Deep End

by Ali Hazelwood

charisma like hers sprouts from base pairs nestled in chromosomes.

Until a few weeks later, when everything changes.

“Maybe the elephant’s just…blindfolded?” He nods slowly. “And tied up.” “And doing as it’s told.” He looks like he might find that more appealing. “What a good elephant.”

“Come closer,” he orders. Lukas stopped a step behind me. I turn and frown up at him. “Why?” “Because I just asked you to, Scarlett.”

The subject line just reads What you need. The body: If you decide to go for it, I think it should be me.

I’m starving, but my walk to the athlete dining hall is slow, because I’m busy writing an email to one Dr. Olive Smith.

“Lukas, we were just talking about you. May I introduce you to Scarlett Vandermeer?”

“You really do like your authority figures, don’t you?” I gasp in outrage. And then…then I laugh. “Seriously?”

“Won’t know till we try,” he says quietly, low, and that warmth inside my belly rekindles, slinks up my spine, pinkens my cheek.

“Actually.” I feel the ghost of his hand between my shoulder blades. The soft brush of his thumb at the top of my spine. It’s barely there, but it guides me in the direction of the stairs. Whispers at me exactly where to go. “I have absolutely nothing better to do.”

Scarlett: Do you really want to be reminded of my computational superiority that often? Unknown: I do. I have a thing for women who are smarter than me.

Before I can vacate his seat, one of his hands wraps around both my ankles. He lifts them, holds them up as he sits down, and then lowers my bare feet in his lap.

Suddenly, Lukas’s hand is a manacle around my ankle, like I’m something for him to hold and control and restrain.

But he will not, not unless I give him the go-ahead, and that’s the kind of belly-warming knowledge that makes that ache even sharper.

“I have no interest in that.” I must look skeptical, because he continues. “What I want from you requires enthusiastic consent, not convincing.”

“You are, though.”

“Come on, Scarlett.” His mouth twitches. “You know who I want to have sex with.”

For people like me, like him—like us—trust is the real currency. I nod, hazy.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“I think you’re better than me, or Zach, at this.” I don’t strictly need Lukas to tell me that I’m good at something, especially when I already know that, but it’s still nice. A quiet warmth. My knees no longer shake, but I’m empty. Electrified. “Love the trust.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not cold, Scarlett,” he says. “You’re…soft.” “I’m not soft.” “You are with me.”

“We are adult men,” he simply says, sliding the plate toward me. Did he…did he make me a snack? Is it a thank-you for the—

“It’s a not-a-manchild thing,” Lukas counters. He hasn’t eaten any apple yet. Is this just for me?

“The first was about two years ago.”

“You are even wetter than in the lab. Is it because I didn’t let you come? Because I’m in charge?”

“Already? You are perfect, huh?”

Oh, sweetheart. Already? Just from this?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” My belly swoops at the endearment. His tone lives somewhere between sympathy and amusement. “If you don’t think that I’m very aware of your presence, always, you have no idea what’s going on.”

“It’ll be okay, baby. No matter what happens, you will still be you. No matter what happens, you will be okay.”

learned what an inward dive is after the first time you mentioned them to me. And I know one when I see it.”

“Okay, why do you keep calling me—”

He nestles inside, less of an inch. I grip the edge of the bench to avoid coming. “I fuck you—” He pushes deeper. “Because—” Deeper. “It’s all I want to do—” Deeper. “From the moment I wake up.” He hits a spot, and…I hope he’s halfway inside, I really do, because I’m already coming, clutching around the too-big, hard width of him, flutters I cannot help. It’s so intense and shuddering and good, I’m lost to everything but my pleasure, and I almost don’t hear the rest of what Lukas whispers in my ear. “I fuck you because you’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever felt, Scarlett.”

“It’s a matter of principle,” I explain primly. “I’m sure you understand.” He seems pained. “I do, and it’s making me reconsider several things about myself.”

I frown. “What’s a good luck troll?” “You know. Those little creatures who watch over us and bring good fortune.” “I most certainly do not know of…” I laugh. “Oh my god, is that why you’ve been calling me troll?”

Scarlett: He probably thinks we’re dating. We should set the record straight. Lukas: Or maybe we should just start dating.