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face hovers just above the zipper of her jeans as I hook her legs over my shoulders, inhaling the intoxicating, sweet scent of her. I push up the thin fabric of her top until it just about covers her nipples, my fingers stroking her ribs. She squirms when I scrape my lips along her abdomen. “There’s a difference between hard and fast, little one.” I slide my hands lower, back to her waist, grab a handful of the soft flesh and flip her over, my moves fast but precise, tearing a half-gasp, half-moan out of her lips. She definitely likes it rough.
cover her body with mine, crawling over the beauty, lips on the nape of her neck, her hair
“Can you handle hard?” I whisper, digging my fingers into her pelvic bone, my chest tight.
No way I’ll fuck her when she can’t give me clear, sober consent. “Close?” I ask, careful not to let my tone of voice show how unstable I feel. “Pretty close to heaven...”
“Call it off. Don’t waste your time. Dean’s an ass, omorfiá.”
you think he’ll date you, you’re not half as smart as I pegged you for. He’ll throw you out of his house like a cheap slut once your holes stop meeting his high expectations.”
“You don’t know me very well, so let me give you a quick rundown. I’m not a slut, and I don’t let people walk all over me as they please. Have some dignity. Learn to lose like the adult you claim to be.”
“Could you close the window, please?” I ask the driver, my skin dotted with goosebumps. “I’m a little chilly.”
“How much have you had to drink?” Theo clips, clutching my forearm, creases lining his forehead. “I’m not drunk.” I straighten my back, wriggling out of his grasp. “I had one drink. It’s just a headrush.” Black spots fade to grey. “I didn’t know you smoke.” “I don’t. Call it a moment of weakness. I quit a while ago.”
“You’re upset. What did Dean do?” “I’m not upset.”
“Don’t lie. What happened?” “I’m not upset.”
“Tell me what’s wrong. I don’t like seeing you upset.” Why does he say all the right lines? It’s as if someone built him according to my instructions: handsome, caring, thoughtful. My
throat clogs with frustration. I’d be much happier if he wasn’t so stubborn.
“I’ve seen you with and without makeup. I’ve seen you with mascara smeared under your eyes when you were too lazy to wash your face before falling asleep. I’ve seen you wearing a sexy dress, and I’ve seen you in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt stained with tomato juice. You’re beautiful, little one. Always. But now, you’re tired.”
not been sleeping well lately.” “Bad dreams?” Good dreams. Very good, intense dreams of Theo’s face hanging over mine, his eyes hooded, hungry. His naked body hot to the touch as he drives into me in a rushed rhythm. Vibrant, erotic
fantasies plague me every night, stopping seconds before orgasm blooms and I wake up frustrated.
THALIA WRAPS HER CARDIGAN TIGHTER for the nth time, tiptoeing toward the bathroom and cringing when her toes touch the cool floor. My eyes follow her out, a frown on my face.
you okay?” “Yeah, just tired. I should probably get some sleep, but I need to know what happened, so one more episode. Pass me the blanket, please.”
“One-oh-two point eight. That’s you done for the night, omorfiá. Tylenol and bed.” “I’m just chilly. I’ll be fine when the pills start working. Let’s watch another one.”
“Pretty please.”
“Come here.” I reach behind her back, pulling her to my side. “You’re hotter than a radiator.” “And yet, I’m cold.” She rests her head on my shoulder, eyes on the screen.
She’s out, but I continue stroking the curve of her waist until I’m sure she won’t wake up if I move her. With a bit of maneuvering, she ends up in my arms and then in bed.
She stirs, cuddling her cheek to the pillow. Even pale, almost fucking see-through, she’s beautiful. I’m not as rigid now that Tylenol has brought her fever down.
She stirs again, still asleep when her fingers spread on my chest and her face buries in the crook of my neck. Nothing has ever felt this fucking good. She stays in the same position throughout the night. On the other hand, I wake up too often, pressing my lips to her temple every time to check her temperature. Around four in the morning, she’s way too hot again. “Thalia,”
“Thalia, wake up.” I brush the damp hair away from her face and flick the nightlamp.
“You smell so nice,” she breathes, half asleep already. “You always say that.” “Because you do... so nice.” I stamp a kiss on her head. “Sleep, omorfiá.”
I’ll cuff you to bed when you come back. Thalia: Promises, promises. She’s got me there.
Less than two hours later, the door to the condo flings open, startling Ares, who’s napping on the doormat. “Hey, man!” Jared yells, his arm around Thalia.
“What happened?” I cross the room, looking over her stained uniform, and scraped, bloody knee. “She passed out on the course,” Jared explains, hands in pockets. “I think she’s got the flu. She’s feverish.”
“I shouldn’t have gone in today,” she utters, each word a strained murmur. “I don’t feel so good.” “Yeah, no shit.”
“When did you take Tylenol last?” “Four in the morning.” “You’re so fucking irresponsible, Thalia.”
“You should’ve taken another dose at eight.” I glance over my shoulder at Jared. “Thanks for bringing her over. Don’t expect her to cover any shifts tomorrow or Thursday.”
“Don’t come back until you’re better, alright? Cassidy can cover your shifts over...
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“I’m really sorry,” Thalia mutters, eyes heavy as if she’s about ...
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“You can’t be trusted with your own health.”
oh-three point six. Shit, either we get it down in the next fifteen minutes, or I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Good morning, my long-lost son,” Mom chirps, half elated, half bitter. “What could’ve possibly happened for you to remember my number?” “Hey, Mom, sorry I’ve not been over lately. I’m working all the time.” “Ah, work... of course. The go-to excuse of all my sons.”
“How do I bring a very high fever down fast? Very high as in one-oh-three point six. Tylenol will take half an hour, and that’s too long.” “You’re unwell?”
“Oh, baby, I’ll be there soon, okay? Just take Tylenol and—” “Mom, I’m fine. My...”
“My friend’s not well. Her fever is climbing too fast. What can I do?”
“A friend?” Mom coos in a sing-song voice, and I can imagine how she’s wagging her eyebrows, pulling knowing faces. “Not now, okay? We’ll talk when I come over this weekend. Just tell me what to do.” “Alright, alright. Get her in a lukewarm bath for a few minutes. Not cold, Theo. Lukewarm. It should help. If not, she might need to see a doctor.”
“You’re not going to like this,” I say, scooping her off the couch, bridal style. “You need to get in the bath.” “I like baths,” she murmurs, too weak to properly wrap her limp arms around my neck and hold on. “You won’t like this one, but you have to get in there.
“No, I can’t. It’s too cold. Tylenol will work. I’m fine, see?”
“Please, I don’t want to get in there.” “You have to.”
“Your fever’s climbing too fast, Thalia. Hop in.”
“Turn around,” I say, helping her maneuver in the confined space until she sits between my legs, her back to my chest, teeth clattering. “Breathe, omorfiá. Think about something else.”
T-t-talk to m-me,” she stutters, wrapping my arms around her as if that’ll keep her warm. “Was I ki-ki-kicking about at night-t-t?”
“You didn’t move, but you snore, you know?” “No. No, no, n-no, no. I do-don’t. I—” She inhales, shaking like a baby deer when I wring more water down
“I’m s-s-so cold.”
“You’re doing great. Five more minutes. Try to relax, okay? The more you tense, the worse it is. Once we’re out of here, we can binge-watch “Ozark.”
