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Hustle: Chapter 22

EDGE OF A STORM

Nothing Kyle has to say should matter, especially since he just proved he’s manipulating the situation for his advantage. Where I fall into that, I’m not sure, and I have no desire to find out. I don’t want to hold his secrets. I want to leave it all behind. Forget it all.

I round the corner of the hall, the noisy scene spread out before me. My eyes immediately seek the man who can help me forget. Who offers a wild escape from the worry that’s been plaguing me, even though he’s somehow at the center of it.

And I find him, but pause. He’s where I left him, at the table with some others, TJ and Rose included. But now Kyle, Deena, and Layla are there, too.

His head lifts, looking beyond the group, and he spots me. His gaze calls to me, even across the room. I want to walk to him, to give into that dominant stare that claims me as his. But I don’t want the drama of that group, they’ve already destroyed the pleasant buzz I had going. And despite his reassuring attention all night, the constant little touches, I don’t trust him to not play into them. And out of all of them, he’s the one that could hurt me the most. So I turn to the bar instead of towards their table.

I step into an open spot and lean on the counter to get the bartender’s attention to no avail. Then Drew steps behind me, hand on my back as he signals, and she approaches immediately.

“Two more?” She asks, referring to the shots he’s been ordering for us.

“Yeah,” he nods to her and then questions me, his palm running light circles on my back, “anything else?”

“Nope.” I straighten up, turning towards him, and his hand on my back slides to my hip as I lean on the edge of the bar. “I’m ready to go though.”

“Okay, after the shots.” His eyes are hooded as he looks down on me. “Everything okay?”

I nod, daydreaming that it’s the truth as I look up at him.

He leans in, reaching past me to grab the shots the bartender serves, but his eyes never leave mine. Some sort of silent conversation between us that I don’t comprehend, but it ignites the liquor running through my veins. Burning and soothing.

He gives me the little glass, holding his own to his lips as he waits for me.

I tilt it back, letting it wash away the rest of my doubts, and then I grab his hand. Ready. “I just need to let Rose know I’m leaving.”

He navigates us back to the table, and my nerves snap back to life as they all seem to quiet at our approach.

“Hey,” I step to her side, giving a slight smile to the rest of the group, “we’re going to go. Are you okay to get home?”

“Don’t go.” She pulls me into her side with an arm around my waist. She speaks with her high and slurred party voice, “We’re all going to the fields after this. It’s a lot of fun.”

TJ shifts back in his seat, talking to Drew. “Come on, you missed it last week, too.”

“And Tatum’s not going to show.” Rose pumps my hand with encouragement, and then she looks between Deena and Layla. “Right?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Drew tugs me so my back bumps into his chest, his hand sliding to my hip to hold me in place.

“Yeah, it does.” Rose nods, her hazel eyes bright. “She’s nothing but drama.”

Layla sips her drink and nods. “I’m beginning to think so, too.” At Deena’s questioning look, she continues, “Don’t get me wrong, Tatum is one of my best friends—that’s why I can say this—but she is intense and can be exhausting to hang out with. She’s not showing tonight, though. She’s got her own plans.”

“She’s right.” Deena speaks over top of Layla, flashing me a smile. “You should hang out a little. It’s been forever since we hung out with you. It’ll be fun and you don’t have to worry about Tatum. Promise.”

Drew’s fingers flex on my side, and I can’t tell if it’s a warning or encouragement. It makes me jittery. I cover his hand with mine before I speak, “Not tonight. I’ve got class—”

“Come on.” Deena’s hand drops with a thump to the table. “We all have class tomorrow. I know you hate Tatum, but you don’t have to avoid us, too.”

Drew’s heat presses into my back, but I respond first and he cuts himself off.

“I don’t hate her. I’m—”

“She doesn’t hate anyone,” Rose speaks up with her hand in the air like she’s taking an oath. “Or at least she never speaks that shit out loud. We’ve been roommates for what? Six weeks now? And I’ve yet to hear her talk about anyone.” Her dark lips stretch into a large smile as she looks around the table. “It’s like impossible for her. It’s crazy.”

“Yeah right,” Kyle speaks up from the other side of the table. “I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true.” Rose nods to him. “Not even a bad word about you.”

“Now that’s restraint,” TJ adds.

Kyle directs his middle finger to them.

“Let’s go.” Drew’s voice vibrates through my back as he speaks just to me.

“Okay.” I turn with him.

“That’s so fake though,” Deena can be heard above the bar noise, even as we walk away. “Of course she hates people, why not say it out loud? It’s actually—”

Drew’s body vanishes; cool air filling the heated space he was, and I turn to see he’s back at the table.

“She’s a good person, that’s why. She doesn’t run around talking shit about other people. Maybe if you shut your fucking mouth more often, you could learn something from—”

“Stop.” I step in between him and Deena. He drops his gaze to me, angry energy running through him and tightening his body. I grip his arm. “Let’s leave.”

“Something has to be said or they’ll keep doing this shit.” The muscles at his jaw flex as he looks past me. “Quit running your mouth about her. About me. You think I don’t see the shit you’re trying to pull, bringing up Tatum to her? And you pull that crap right in front of me?” He sweeps his glare around the table, extending his warning to all present. “None of it is any of your fucking business.”

“Man—”

“No,” Drew cuts TJ off. “I don’t want to hear anything. I’m over it. Just keep your mouths closed. We’re leaving.”

No one talks as he grabs my hand and we exit the bar.

Cabs are easy to find on University Boulevard and Drew sweeps me into one before my heart even catches up with us.

He gives the driver his address and sits back, arm extended over the back of my seat, but not touching me. He’s staring straight ahead.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, watching the shadow of muscle in his jaw as it clenches and unclenches. Unsure if the pressure in my chest is relief, concern, or something else entirely.

He’s slow to turn to me, like he’s dragging a weight, but when he does, his body melts. All the tension, collapses as he releases a long stream of breath, and he rests back in his seat. His green eyes look black as we ride through the night, leaving the lights of the main road. And his ghost of a smile is dark. “I should be asking you that.” His other hand reaches for me, gliding to my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I lean into his palm because his touch feels good, and I want to reassure him that I’m all right, too. I love the soft smile that flickers on his face.

“No, it’s not.” Somehow he’s next to me, hand dropped from my face to my hip, and he’s tugging me closer. “None of it. I don’t want you to worry about what they say. I don’t want you to think you need to leave for them either. Not for any of them. Not even if Tatum was there.”

Just her name on his lips stings, and I pull away.

“That’s why you wanted to leave, wasn’t it?” He questions so softly, but it’s heavy with disappointment.

“I wanted to avoid more drama.” I sweep my gaze from my fingers to him. “I wanted to just have a fun night.”

“I know.” His fingers are light across my jaw, sliding down my neck, pausing like he’s taking my pulse. It’s still pounding, only growing quicker, lighter, as he keeps touching me. “That’s why I’m sorry. I don’t want that drama to touch you. You’re with me now, things are going to be different.”

“Then lets forget about it.” I rest my head against the seat, sinking into the swirl of alcohol pulsing in my veins, it highlights the path his fingers travel against my collar bone, making it all more intense, but less clear. A haze of sensation that makes me want to purr.

It doesn’t take long to get to his house, and I slide out of the cab while Drew pays the driver.

We walk to the porch of his house, and I bound ahead as a wind whips around us, electrifying and energizing.

I lift my arms, soaking it up. “I love this weather.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” His voice is just as thrilling as the wind.

Gripping the deck rail, I inhale the night, letting it fill my lungs and surround me. “Don’t you feel it? There’s going to be a storm. You can smell it, too.”

“It’s not supposed to hit till tomorrow night. But maybe they’re wrong.” His hand slides around my waist, turning me towards him.

“Hmm,” I hum, leaning my head back as the breeze lifts my hair. “I haven’t watched the reports. But I love this.” I was drunk. On drink. On the night. On him. And enjoying it all. The wild wind picks up, and I give into it, arching my back, letting him and the railing behind me hold me up.

“I never paid much attention.” His lips at my collar bone charges my skin with static. “But it might be my new favorite thing. I like you like this.”

My arms drape around his neck as he lifts me up by my waist, setting me on top the flat surface of the railing, his lips tasting my skin down to my breast and then back up. I tilt my head to the side, letting him lick up my neck and then our lips collide like magnets.

My legs open, inviting him closer, and he steps between them, pulling me against him with greedy fingers that press into the flesh at my back. I latch onto him, pulling myself up him so I can better dip my tongue into his mouth and feel his body against mine. Craving more, unable to bring myself close enough to satisfy, my skin screams to rub against his.

He rips away, and I almost cry out at the pain of not having his lips on mine. My chest strains as I gasp in air, trying to calm the chaos and need swirling under my skin, on the edge of a storm.

“God Damn.” He licks his lips, eyes brighter than the stars as he looks me over. His breathing rasps as he eases back to me, slow and torturous. His lips brush my chin as he murmurs his way to my ear, “How am I supposed to go slow and easy with you when you kiss me like that?”

He pulls back to look at me, but I can’t respond. I shake my head, locked in the heady desire charging the space between us.

The dark smile that spreads on his face is alluring and dominating. “And when you look at me like this,” his hands pull on my hips, spreading my legs as he rolls his hips into mine, “like you’d let me do anything I wanted with you.”

My heart skips, his words and body hitting me like lightning, lighting me on fire. I wrap myself around him till my lips hit his neck. “Maybe I would.”

The groan from his chest rolls through me with a wave of goose bumps and he grabs my lips with his. Teeth scrape mine with the force of it. And then he lifts me up, one arm braced under my butt to hold me as he turns us to the door of his house, opening it without breaking our kiss.

It’s not until he eases me back on the bed, stepping away so he can undo his jeans that I question what my body’s desiring.

I know he can deliver pleasure, he’s brought me there multiple times, but a giddy nervousness pulses through me with the idea of what we can do now. I’d taken that plunge once, had sex, and was left unsure. Standing at the edge of it again, it was almost more nerve wrecking now than the first time, more exciting, too.

I let his eyes hypnotize me, and his voice push out my fears.

“Undress, baby.” He pulls his shirt over his head in that way he’s perfected, that shows off his muscles.

I start with my cardigan, slipping it off my shoulders and tossing it the ground. Then I undo the buttons of my jeans and scoot myself up the bed as I kick them off.

He doesn’t wait for me to do anymore, I squeal as he snatches my ankle and pulls me to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees on the floor. He dips his head to my stomach, nudging my tank top up with his nose as his lips latch onto my side in a tickling nip, but his hands are soft as they slip past the thin fabric of my panties, delicate as they tease.

My hips lift, pressing into his touch as he finds my most sensitive spot, circling and rubbing his thumb over it. Then he undresses me, sliding my underwear down my legs, and I sit up so he can lift my tank top over my head. He’s still on the floor and I pull on his shoulders, encouraging him onto the bed as he unhooks my bra, his hands and teeth grazing and squeezing my breast.

“No, Brook.” He captures my wrists in his hand, pulling them to my side. “This is where I want to be, where I need to be, to taste you and get you ready for what I want to do to you.” His tongue slides around one nipple, slow and hot, making it rise before he sucks it into his mouth.

With my hands still pinned at my sides I arch my chest into his mouth with a soft moan.

“So sensitive,” he breathes against my skin, his nose grazing my flesh as his tongue slides under my breast. He lets go of my wrist, his hands gripping my inner thighs and spreading them how he likes. “So fucking perfect.” One finger plunges into me, and I gasp, stomach clenching at the suddenness, and he laughs with a deep rumble. “Are you ready?”

I open my eyes, the pleasure I feel only intensified by the satisfaction in his face. I’m pleasing him as I submit to his touch, a touch that fills me with desire. His fingers continue pumping, and I drop my head back with consent, a wave of pleasure rolling through me.

“You know I want you to say it, baby.” His lips shock the skin below my belly button.

“Please, I want you.” That was the full truth. I’d never been so certain of anything even as I’m hurling into oblivion.

Then I’m slammed to my back as he jerks my hips forward, pulling my legs around his shoulders. He lifts my hips off the bed as his hot mouth hits between my legs, his tongue splitting me open. Swirling, pulsing, carrying me on a high I can’t escape.

I can’t move besides gripping the sheets under me, only my head and shoulders on the mattress. He’s taken all leverage away, and I’m helpless in his arms. But he expertly brings me to the edge of sanity, my skin dissolving and nerves heightened as everything scatters with a thrust of his tongue. Time stops as waves crash over me, drowning me with intensity. Just when I think I’m about to explode, crying out with no air he’s up. Standing as he brings his hips between mine, still holding me in that position that gives him all the power.

When he slides into me, my body bucks and snaps with the shock. With an ability beyond me, I’m up in his arms. My arms wrap around his shoulders, nails digging into his neck as I press into him. His skin is slick and so is mine. We slip against each other as he moves me up and down in rhythmic bounces. The sting as I stretch around him becomes its own need. I move myself against him, wanting more. Wanting harder.

He showers my face in kisses, his breathy praise swirling around me, bleeding into unintelligible pants. “You feel so good… so tight… fuck… perfect… Brook… mine… perfect, baby.”

He touches me everywhere, returning to the spots that make my heart race most. Melting me to mold my body perfectly to his. Our bodies flow into each other, his nails dragging over my skin like fire, his pants quickening. The bed beneath me as he thrusts into me, again, and again, and again. The power in his firm and trembling muscles fills me, and I cling to him, my skin needing his slick heat. Feeling like I might disappear into space if he lets me go, he has me spinning so.

Then I shatter, and he holds my pieces, slowly returning them together as his body shakes and quivers under my touch. He collapses onto me, resting his head on my stomach, his large hands gripping my hips still and we both don’t move. We can’t move. The air is thick, a fog filled with the echoes of what we did. The sensations still rippling under my skin. The room still spinning as I lay exhausted, spent.

I close my eyes in a warm haze. I sense his movements, but his touches never fully disappear as he shifts around the bed. I know he’s disposing of the condom he used. And then he’s back at my side, pulling me onto his chest. His heartbeat is strong but fast under my ear. We lay for a while, our fingers outlining each other in soft trails as the air cools around us. His heart slows, and his breathing steadies. The hum of silence is soothing.

“You’re supposed to be going to sleep,” he says after an immeasurable amount of time. None of it feels real.

I smile, tiptoeing my fingers across his chest. “I don’t want to. I’m waiting for you to fall asleep first.”

His hand captures mine in his, threading them together. I can hear his own smile in his soft voice, “Why?”

“I haven’t seen you sleep yet.” I lift my eyes to his, slightly embarrassed at what I’m admitting. But he’s stripped me tonight in more ways than one. “I want to see you asleep.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Why?” I roll to my stomach, arms on his chest so I can look at him and read his reaction.

There’s nothing bad in his bright eyes, and his hand slides through my hair like he can’t stop touching me either. “I don’t sleep very much, but I like laying here with you.”

My skin tingles as it comes back to life under his gaze. “What? How do you have energy to practice? To play?”

“I’ll crash eventually, but it takes days sometimes.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m use to it.”

“Andrew—”

“Don’t.” His hands tighten in my hair. “Drew, remember.” He leans down and pecks my forehead. “I want you to call me Drew.”

“Okay, Drew.” I settle back to his chest, wrapping my arms around him. “Well if you can’t sleep tonight. I won’t sleep tonight.”

“You don’t have to do that.” His hands slide down my back making me shiver.

“I want to. I want to lay here with you and just talk.”

His hands become firmer with their caress. “Talk. About what?”

“Anything.” My fingers keep drinking in his smooth muscles like it’s necessary to breathe. “Everything.” I slide my lips to his chest, enjoying the way his stomach clenches. “Nothing.”

He lets out a sigh and wraps me up tighter. “You’re amazing.”

I laugh, shaking into him. “I could say the same thing about you.”

“No, really.” That light touch slides down my spine. “I can’t—I don’t even know how to say it. But you are everything I never knew I wanted. And you’re here, in my arms. I don’t know how to believe it. But I don’t want to let you go. You once said I get under your skin, what do you think now?”

“You’re still there. In every one of my thoughts.”

“Good.” He grips my arms and pulls me up him, till his lips are against mine. Lazy and mesmerizing as he rolls on top of me, bracing his arms at my side so his weight isn’t on me. “Good, Brook. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”


“What are you eating?” TJ wrinkles his nose at me from where he sits on Rose’s bed.

“Peanut butter and banana sandwich.” I take a bite and go back to my phone, trying to program all my numbers from the phone book in my paper planner and ignoring him as best as I can until Rose gets out of the bathroom. I guess they’re back to hanging out.

“What are you doing?” He’s antsy as he continues to make small talk.

“I have to set up my phone.”

“Is it new?” At my nod he continues, “Shouldn’t the numbers transfer. Why are you reprogramming it?”

“When my phone went missing, I cleared the memory with a remote app I had on it.”

“Clever.” He cocks his head with a teasing grin. “Had some things you didn’t want seen?”

“Nope. Just a friend of the family set it up for me.” Officer Bradford reminded me of that feature when I went to help him paint over the graffiti on Sunday.

“Is that the new iPhone? Can I see?” He scoots to the edge of the bed, his long legs almost reaching me where I sat.

“Sure.” I hand it over.

He swipes at the screen going through different features. “I want to see how much better the camera is than mine. I might upgrade.” He holds up the phone, looking around the room with it, then his face drops. “Someone’s calling.”

I take the vibrating phone he hands to me, unsure who the number is, but I answer it anyways.

“Hello.”

“I thought you didn’t have a phone?” It’s Kyle. I stand to leave the room as TJ’s eyes follow me.

“Well, we’re not friends so why would I tell you otherwise.”

“Still mad about last night?” He laughs a fake laugh. “Blame Drew. He came at me after I told him we were talking about going to see the band. I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

“Then why are you calling?” I walk down the hall of the dorm, passing by others to nowhere in particular.

“It’s 4:00. You were supposed to be here at 3:30.”

“I’m not coming.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. I just said I didn’t mean it last night.”

“Tell me what you want to say,” I demand, failing at keeping his words from bothering me, tempting me. He pulls at my curiosity, his warnings speaking to every concern I have about Drew.

“Are you coming? I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Why?” I’m in the stairwell, almost to the first floor.

“Because I kind of like you, and you deserve the truth.” His voice drops with the weight of his sigh, “And I want someone to talk to.”

I’m on the path to his apartments. There’s no point in pretending to resist. “I’ll be there soon.”


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