Page 20

Tobie

Following Javier into his dorm and up to his floor attracts so many stares that it’s clear what everyone thinks we’re up to.

It doesn’t help that I’m carrying a large paper bag from a well-known lingerie store.

I thought this fake-date agreement was about making Marc jealous and getting revenge, but Javier is turning it into something else. Something more. He seems intent on making me feel better about myself, and I don’t know why.

His room is exactly as I thought it would be.

Everything is in its place. No clutter. Biology textbooks occupy the shelf above his desk, where a gold photo frame sits with what looks to be his parents and a beautiful girl with long, curly black hair and brown eyes, probably his younger sister.

There’s a dark blue comforter on his bed.

Reynolds Hall rooms are significantly bigger than the private rooms in Montgomery. He doesn’t just have more space. He has a queen bed and his own bathroom.

Javier is opening his mouth when his phone vibrates.

He picks it up, his lips flattening, then he glances at me. “Give me two minutes.”

“Sure.”

As he steps outside into the hallway, I put my bag down near the door and wander around, scanning the book titles, peering out his window, and trying not to eavesdrop as he tells someone to stop calling him.

His bedside table drawer is open a little, and the hot pink something inside instantly catches my eye.

Javier is not a hot pink anything guy.

I dart a rapid glance at his door and tell myself to stop being nosy.

Then I pull open the drawer, and my eyes pop.

“Sorry about that.”

I slam the drawer shut and whirl around as Javier reenters the room, tucking his phone into his pants pocket.

His steps slow as he studies me. “Something wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

His eyes bounce from me to the drawer. “You looked.”

“No, I didn’t,” I lie.

Smiling slightly, he closes the distance between us. “It’s okay if you did. The thing I wanted to give you is in there.”

I blush. Naturally, that reveals I know exactly what is in that drawer because I looked.

“I don’t do that,” I say, still blushing as I gesture toward the closed drawer.

He tilts his head. “Do what?”

My face must be bright red with how hot I feel. “You know.”

“Have pleasure?”

“That isn’t what I mean.”

He studies me for two beats. “Let yourself go. Is that what you mean?”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

Sex between Marc and me was almost always initiated by him.

I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t something I felt like I always had to have.

It was just a part of a normal, healthy relationship.

I mean, that’s what my magazines say, and I had no reason to think otherwise, but there were times I did want something more.

“It’s just a tool. That’s all. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about for wanting more.”

I lift my chin. “What makes you think I want more?”

“You looked.”

Everything in his room is perfectly in place. Nothing is out of place.

Everything except a bedside drawer partially left open, and him suddenly walking out of his room, leaving me alone.

“You left it open on purpose. You wanted to see what I would do.”

“I wasn’t expecting the call, but I can’t say I wasn’t curious what you would do if I left that drawer partially open.” He walks over to the bed and sits down, patting the space beside him. “Sit. I want to show you something.”

Instantly, my eyes go between his thighs.

A dimple forms on his cheek. “Not that. At least, not yet.”

Not yet?

As drawn by curiosity as I am by the smile in his eyes, I drift over and sit next to him.

He pulls something out of the drawer.

A small oval object. It’s hot pink and big enough for me to wrap my hand around. I thought it was plastic, but the coating looks like silicone and a thin black cord dangles from the end. “Do you know what this is?”

I shake my head. But that’s a lie. I know what it is because I went onto a website to buy a vibrator years ago and saw something similar.

The fact it comes with a matching hot pink remote control that Javier pulls out from the same drawer is what made me question what it was.

“A vibrating egg. I can control it with a remote,” he says.

“Why would it come with a control?”

He takes my hand and places the egg in the center, curling my fingers around the cool, silicone object. “So I can drive you crazy when I can’t be with you.”

“Uh…”

“Do you know why I have it?”

Eyes big, I shake my head.

“Because I like to ensure sex with my partners is fun. This is part of that. Sometimes it’s fun to experiment.”

“So, you’ve, uh, used it before?”

“I have.” He doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed by it. I didn’t know someone could be so casual and relaxed about sex. I swear I haven’t stopped blushing since the lingerie store.

He presses a button on the remote control, and I jump when the egg gently vibrates in my palm. Other than a barely audible hum, it’s silent.

“It has different levels. That is the most gentle.” He presses again. The vibration kicks up a gear, and my heart does likewise when I imagine having it inside me.

He leans closer, his shoulder brushing mine as I inhale his bitter chocolate, and slightly woodsy scent. It’s as rich and intoxicating as he is. “From feet away, I can do things to you, and no one would have any idea how close you were to orgasming.”

My breathing is growing faster. “What’s the point of that?”

He captures my gaze with a heated, dark-eyed stare. “So you would fuck me absolutely anywhere because you need it that badly.”

“I would never do that,” I whisper, pressing my thighs together.

Not in public. Not me.

He fingers the button, and I jump again as the egg violently vibrates in my palm.

“ Never ?” His mouth brushes the shell of my ear.

I imagine it inside me, pulsing and vibrating until I’d jump him in the street.

And I fidget when it’s impossible to stay still.

I never had a vibrator. Nope. That’s a lie. I had one for approximately two days. My dad never went in my room, always respecting my privacy as a teenager, but if he accidentally found it…

I tossed it in the trash.

The thought of having that egg inside me and not knowing when those vibrations would come…

My stomach tightens.

Javier gives me a knowing look. “You look like you want to try it.”

“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly.

His eyebrow rises.

I move to return it to him, but he shakes his head. “Keep it.”

To my surprise, he hands me the remote as well. “Try it. If you want to take things further, we can.”

“And would taking things further mean you having the remote?”

“It might.”

“You like control.” It’s not a question. It’s a feeling that’s been growing in me since the lingerie store.

I’m not sure I’m ready to hand control of myself to him, but he has such an easy confidence that I can understand why a girl would.

His eyes flare with heat. “I want to make you feel good, and I like taking control.” He turns away while I’m still processing how openly he admits to the things he wants. “You’ll need this as well.”

I blush hot, wishing the ground would swallow me, when he presses a small container into my hand.

Lube.

I look from the bottle to him.

“It’s easier to insert with lube,” he explains.

I can’t believe I’m talking about lube with Javier Duarte.

I blush even hotter, and his smile grows.

I should be recording this conversation for posterity, playing it back to Max to confirm it actually happened, or maybe charging people to listen to it because his accent is a turn-on unlike any other.

“Thanks,” I say, trying to sound unaffected. Pointless, really, with my inability to look him in the eye.

His soft smile will be the end of me.

“ Gatinha , you have the most beautiful blush in the world. Knowing how far it goes makes me want to kiss you all over.”

And I hold my breath as he leans in close and presses the softest, briefest kiss on my lips. “My door is always open.”

I don’t move.

His eyebrow lifts. “Unless you want to stay?”

I scramble to my feet, snatch up my bag of expensive lingerie, and beeline it to the door, shoving the remote control, lube, and vibrating egg inside.

Then I halt inches from the door and turn around because Dad raised me right.

Javier is studying me with a hint of a smile curling his lips. “Thanks for taking me shopping.”

A dimple forms on his right cheek. “My pleasure.”

And I get the hell out of his room before I do the thing I want to do more.

Stay.

When I return to my room with my bag full of expensive lingerie, lube, vibrating egg, and remote I tell myself I won’t use.

I put it away, clean my room, and watch some television as I pick at a chicken salad I made for myself in the communal kitchen.

My attention keeps swinging back to that egg Javier gave me, and I keep wanting to know how it would feel inside me.

It’s the middle of the day, but I draw the curtain, lock my door, strip before I slip under my covers, and twist open the lid for the lube.

And I hold it.

This was meant to be pretend. Just a way to drive Marc crazy by having him see me date the best players on his favorite team.

How is it that I’m holding a tube of lube and getting ready to slip a vibrating egg inside me?

How is this my life now?

I stare up at the ceiling as I apply lube to the egg and slowly, biting my lip, slip it inside me with my knees up rather than out wide. The egg is too wide.

I feel full. Not great. Not as good as it felt when Javier was on his knees in front of me, massaging my ass and sucking my breasts.

My breath catches in memory. That felt incredible.

I pick up the remote, hesitate for a second, then tap the gentlest level-one button.

“Oh God,” I pant, my eyes rolling back as I curl my toes. “Why the hell did I throw my vibrator away?”

I widen my thighs and experiment with the vibration. Level five is intense . Like an orgasm-in-under-five-seconds intense. Way too much for me. I hover between one and three, my breath getting heavier as the pulsing egg makes keeping quiet harder.

I’m pumping my hips in time to each pulse when a knock sounds on my door.

I freeze.

Knock. Knock.

“Tobie?”

I bolt upright, the remote flying out of my hand. I grip my sheets to my chest and stare at the door, wishing this was a dream.

It’s Caleb.

No.

I try to pull out the egg, but I was so heavy-handed with lube and getting a grip on the slippery object isn’t easy. I’m not sure where the cord is, but looking for it in a panic isn’t helping me find it.

“Tobie?”

The door handle twists, and I leap out of bed as the egg continues to vibrate inside me.

“Uh, I’m a little busy.” I get on my hands and knees and crawl around as I peer under the bed for the remote.

“Are you okay?” is his quiet response.

“Sure.” I squeak.

“Is it your head? You sound… different. Do you need Doc?”

No. What I need is to find that remote for this egg or find another way to quickly get it out of me.

“Uh… no. I’m fine.”

He’s silent.

Good. He’s gone. I can breathe again.

“I’m calling Doc. If this is a concussion, he can come and check you over.”

Panic drives me to my feet and across the room. Snatching up my robe, I belt it so tight I wince in pain. I can’t let a doctor see me with a vibrating egg inside me. I will literally die of shame.

Clamping my thighs together, I unlock my door and open it an inch. “I’m fine.”

Caleb is standing outside my door, his cell phone in hand and his forehead furrowed.

He’s in a T-shirt that clings to the muscles on his chest. That is not helpful to my ability to stay calm and look unaffected.

His eyes narrow. “Are you okay? You’re all flushed.”

I bite my cheek as that stupid egg continually pulses inside me. It feels good, and even better while I’m face-to-face with a guy as distractingly hot as Caleb. “Fine.”

What would he say if he knew what I was doing in here? What would he do if he knew how close I was to orgasm right in front of him?

My breath hitches as I fight back my release.

His eyes sweep over my face. “Are you sure? You look?—”

I slam the door shut, press my face to the wood, and bite my lip as my orgasm hits. As I sag against it, my knees wobbly, I’m distantly aware of someone calling my name.

“I, um… I need to go to bed,” I call out weakly.

Caleb is silent for a beat. “I just wanted to say we have practice tomorrow afternoon. A bunch of people should be there so…”

I get it. It’s a good opportunity for more people to see us and for it to get back to Marc.

“I’ll be there.” I turn my back on the door and mentally curse myself when I spot the remote sitting innocently on the end of my bed.