With Every Heartbeat Page 17

  From the attitude in the way she answered me, I didn’t believe her. In fact, I think she only said no as a way to punish me for not giving her her way. The urge to apologize rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down even though I wasn’t sorry; I just hated displeasing anyone.

  Then another thought occurred to me. “Zoey wanted you to spend the day with her?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “But she just told me she was going to the game with Caroline tomorrow.”

  Cora’s brow puckered with confusion, and then she slowly shook her head. “No. I didn’t say Zoey. I said Rachel.”

  “Uh...no. You said—”

  “I said Rachel,” she bit out aggressively and stepped closer to me, her mouth tight with displeasure. “Maybe you have so much Zoey on the brain that’s what you thought you heard.”

  I flushed and glanced away. I’d been certain she’d said Zoey, but crap, had she said Rachel? Was I thinking about Zoey too much?

  Mumbling, I nodded. “Okay. Sorry.” Great, I’d ended up apologizing anyway. “Call me after the game whenever you get home then. I don’t have to work. We can do something if you want.”

  Cora’s frown immediately ironed into a smile. “Sure thing, baby.” She smoothed her hand over my chest and reached up on her tiptoes to give me a kiss. I’m not sure why I shifted my face at the last moment so that she merely glanced the side of my lip instead of giving me full mouth-to-mouth contact. Kissing her right then just didn’t feel right.

  I stroked my fingers down her hair, though, and gave her a smile before bidding her farewell. Then I escaped the kitchen. I controlled the next impulse I had; I didn’t glance back at Zoey’s closed bedroom door as I walked down the hall.

  The next day, we won our second home football game of the season. Cora never called. I tried contacting her but was sent straight to voice mail, so I just chilled at home before heading to bed.

  Late that night, I once again woke in the early hours, all because of a disturbing dream. But this one wasn’t a nightmare. Not by a long shot. Yet it rattled me just the same. Testosterone flowed so thickly through my veins that my erection literally throbbed for release. I was tempted to reach down and take care of myself, just to alleviate some of the pressure in my groin, except I felt too guilty.

  It had started as a normal enough wet dream. I was rolling around naked on a bed with Cora until she pinned me down on my back and crawled on top of me, straddling my lap. Just when I swear I could almost feel her sit on me and take me inside her, Zoey appeared out of nowhere. Her heady shampoo scent filled my nostrils. She was wearing the same sleep shirt she’d been in the night before, with her bare cigarette-butt-burned shoulder on display. But this time around, her nipples were hard and poking through the thin cloth.

  Her green eyes were full of heat and longing when she met my hungry gaze. “Eat me,” she begged as she gathered up the hem of her nightshirt, exposing her legs and climbing on top of me to frame my head with her thighs. I wanted my mouth on her and my tongue inside her so bad; my jaw began to ache and my mouth watered.

  I closed my eyes, eager for her to sit on my face, just as Cora did sit on my dick, taking me deep and tight.

  My eyes shot open as I realized I was awake and alone in my own bed, gripping myself and pumping my fist up and down the heavy column. I hadn’t meant to take care of myself at all. But I ached so much I actually hurt. And my hand kept moving, sliding up and down, no matter how loudly my brain was shrieking at me to stop; I didn’t stop until I was coming all over my stomach. And I just kept coming. It was one of the strongest orgasms I’d ever had. I ground the heels of my feet into my mattress and gritted my teeth as I humped my hips into my fist. It would’ve been so much better if I’d been inside a woman. I tried to picture Cora’s face as the last strong burst left me, but it ended up being green eyes I saw watching me, not blue.

  Feeling awful because I hadn’t been able to help myself, I covered my head with my hands and physically tried to push the stray leftover images of Zoey and Cora together out of my head.

  I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I ended up taking a shower—a freezing one—at the crack of dawn.

  Becoming sexually active must’ve ruined me. Now that I knew what certain things felt like, I wanted them. A lot. It had been over a week since Cora and I had been together, which was actually the biggest dry spell for us.

  I was a mess; there was no other way to explain it. It seemed like no matter what I did, it was going to be the wrong decision. Sleeping with Cora last night would’ve been bad because I knew I would’ve had thoughts of Zoey. But not sleeping with her had felt wrong too, because I’d already been having thoughts of Zoey.

  I just needed to stop having thoughts about Zoey. Except the more I tried, the more thoughts of her that came.

  Physical exercise seemed to be the only thing to clear my head when something was bothering me, so I found myself at the university’s twenty-four-hour activities center. The weight room was dead at this time of day, which left me with free reign of the place.

  I spent a couple hours there.

  The burn in my muscles when I finished felt good. I kind of didn’t want to stop, so I jogged another mile around the indoor track and finally hit the showers before heading home. Ten was still asleep when I arrived, so I made him some breakfast.

  The smell of frying bacon and eggs finally roused him. When he stumbled bleary-eyed into the kitchen, he mumbled something that I took for a greeting and went straight to the refrigerator to grab his usual morning dose of Sunny Delight.

  We were both silent as we sat to eat. He was probably sporting a hangover from the after-game party he’d no doubt attended. And I was too jumbled with nerves to even look him in the eye. But every time I glanced over, he was quietly munching and just studying me, making me feel like he could see into my head and know every dirty dream I’d ever had.

  “Didn’t see you at the celebration last night,” he finally said, after draining the last of his juice.

  I shrugged and glanced away. Cora hadn’t even gone to my football game, so I don’t know where she’d been for the after party, and she was the only reason I attended any of them, so I hadn’t seen the need to go.

  “Your woman not in the party mood?” Ten pressed.

  I gritted the back of my teeth. “She didn’t go to the game.” I tried not to let it show how much that bothered me. Most of the time, our games took place on Saturday afternoons; she wouldn’t have classes or work—since she didn’t even have a job. But she always had a reason for not attending them.

  After listening to her belittle my position on the team, I knew football didn’t mean much to her, so I didn’t want to hold anything against her. But I had kind of hoped she’d want to attend at least one game, if for no other reason than to see me play.

  “How the fuck could she not go to the game?” Ten frowned at me. “She’s dating a starting player. A starting sophomore player. Doesn’t that kind of make her a shitty girlfriend for not—”

  “Stop,” I warned, sending him a death glare. “She couldn’t make it. Leave her alone.”

  “Her roommate made it.” Ten lifted a challenging eyebrow. “I saw Blondie sitting with the Gamble family before the game started.”

  I narrowed my eyes, desperately wishing he hadn’t brought her up. “Well, obviously she didn’t have anywhere else to be.”

  “Even Gamble’s woman was there, and she has more reason not to step foot on campus than—”

  I shoved abruptly to my feet, cutting into his tirade. I already knew he wasn’t a Cora fan; I didn’t want to listen to him bashing her a second longer. “You’re taking care of the dishes this morning, right?” I asked. “Good.” I walked out of the kitchen, leaving my stunned roommate gaping after me.

  I was already a confused bundle of nerves; I didn’t need him irritating the situation. It didn’t seem possible that someone could be upset with his girlfriend as well as worried about whatever secret she was keeping from
him, all the while feeling guilty for having dreams about another girl. But there I was, experiencing something I was certain no one had ever experienced before.

  When Cora called later in the day, I couldn’t even talk to her because I didn’t want her to hear all the guilt, upset, and worry in my voice. But then I grew even guiltier for avoiding her, so I called her back two minutes later.

  She sounded tired, which made my guilt explode. I asked if she wanted me to come over and take care of her until I had to go into work that evening, but she said she and Zoey were going to spend the evening together. Girl stuff, she claimed. So I stayed away.

  Monday progressed painfully. I spent extra time in the weight room that morning so I had to hurry through my shower. My hair was still wet when I rushed into art class. That was one miserable hour...and not because of my hair. When the scent of Zoey’s shampoo wafted my way as soon as I sat down, I hardened my jaw and tried to breathe through my clenched teeth and not my nose. Then she went and smiled at me and told me hello, and congratulated me on the team’s win. The entire time, I kept picturing that dream. The way her lips had pursed before she’d told me to lick her between the legs, the way her eyes had softened with need. I couldn’t get that freaking dream out of my head.

  What was worse, I had it again Monday night. Twice. Her and Cora both crawling all over me, kissing and licking things they shouldn’t, taking me to new heights of pleasure. I won’t even go into how sinfully, wickedly, deliciously awful both Tuesday and Wednesday nights were.

  By Thursday, even my co-workers noticed something was bothering me. Ten had actually been giving me my distance. But it only took Pick one glance when he’d been strolling out from the office before we opened to glance my way at the bar and slow to a stop.

  “You doing okay, Hamilton?”

  I nodded and mumbled something about being fine as I kept my attention on taking chairs off tables. Pick glanced toward Ten, who shook his head no, and I clenched my teeth, wishing my roommate would mind his own stupid business. Because of his headshake, Pick didn’t let the issue drop.

  Moving closer, he talked in a lower, more confidential tone. “What’s going on? You got bags under your eyes. You been getting enough sleep?”

  I shrugged, still not looking at him. “I’ve had a couple disturbing dreams,” I admitted reluctantly, forgoing to mention that I would then wake up and touch myself, each and every time, only feeling worse after each episode.

  “Nightmares?” Pick asked, his brow knitted with concern.

  He’d only been my boss for a few months. Before that, we were co-workers. But for as long as we’d worked together at Forbidden, he’d been the protector of the group, the paternal figure, though he couldn’t even be five years older than the rest of us.

  “Not quite nightmares,” I admitted. “Just...things I shouldn’t be dreaming about.”

  Pick understood immediately. His eyes sharpened as he lifted an eyebrow. “Or people you shouldn’t be dreaming about?”

  My face heated, and I wanted to fist my hand and hit something: a wall, the table, myself. I hated not being able to keep a straight face. Blushing had to be the freaking bane of my existence.

  With a chuckle, Pick slapped me companionably on the back. Then he called across the bar to where Asher was sweeping up something from underneath a table in the corner. “Hey, Hart. You ever dream about a woman you shouldn’t?”

  Asher glanced up, looking surprised to be singled out. But then he grinned and shrugged. “I dreamt about your woman last week. She went down on me while I was singing on stage, and man...she had a sweet mouth.”

  My jaw fell open. I couldn’t believe he’d so readily admitted such a thing...and to Pick’s face. But Pick just chuckled and grinned approvingly. “Hell, yes she does.”

  I glanced between him and Asher, wondering why he wasn’t more upset.

  “I can do one better than that,” Ten spoke up. “I had a dream once of Pick’s woman going down on Lowe’s woman.”

  Mason popped up from behind the bar to scowl at him, but Ten just lifted his eyebrows in challenge. “What? They may be cousins, but as close as those two are, you know they’ve at least kissed before.”

  Mason and Pick exchanged a knowing glance, to which Ten went crazy. “Holy shit, they have, haven’t they? Fucking awesome. Did you guys watch?”

  “We’re not saying anything,” Pick said, only to let out a huge grin.

  “Well, hell,” Noel spoke up from behind the bar. “Now I’m going to dream about those two ganging up on Aspen and going down on her.”

  As the guys laughed and started mixing and matching up which one of their women would star in their next wet dream, I shook my head. “So all of you have dreamed about...threesomes?”

  Everyone stopped talking to stare at me as if I was insane. “We’re guys,” Mason finally answered. “So...yeah. Pretty much. Why wouldn’t we?”

  I blushed, not knowing how to answer that. I’d never had one of those dreams until this week. I had no idea they were supposed to be normal?

  “Damn, it must’ve sucked growing up homeschooled by your widowed grandma,” Noel murmured, sympathy ruling his gaze as he studied me.

  I shook my head, because no, it hadn’t. I’d loved my grandmother desperately. Finally being able to live with her after my mother had died had been a saving grace. I didn’t even mind much that it left me socially clueless so much of the time. Gran had done the best she could for me, and I’d be eternally gratefully for that.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t picked up more shit from listening in on all that raunchy locker room gossip you must hear,” Pick mused.

  “I don’t spend much time in the locker room.” I hated changing in front of people because someone always asked about my scars, so I typically rushed to get in and out.

  “Well, anyhow,” Pick went on. “I wouldn’t sweat about any dream you have. I’ve had some crazy-ass dreams that don’t mean shit. Okay, bud?”

  I nodded, and strangely enough, I felt better. Listening to the guys openly admit to having thoughts about other women while over half of them were in committed, faithful, monogamous relationships let me know I wasn’t as awful or alone as I thought. I was just a typical, flawed human.

  Once again, I couldn’t sleep. Awake at two in the morning, I sat up in bed, turned on a night-light and began to write. I was quickly coming to realize the stories I wrote in the middle of the night were some of the craziest yet most colorful and eventful ideas I’d ever come up with.

  So, I made me some hot chocolate and went to town. But as hot chocolate was wont to do, it went straight through me, so I had to pee before I could finish the last page of my short story.

  My mind was elsewhere as I flushed, already planning out the final paragraphs. I didn’t even realize the water was overflowing until I was washing my hands and cold wet toilet water crept in over my toes.

  Yelping out a startled scream, I jumped back and gaped in horror as it kept flowing over the toilet seat.

  “Oh my God. No!” I leapt forward, not sure what to do, but the water didn’t stop flowing. Thinking there had to be a shut-off valve somewhere nearby, I peered behind the tank and tried to ignore the ick factor of more water covering my feet.

  I was no plumber. I had no idea what did what, but I knew I had to do something, so I turned hard on the first lever-looking thing I found.

  And the stupid thing came off in my hand.

  Water spurted out the hole I’d just created and sprayed me right in the face. I gasped and lifted my hands to protect myself.

  No way was I going to touch anything else after that. Soaking wet, I sprinted out of the bathroom and pounded on Cora’s door before shoving it open. “Cora! Cora?”

  The light from the hallway splayed over an empty, neatly made bed.

  Oh God. She couldn’t be gone now.

  Trying to calm myself, I blew out a breath, but I could hear the water still drenching the bathroom. Water dripped off my f
ace and coated my clothes as I raced barefoot from the apartment and down the hall to the elevator. I would’ve run the entire eight flights down, because I was in a running mood, but the elevator was faster...even though it felt like it took forever since I had to just stand there and wait for it to take me to the ground floor.

  Henry, the faithful doorman, was not in his usual spot. I stared wide-eyed and gripped my head, not sure what to do now. I was sure there had to be a super somewhere in the building who could help me, but Cora had never told me who or where to go for emergencies like these.

  So I had to ride the elevator back up to our apartment and find my cell phone in my room to call her. But her phone immediately went to voice mail.

  She’d told me she was going to spend the evening with Quinn before she’d left earlier, so I didn’t even think. I called him next.

  Surprisingly, he sounded awake when he answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  His voice sent a jolt through me, but I shook it off as quickly as possible. “Hi,” I rushed out. “I’m so sorry for waking you. It’s Zoey. I’m looking for Cora, but her phone’s turned off. Please tell me she’s still there.”

  “Still...here?” he sounded vaguely confused. “She’s not with me if that’s what you’re asking. I thought she said she was doing something with you tonight. Everything okay?”

  My roommate had lied. Again. What a surprise. But I had no time to dwell on that right now.

  “Um...sure.” I cringed. “No, not really. I broke...something in the bathroom. Water is spraying everywhere, and I don’t know how to turn it off or where the number for our building’s superintendent is. Then Henry wasn’t at the front door. And Cora’s...” Who knew where Cora was.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Even as my insides leapt with relief and joy, they shuddered with worry. Him, me, alone. Not such a good idea. “No, Quinn. You don’t have to—”

  But he’d already hung up.

  Well...