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Kalen

S ummer Before College:

“I really don’t want to be here.” Despite my girlfriend Juliette tugging on my hand, my feet come to a resounding halt the second I enter the elite country club. I never did like the exclusive vibe here, or that I’m only accepted because I’m dating the mayor’s daughter and was drafted by the Boston Bucks earlier this year. They think that makes me worthy.

As my gaze cuts across the room, taking in all the extravagant costumes, I shake my head. It’s the end of August, not October, so why the board members decided on a masquerade party to celebrate the end of the summer season is beyond me. The ultra-rich are a strange bunch.

“It’s going to be fun,” Juliette assures me as she places her hand on my chest. Her blue eyes sparkle behind her mask as she gives me a wink. “I think the punch is spiked.”

“You know what I think?” She arches her brow at my question. “That I’m allergic to this damn thing.” I scratch my cheek, the hard plastic on the mask and the ridiculous feather irritating my skin. “It’s giving me a rash.” I’m about to tear the damn thing from my face when Juliette pouts and swats my hand away.

“Stop it, Kalen. You’re supposed to be incognito.”

I snort out a laugh as a few guests turn my way and nod. “I’m pretty sure I’m not fooling anyone here.” While I’m not a member, I am a foot taller than most of the members here. Not only is that a dead giveaway, I’ve been playing for the Darien team since I was fourteen, and plenty of the guests here have cheered for me over the years.

Juliette shimmies closer. “Maybe, but I don’t think anyone knows it’s me,” she tells me in a happy sing-song voice.

The fact that she’s my girlfriend, and currently has her hands all over me, is also a dead giveaway, but I don’t say that. Tomorrow, I leave for Boston College, and, well, I don’t want to do or say anything to burst her bubble tonight—especially when a part of me knows this will be our last time together. Honestly, I only came because it was important to her—the country club is so not my thing—and a part of me wanted to give her one last great memory of us together.

A measure of unease grips my stomach at the thought of leaving Connecticut. Not because I know it will be the end of Juliette and me—long distance relationships just don’t work—but I hate the idea of leaving my sister Taylor behind. While I’d like to take her with me, it’s impossible. She has high school to finish, and I won’t be able to watch out for her in Boston, not with my crazy college study and hockey schedule. She’s better off here in Darien with our grandmother for now.

Juliette runs her hands over the lapels on the formal midnight black tuxedo and red tie that she insisted I rent for this event. “Did I tell you how great you look?”

Pushing those dark thoughts to the back of my mind and trying to be present for Juliette, I grin. “Yeah. Did I tell you how great you look?” I ask, even though I know I did. Numerous times.

“Yes.” She grins and spins before me. My gaze drops to admire her curves in her red floor-length gown. I guess it’s my red tie that binds us together, so to speak, and makes it a couple’s costume. “But a girl never tires of hearing it.”

“You look beautiful, babe.”

She giggles and goes up on her toes to kiss me. I slide my hands around her back and hold her as I kiss her back. Someone clears their throat behind us. I inch back and turn to see a woman eyeing us behind her black mask.

“Juliette, Kalen, it’s so nice to see you both.” She puts her hand on my arm and gives it a little squeeze. “Oh my, you do fill that jacket out nicely.”

Alrighty then.

“We were just about to get some punch,” I tell her and slide my hand around Juliette’s back to guide her away.

“Oh, Kalen. I wanted to congratulate you on your draft. Boston Bucks.” Her eyes twinkle as she gives a low whistle. “That’s very impressive,” she adds, her French accent a little thicker than it was moments ago.

“Thanks.” It’s funny, really. I busted my ass off to get a full academic ride to Boston college, but not even my teacher seems impressed by that.

“I can’t wait to watch you play. Maybe I’ll make it to Boston for a game, and you can show me around.”

What the hell…

“Yeah, okay. See you later.” I back up, needing to get away fast.

“Oh.” She pulls her mask down. “It’s me. Connie DuBois.”

“Right.” Cougar DuBois…err…I mean, Connie DuBois. My high school French teacher. I guide Juliette away and she eyes me. “What?” I ask.

“That’s going to happen a lot, isn’t it?”

“If you mean women hitting on me because I’m going to be an NHL player one day, I think the answer is yes.” I shrug. “Hockey culture, I guess.”

She exhales, understanding dancing in her eyes as she nods her head. “Well, tonight you’re mine, Kalen Coolidge.”

I take her hands in mine and smile, because it’s good to know we’re on the same page, and both know that after tonight, we’ll be going our separate ways, no hard feelings. And let’s be honest, while I enjoy her friendship, nothing about us was ever love. Juliette is the most popular girl in school, and I’m the captain of the hockey team. We’re together because she likes the way she looks on my arm.

“Tonight, I’m yours,” I agree.

“Now let’s get that punch.” She takes a step and stops abruptly, a dramatic gasp catching in her throat.

“What?” Even though I’m used to her theatrics—why she’s taking business instead of theater is beyond me—I glance around, trying to figure out who or what she’s glaring at.

She points. “Ohmigod, what is she doing in my dress?” Juliette runs her hands down her jeweled red dress, smoothing it over her breasts and stomach. “I was told this was a one of a kind.”

I follow her finger and spot a girl, who doesn’t look like she wants to be here anymore than I do, pressed against the back wall, as she reads something on her phone. Her head lifts for a brief second and her long blonde hair falls over creamy shoulders.

Something about her holds my attention, and it has nothing to do with her uncanny resemblance to my girlfriend, right down to the blonde hair. “Wow, if it weren’t for the glasses, I’d never be able to tell you two apart.”

Juliette fumes beside me. “How dare she? She needs to go home and change right now.” She grips her dress, lifting it slightly as she pulls away from me, like she’s about to storm the castle, or rather the ball room. The second she starts toward the back wall, I grip her hand to stop her. I don’t know why I suddenly feel protective of the other girl; maybe it’s simply that I don’t want a scene. Maybe not.

Making light of the situation, I begin, “Don’t worry about it, babe.” I touch her hair, brush it behind her ear. “You look better in it anyway.” It’s a small fib. Whoever that girl is hugging the wall, well, she looks good in her costume too. “Tomorrow they’ll be discussing who wore it better?”

“And I’ll win.”

“Yeah, baby, you’ll win.”

A big smile spreads across Juliette’s painted red lips. “I think you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right. Now come on. I’m thirsty.” I lead her in the other direction, and we run into our friends Jared and Mia at the punch bowl. Juliette and Mia instantly begin to gossip about Juliette’s doppelganger, and I turn to our team’s right winger.

“Kalen, dude what’s up?” Jared asks me.

“How’d you know it was me?” I joke and once again resist the urge to tear my mask off.

He grabs the ladle and gestures with a nod toward Connie the cougar. “You getting with that later?”

“Jesus. You saw that, did you?” I laugh as I take in the interest in his eyes. “She’s all yours.”

He wags his brows. “You know what they say about French women?”

I rub my eye, which is watering from the feather threatening to blind me. “Actually, no and I really don’t want to know.”

He kisses the jointed tips of his fingers and joyfully spreads them out. “Passion, baby. Passion.”

“What part of I didn’t want to know did you not understand?”

“I also heard they don’t shave.” He winks at me. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“Lucky me.” I just shake my head and laugh as he grins and glances around.

He gestures toward the girl in red. “Who’s the Juliette wannabe?”

I once again turn and take in the girl holding up the wall. She taps her thumb against her phone, repeatedly, almost unconsciously. A nervous gesture? As her gaze darts around the room, I study the way she’s shifting from one foot to the other, and pushing her glasses up on her nose. Is she getting ready to bolt? She drops her phone into her bag and there’s something familiar about her movements, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Her gaze lands on mine as I stare, and the next thing I know, she’s pushing off the wall and disappearing into the big library off the main room.

“No idea,” I finally answer and take a big drink of the punch, letting the liquid burn down my throat. “What’s in this?” I sputter and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

Jared opens his coat to show me a flask. “A little something extra for you, dude.”

I take another swallow to finish the contents in my cup and Jared fills me up again. I’m not much of a drinker, but I’m sure alcohol will help me get through tonight. Juliette slides her hand into mine, pulling my attention back to her.

“Mia and I are going to freshen up.” She moves in closer, and goes up on her tippytoes. “Back there, in the library,” she whispers. “There’s a secret room behind the bookshelf, to the right of the window on the fourth shelf from the bottom look for the book on ancient Egypt. Pull on it, and a secret door will open. I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.” She slides her hand down and cups my crotch. “Let’s make this a night to remember.”

“Come on,” Mia says, grabbing Juliette’s hand after she too whispered something into Jared’s ear.

“Don’t get caught,” Juliette warns as Mia drags her away.

Jared has a big grin on his face as the girls disappear down the hall. “I mean, it’s not Connie DuBois, but it’s not so bad,” he jokes before taking a big swig from his cup. “Later.” He steps away and I turn to take in the crowd. I recognize a few people from school, and while many of them go way back to kindergarten, I was fourteen when I moved to Connecticut from New York. Living with my grandmother isn’t so bad. I snort out a humorless laugh. Truthfully, it’s a million times better than living with my asshole father. Yeah, after Mom died, I was happy to get the fuck out of there, and I’m grateful my maternal grandmother took Taylor and me in.

A few people nod to me as they pass, and I check my watch. Has it been ten minutes? Setting my cup on the table, I walk toward the library, half expecting to find Juliette’s twin lurking about, but she’s nowhere to be found. She probably went out the back way, happy to get out of here and these ridiculous outfits.

I walk up to the wall and find the book. Feeling like a kid about to get caught with his hand in the cookie jar, I glance over my shoulder before I tug on it. Sure enough a latch releases, opening a secret door. I hurry inside, and my gaze rakes over the back of Juliette’s red dress as light from the library chandelier shines in. Her dress flares as she spins, and I quickly close the secret door, plunging us into darkness.

“Hey,” I murmur as I step into her. “I don’t think anyone saw me.” Her throat works as she swallows and the second I put my hands on her hips a low mewling sound crawls out of her throat. The strange, unfamiliar, almost silent sound coming from my girlfriend gives me pause. Juliette is usually way more demonstrative, loud even. She does like to put on a show. “Are you okay?”

A beat and then, “Uh huh.”

Her voice sounds a bit scratchy. Maybe she’s allergic to the feathers on the mask too.

“Let’s get rid of these shall we.” I pull off her mask, not that I can see her in the dark and then tear off my own. “That’s better.” Wasting no time, I cup her chin, and lift it, my mouth going straight to hers. Her lips are stiff at first, and I’m about to pull back—does she not want this—only to stop when her arms slide around my body. “Nice,” I murmur into her mouth, and deepen the kiss as her lips become pliable beneath my ministrations.

I slide my tongue in, and taste spearmint and warmth and excitement. I moan and deepen the kiss as I back her up and push her against the wall. Fisting her dress, I tug on it, lifting it so I can get my hands on her bare flesh. I touch her panties, and my dick thickens as my fingers graze the soft lace.

I dip my hand inside, and her gasp wraps around my cock and hugs tight. Her nether lips are buttery soft, and she grows wetter as I part them with my fingers. “So wet, baby.” I toy with her clit, circle it to tease her and the second I add pressure, her breathing changes, becomes a little erratic.

Her hands move to my chest, and she touches me, explores, like she’s acquainting herself with my body. I slide a finger into her, and her warm spearmint breath washes over my face in a rush. What is going on with her tonight? I don’t remember her ever being so reactive, like she’s craving my touch and this is the first time I’ve given it to her.

“Yes,” she murmurs, moving her hips, forcing my finger in deep. She untucks my shirt and I suck in a breath as her warm hands race over me. Jesus, I love the way she’s touching me. I don’t know what’s going on with her tonight, but she’s all over me. Sex was always about her and her pleasure. Tonight, she’s touching me like I’m something to be worshiped, like I’m truly important to her.

I add a second finger and a deep cry full of pleasure fills the small space. I fuck her with my fingers, slowly, wanting to take her higher and higher, wanting to draw this out, before I take her over the edge.

Her hands continue to race over my body, her fingers splayed like she’s trying to touch every inch of me. There’s something incredible in the way she’s moving, moaning, and exploring as she completely gives herself over to me like it’s the first time she’s ever been touched. This is different. She’s different. Perhaps because she knows it’s our last time. I really don’t know what’s going on, but if she can give herself to me like this—openly, honestly—maybe there’s more between us than I thought. Maybe we could try the distance relationship thing.

Maybe I’m not ready to walk away from this.

I change the pace and rhythm of my fingers, brushing her G-spot and rubbing the butt of my palm over her clit. A loud cry erupts from her throat, and she grips my shoulders to hang on as her body bursts around me. Her liquid heat coats my hand and I’m seconds from dropping to my knees to press my mouth to her sweetness, when a noise grabs my attention.

“What the hell,” Juliette yells and I turn back to the girl I just brought to orgasm. She lowers her head, her long blonde hair veiling her face as she scoops up her mask, brushes past Juliette and runs from the secret room. My gaze flies to Juliette’s. “I thought...”

“You couldn’t tell?” she accuses, anger flaring in her eyes.

Actually, now that I think of it, there were signs…I just ignored them. “Who…” I shake my head, and hurry from the library, running in to where the party is in full swing. I catch a glimpse of the girl in red as she runs from the country club and that’s when I realize exactly who she is.

Darien Lewis.

Quiet.

Shy.

Socially awkward.

Book nerd.

Who I just finger banged and brought to orgasm in the library.

And I want more…

Fuck me.

“I think you should leave.” I turn around and find Juliette standing there with her arms crossed. Angry blue eyes boring into mine.

“Yeah, okay,” is all I mutter. I take a deep breath and try to get my spinning brain under control.

“Goodbye, Kalen.”

“Bye, Juliette.” With that, I walk out into the warm night and search the parking lot as I make my way to my car. I slide in and drive straight home. Taylor is at a friend’s place for the night and Grandma is already in bed when I arrive, and I’m grateful I don’t have to explain why I’m home early.

I drop into my bed, and stare at the ceiling, my mind going over tonight’s events. Honestly, I don’t know why Darien’s touch, kisses and sweet moans messed with me the way they did, but I damn well want to find out. I close my eyes and eventually drift off. After a restless night, I push from my bed, make a fast trip to the bathroom and hurry back to my car.

I drive through town, stopping when I come to Darien Lewis’ mansion overlooking Long Island Sound. She lives in the biggest house in Darien, and why on earth would her parents name her after the town she lives in?

A guy steps from the house. He makes his way to his car and slows when he spots me. “Can I help you?”

“I…uh.” I scratch the back of my neck. “I’m looking for Darien.”

He glances down the street. “You just missed her.”

“Yeah?” I follow his gaze, but the street is empty.

“She left for college about an hour ago.”

Well fuck…