Tempting(16)

“If you’re up for it, yeah.”

When the waitress brought our food, I mulled over going to the party. I wasn’t really feeling up for partying, but the alternative was moping around my apartment, checking my email obsessively.

After our lunch, Leo walked me to my apartment, promising to come pick me up around eight that night.

As I dressed for the party, my eyes drifted again and again to my email, flicking my eyes away when I saw nothing waiting. My fingers itched to send him another email, something haunting and sensual. And just as my feet padded across the floor, I halted.

What was it about him that called to me, that made me want him to want me? I’d never chased a man, not once. I never waited for a phone call—or, in this case, an email—and I most certainly never pined for the unattainable. Why? Because men had never been unattainable for me.

And I say that not to brag, but to illustrate that Adele Morello was a woman who pulled hearts from their chests, leaving them discarded on the floor without a second chance. Adele Morello didn’t want for any man.



* * *



There’s something to be said for the quintessential college party. “Debauchery” came to mind as we walked into the frat house and two naked women ran screaming down the hallway, followed by one naked man. “Disgusting” was an appropriate adjective for the number of times my shoe got stuck to something sticky on the floor.

I wrapped a hand around Leo’s arm as he craned his head back to get a good look at the naked coeds and tugged him with me to the kitchen. A drink was pushed into my hand and I smiled a thank you before walking around the counter and dumping it into the sink, not willing to trust anyone who handed me a drink unless I knew their intentions.

Grabbing the bottle of vodka on the counter, I poured a solid inch into the bottom of the red plastic cup and handed it to Leo. “That’s more than a shot, Add.” He raised an eyebrow in my direction after looking inside the cup.

“Pour some Coke in it.” I gestured to the cans stacked on the counter. I poured the same amount in my cup and tossed it back, relishing in the burn as it coated my throat and slid down, mingling with the lingering annoyance in the pit of my stomach.

After checking my email for the fiftieth time that day, I gave myself a little pep talk.



Nathan does not have the only dick in town, Adele. Quit acting like it and catch another one.



But upon surveying the choices in front of me, I remembered why I pursued the older guys, the ones with a hint of darkness, the esoteric men in a sea of predictable dudes with predictable habits. Guys who bought you a drink and acted like it bought them a ticket to your vagina. Who thought their mouths served one purpose. Men who treated the bedroom like a race instead of an amusement park.

Just the thought of Nathan effortlessly flipping me from my knees to my back and sliding inside of me in one breath caused my arms to erupt in goosebumps. I leaned against the counter as Leo greeted a few of his teammates and brought a hand to my neck, where Nathan had bitten me. If I closed my eyes, I could remember his five-o-clock shadow scraping my sensitive flesh before his teeth bit down, releasing some pent-up primitive need within me. I’d launched myself on him every time he pulled away, legs and arms winding around him.

He made me want to be savage. He made me hungry for something I didn’t know I needed, something I knew I wouldn’t find at this party.

And as much as I’d thought being his student gave me an advantage, it most certainly didn’t. Because seeing him in such a professional atmosphere all week while my fingers had gripped my pen to the point of discomfort, left me aching for the night we’d had, the night that had ended too soon.

“Add,” Leo’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “This is Jeremy.”

Jeremy smiled at me, no doubt expecting me to collapse in a puddle of hormones over his baby blues and dimples. “Hey,” he said, looking me up and down.

“Hi,” I replied, not batting an eyelash. I glanced at Leo and gave him a Nope, not happening look before turning around and pouring a refill.

“Leo says you’re a Creative Writing major.”

Fucking Leo. If Leo thought this guy was remotely my type, he was assuming I was either 1) super drunk, 2) super desperate or 3) not the real Adele, the Adele who didn’t go after college dudes who reeked of drugstore cologne.

“Sure am,” I said, tipping back the vodka.

“That’s cool.”

I barely resisted rolling my eyes. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m still undecided.” He bobbed his head in a weird nodding way and looked around the room. “Five year plan, yeah.” When I said nothing to that, he seemed to take my silence as an invitation to tell me all about his life. “My dad threw some money at me and told me to go to school, so I’m kind of just going with the flow, ya know, partying it up and stuff.”