and tells her that he loves her even though she’s with another guy. Have you seriously not watched that movie?”

“Nuh-uh,” I reply and text Constantine back.

Me: YES!

“It’s a must-see. I’m calling movie night. I’ll invite some of the girls from my floor, and we can make it a thing. Watch a movie, get drunk, do each other’s nails, gossip about guys.”

Sounds exactly like what Andie and I did.

“I’m in. Just no tequila shots. Tequila makes me do bad things.” Like dance on bars and make out with three guys in public.

“Someone’s got a story to tell,” Raquelle sing-songs.

Cacophony erupts when the professor dismisses class, and everyone rushes to get out. I gather my stuff and move into the aisle to let the people in our row get past.

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