Avery
I stand before the full-length mirror in my dorm, Madison and Noah grinning like idiots at my reflection. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m going to get arrested wearing this in public.”
Madison rolls her eyes. “First, it’s not public; we’ll be in the Delta Sig house. And second, it’s a pimps and hoes party. You won’t get in if you’re not dressed the part.”
Of course Jase had left out that vital little piece of information when he challenged me to attend. Madison and Noah were game for going and had filled me in on the party’s infamous theme. They helped with my outfit: a black corset top that I am spilling out of – keeping me on constant nipple patrol – and a tiny pair of black boy shorts that show off generous portions of butt cheeks. Awesome. My main problem, though, is that the girls are on full display. Good Lord.
“That’s a lot of boobage,” I say, attempting to tuck them further into the corset.
Madison slaps my hands. “Don’t you dare. You’re one of the few girls who can actually pull this outfit off.”
“Tell that to my jiggly ass.” I make a point of looking behind me, like it’s somehow offended me.
“Asses are supposed to jingle. Shush.” To demonstrate, she grabs a fistful of my behind and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Damn girl, I want to skin you and wear you.”
A giggle escapes despite my nerves. “That’s a really disturbing visual.”
Madison and Noah, ever creative, are doing a role-reversal thing. Madison is wearing a leather jacket, black pants, pimp cap with a feather and several heavy gold chains. Noah, her ho, dons only a pair of bedazzled briefs and a glittery bare chest. It’s actually hilarious, despite the fact that I’m having a panic attack.
I tug the little shorts lower on my hips. I’m willing to show an inch of stomach if it means my butt is contained.
Noah laces up his red running shoes that happen to look ridiculously adorable with his sparkly briefs. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy we’re doing this. But why are we going to the Delta Sig party tonight?” he asks.
I hadn’t exactly told them about the whole Jase thing, but now might be time to come clean. “Jase invited me. We’ve been hanging out a little. Plus, I’m trying this new fun, carefree side like you guys have always wanted.”
“Avery 2.0. Nice.” Noah nods.
Madison’s head whips in my direction. “What do you mean you’ve been hanging out with Jase-the- manwhore-Owens?” Of course that’s the piece of information she zones in on. She adds a few more gold chains to her outfit. “Girls don’t just hang out with him. If said hanging out involves getting in a good mattress workout, then yeah…” She waves her hand in my general direction. “But this…not so much.”
“God. Madison, those romance novels have corrupted your brain. Guys and girls can just hang out.”
Her eyebrows dart toward the ceiling. “So he hasn’t tried anything?”
I shake my head. “Nope.” Is that so strange?
“Nothing? Not even like accidently brushing your boob with his arm?”
“No Madison. And I don’t want a guy whose sole mission is to get in my panties. That’s not a turn on.”
She looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Then what is a turn on for you?”
Intelligent conversation, healthy debates…those are the things sure to kick start my libido, if my time with Jase is any indication. “A guy trying to get into my brain,” I return.
She laughs. “So the question is…who’s occupying space in that brain of yours?”
Good question indeed. I remain quiet, unwilling to acknowledge, even to myself, that my friendship with Jase might be a bit unconventional. That I might want a tiny bit more. Of all the guys to be interested in…Dumb, Avery, I silently curse myself.
“Noah, seriously…help me out here?” Madison pleads.
He shakes his head. “Sorry, babe. It’s true. You’re in uncharted territory here. Jase isn’t exactly known for keeping his dick in his pants this long.”
They’re ridiculous. I’ve hung out with Jase a handful of times – one of them in a classroom. Do they really think he just whips it out whenever, wherever? And why does the thought of him handling himself make my stomach do a little flip? Sheesh. I need to pull myself together if I’m supposed to face Jase in this…outfit. Who am I kidding? Outfit is too generous a term for this. A few scraps of fabric covering the important bits do not constitute an outfit. Yet, I dutifully slip into the heels Madison has supplied and teeter out the door after my friends.
Lord help me. I’m going to fall on my ass. And then my ass will fall out of my pants. Disaster city.
When we reach the party, the line to get inside wraps around the side of the house, and I see that my outfit isn’t so outlandish after all. It’s like each girl took it upon herself to reveal her inner slut tonight. It’s disheartening, but since I have no room to talk, I huff my exposed ass up the front walkway and wait at the door to be let in. Unlike the last time, there’s a bouncer manning the door. I recognize him as Jase’s friend Trey, but considering he’s only looking at my chest, I doubt he recognizes me. He steps aside to let me and Madison inside, but stops Noah at the threshold. “Whoa bud. Sorry. You’re not getting in.”
Noah’s outfit is certainly untraditional, but Trey isn’t budging, not even as Madison launches in to a tirade about sexism and equal rights. Good Lord.
“Hey, I don’t make the rules; I just enforce them.” Trey smiles at Madison. “Hot chicks only.”
I remember Jase punching his number into my phone at the coffee shop and fish it from the tiny handbag Madison secured to my wrist. “Guys, let me call Jase. He’ll get us in.” The fact that I have his phone number earns me another suspicious glare from Madison.
I step to the far end of the porch, distancing myself from the dull-roar coming from inside. It rings several times and just as I’m about to hang up, Jase answers.
“Whistle? Is that you?”
I ignore the idiotic nickname. “Yeah, it’s Avery. We’re here, but we can’t get in.”
“Shit. I’m in the back removing a couple of over-drunk assholes. Don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”
Seconds later, Jase appears at the door just long enough to exchange a few terse words with Trey. Trey barks something back in response, and Jase’s eyes flash to Noah. Ever the drama queen, Noah cocks a hand on his hip, daring them to comment on his outfit, or lack thereof.
“Whatever, just let them in,” Jase says, then turns to me. “Find me later,” he calls before disappearing back through the sea of bodies.
* * *
It’s been fifty-four minutes since I last saw Jase. I hate that I know that. I hate how aware I’ve become of his presence in a matter of a few short days. I nurse a cup of beer, mostly to keep Madison and Noah off my back, and stand with them in the crowded living room. My ass has been grabbed at least
half a dozen times and beer spilled down the front of my corset twice. I want to leave. But first I want to see Jase again. Traitorous body.
The music’s too loud for real conversation, so I sway next to Madison, trying to ignore the way these heels pinch my feet. Who needs all ten toes anyway?
I feel Madison’s sudden tug on my hand. “Jase’s looking at you like he wants to taste your sweet honey.”
I nearly spit out my drink and break into a coughing fit, sputtering and gasping for air. “God, Madison.”
But when my eyes find his, holy shit, it’s like all the air’s been sucked from the room. Jase looks incredibly sexy in his black tailored suit and he’s looking at me. Just me. In a crowded room full of people – more than half of which are beautiful sorority girls, wearing next to nothing, clamoring for his attention.
Jase’s hot gaze slips from mine, down my chest, caressing my hips, my bare thighs, taking in my sky- high black heels before slowly gliding up to meet my eyes once again. My heart jumps inside my chest, breaking into an all-out sprint, as I realize he makes no apology about checking me out.
I’m suddenly thankful for Madison’s intervention and making me wear this outfit, and offer up a silent prayer of gratitude for Victoria’s Secret and the corset hoisting the girls up for display. I’ve never felt so wanted in my entire life. So beautiful and desirable.
Noah leans closer. “Damn, he looks like he’s going to eat you alive. Go talk to him.” He gives me a gentle shove in Jase’s direction and I stumble on shaky legs across the room.
Silently, I curse my friends as I make my way through the crowd. I thought they were anti-Jase, but now they’re plotting to bring us together. And though I’ve wanted to see him since I first got here, now I suddenly need a minute. It was sweet of him to make sure we got into the party okay, and I realize I
should thank him. I think I like his sweet side. But when I finally stop in front of him, sweet Jase is nowhere to be found. His gaze is deep and penetrating, and I can’t help but think he looks angry about something. Really angry.
“Jase?” I question, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Come with me.” He interlaces our fingers and tugs me toward the stairs. We fight our way through the crowd with Jase leading the way. He keeps my hand tightly locked in his until we reach the door to the stairwell. He produces a set of keys, unlocks it, then guides me up, keeping his hand at the small of my back as I ascend the stairs in front of him.
What the heck is wrong with him? I came to his stupid party, even dressed the part. Why does he look like someone murdered his puppy? He doesn’t say a word, but his firm hand curls around my hip as he guides me toward the attic.
When we reach his bedroom, he firmly closes the door behind us, before slowly turning to face me. His deep blue eyes radiate intensity, and his expression is nothing like the relaxed, friendly look I’m used to. My blood pumps wildly in my chest, my pulse keeping pace with the beat of the music I can hear faintly from downstairs.
He strips his jacket from his shoulders, and tosses it on a chair beside the door before yanking the knot of his black tie to loosen it, then works on his shirtsleeves. His once crisp white shirt is now undone at the neck and rolled to his elbows. I stand there, feeling over-exposed and confused.
He stalks toward me, caging me in against the wall, his hands resting near my head. I can see the veins in his forearms straining against the skin, and his hands are curled into fists.
“Jase?”
“I was afraid of this.” His voice is low, rough.
“W-what?” I stumble over the simple word with him so close. I can feel his warm breath on my lips, his body heat, and the raw sexiness oozing off him.
“Avery, look at you.” His eyes lower, sending me into a full-body blush.
“What?” It’s apparently the only word in my vocabulary.
He meets my eyes and his expression softens, the anger I sensed earlier giving way to something else entirely. “You’re stunning. So lovely.” His hand cups my jaw and his thumb softly brushes against my skin. “You look amazing in jeans and a T-shirt. In this, you look downright sinful.”
“Jase…” I whimper.
“You’re going to kill me with that outfit, doll.”
I look down at myself and frown. “I’m sorry…” I tug at the shorts again, as if sheer will make them longer.
“Fuck, babe. Don’t be sorry.” Jase’s eyes search mine, asking for what, I don’t know.
But he can have it. Anything he wants.
God, I hate myself.
His hand leaves my jaw only to trail down my throat with gentle pressure. The simple contact steals my breath and desire races through my system. Jase is making me feel things I swore I wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. Can’t.
“Where have you been hiding these beauties?” His fingertip glides along the tops of my breasts, brushing along the edge of the lace.
Apparently Jase has discovered my boobs. “Boobs are icky,” I blurt. Kill me now.
His mouth twitches at my comment. “I disagree. There’s nothing icky about you, babe.” His voice is thick and I’m wondering where the hell cool, confident Jase has gone because the guy in front of me is all nerves and intensity.
His hand slides down my spine, pulling me closer. My body responds as if saying, yes I’m yours. My chin turns up, my tongue dampens my lips, and my pelvis tilts toward his all in a heartbeat’s time. Jase’s head drops so our lips are aligned, but he doesn’t go any farther. His breathing is shallow, too fast, much like mine.