I took a shortcut through campus and made my way up to their room. A picture of a cow with her face on it was taped to her door. Huh. Original. The girls in that dorm really needed to up their game if they wanted to intimidate her. I highly doubted something like that would make a tough girl like Trace cry.
Then again I would know.
I was the one causing the tears.
Shit.
I slid my all access card across the door and let myself in then paused. Mo’s bed… I usually sat on her bed, but Trace’s was so tempting that I found my legs carrying me to the opposite end of the room.
Everything was plain. From her white duvet to her bare walls. It was as if she didn’t really have a life outside of going to school. Guilt gnawed because part of me wondered if the reason she ’hadn’t put pictures on the walls was because she couldn’t really afford anything.
I thought of her grandma’s shoes.
And the boots Chase had given her.
My gut sank lower and lower as I plopped onto her bed and lay down, closing my eyes as I imagined her tossing and turning against the sheets.
Great. So now white duvets did it for me. I was getting so aroused it was pathetic. Her scent was on everything from her pillow to the damn air — I was saturated in her, and I wanted to stay that way for just a few seconds, because in those seconds, on her bed, I felt calm.
Just as I was about to close my eyes, the door burst open. With a huff, Trace threw her bag onto the floor, peeled the shirt from her body, and tossed it on top of the book bag.
Forget being aroused — I was gone, ready to rip the rest of the clothes from her body and slam her against the nearest wall and then take her on the desk. Then I’d run my tongue up and down her thighs until she was panting with--
Holy hell, she reached for her zipper. Should I cough? Make a noise? My body demanded I stay as silent as the grave, but then I started thinking about that stupid ethics class, morals, being a good human being…
Hell, just give me hell. I didn’t want to be the angel. After all, I’d always been the opposite, so why change now?
Her face was adorable, like she was angry at the skirt for being on her body in the first place. I let out a chuckle — totally by accident.
Her hands froze. Trace glanced up, and her eyes went from shocked to horrified in seconds.
I stayed put and yawned. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. Continue.”
Eyes narrowing, she flipped me off. Damn if that wasn’t an invitation. I laughed harder as she reached for the closest piece of clothing she had and threw it over her body.
I laughed even harder when I noticed it bore a picture of a unicorn, and it was inside out. Flustered much? Damn, I wanted to taste the blush from her neck. Steal it and keep it for myself.
“What do you want!” she snapped.
“Not sex, but thanks for the offer.” Total lie. I’d take sex, lots and lots of sex. With her.
“I was not…” She took a few deep breaths and looked like she was counting to herself. “Why are you here?”
“Waiting for my sister. What else?” Truth, though to be honest, I could have waited outside, but then I would have missed out on the show. What a crime.
Her shoulders sagged with relief.
“What? You disappointed I didn’t want an afternoon screw?”
“Not at all.” She sat on Mo’s bed. “Besides, if you needed one, all you’d have to do is knock on any door on this floor. Just be sure to use protection. I know how you are about germs.”
“Only yours,” I sang then offered up a teasing wink.
A pillow was launched in my face. I caught it mid-air and smiled.
“Can you at least wait for her outside?”
“Nope.”
“Why?” Her teeth ground together, and her blush deepened.
I answered her as honestly as I could. “Because I like your bed. It’s comfortable.”
“It has my germs, and I swear to you, I drooled all over my pillow last night.”
I hadn’t taken the girl for a huffer, but she was doing a lot of that — huffing, looking away, crossing her arms — it was adorable. “I only hate germs on people, not objects.” I glanced at my watch like she didn’t make me want to strip naked and slam my mouth against hers. I put my hands behind my head, closing my eyes against the images playing in overdrive.
“Why?” came her soft voice.
“Why what, Farm Girl?”
“Why don’t you like people touching you? Is that your rule or an Elite thing?”
I hadn’t expected that question. All the things she could have asked, and she’d asked that? Something so personal, something so… embarrassing and horrifying that I immediately clammed up and wanted to reach for my gun.