Very Wicked Beginnings (7 page)

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Authors: Ilsa Madden-Mills

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She crossed her arms, but I saw a glint of something in her eye, as if I’d intrigued her. “Did you like what you saw?”

“I got tackled by a lineman called Tank while I stood there watching you. He hit me so hard, I had to go to the doctor and get checked out.”

Her mouth parted. “Because you were so enamored with seeing me dance?” she said.

“Yep.”

She grinned. “Maybe you still have that concussion.”

“My head is clear as a bell, Dovey.” I winked at her, relaxing for the first time since I’d sat down. She was funny, and I liked how she was kinda distrustful of me. Because it meant she was smart too. And sexy. And her eyes were the most beautiful color of blue. And her skin was silky and pale, unlike my own darker complexion.

Her full lips curved up in a little smile, and right then, I wanted my hands on her. I ran my eyes over her grey tunic, imagining her tits and how small they’d be, yet they’d fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. I bet her nipples were red and if I sucked on them—

She sighed. “Okay, I’m curious. Tell me about this dream.”

I cleared my throat, picking through the memories. “It started out with you in this blue dress, cut down to here,” I murmured, grazing my hands down to my stomach. Yeah, I loved low-cut.

“Blue isn’t my color. I’m more of a black girl. Sometimes grey.”

I shrugged. In most my dreams she was naked. “Anyway, this dress had lace on it and … I don’t know … stuff. And it matched your eyes, a deep blue like a stormy sea.”

“You’re very poetic,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said, my mouth twitching.

She chuckled, and fucking elation went through me.

“I made you laugh. I like it,” I said.

“Okay, blue dress, very revealing. Is there more?” she asked, waving my hand.

“You had on these amazing heels. I don’t remember the color … maybe an animal print … but I do remember they made you tall, your face almost level with mine.” I rubbed my jaw. “I liked those shoes.”

“Like these?” she stuck out her leg, showing me her plain flats.

My eyes ate up her legs, getting all kinds of turned on. I bit back a groan, picturing them wrapped around my waist. At this rate, I’d come in my pants.

“No, but I like those too,” I murmured. “Your legs are long, Dovey. It’s hot.”

She straightened like she was leaving. “I don’t think I like where your dream is headed.”

Wait, don’t …

“No, it wasn’t like that. It was just you standing on these stone steps, maybe in front of a museum or a library. You were waiting for someone, and when I showed up you ran straight into my arms. Like we’d known each other forever. Like we were a couple.” I glanced down at the table and then back at her. “And then I kissed you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Tongue?”

“Most definitely,” I murmured.

“Long? Short?”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Hot and deep. Languorous.”

“Languorous? One of your SAT words?”

I grinned. “It means leisurely and unhurried. It fits.”

She nibbled on her nails, her eyes on my lips. I licked mine, and her face went pink.

“Is that it? No nudity?” she said.

She totally sounded disappointed.

I put my elbows on the table, settling in. “Nope. Isn’t it enough to be the most romantic kiss known to mankind? Incredible doesn’t even touch it. The way your mouth fit to mine …” I broke from her eyes, blushing again.

When I got the nerve to look at her again, her attention was on my tat. Ah, did she like ink on guys? I crossed my arm, flexing my bicep a little so she’d have a better view of the twisting vine as it crossed my arms.

I imagined her mouth tracing those roses.

As if she read my mind, she turned pink when she looked up and met my gaze. I grinned.

Then the bell rang. Dammit. I didn’t want this to be over.

She let out a sigh and stood. “This was fun, but I have class.”

I rose and grabbed her backpack before she could. “I’ll walk you.”

She shrugged like
whatever
and we walked out of the cafeteria together and down the hall.

“This is me,” she said, stopping at a classroom a few minutes later. I peeked in. Geometry. I suddenly wished I was in here with her.

I shook my head. That was ridiculous.

I handed her the backpack, our hands brushing, sending little shocks through my body.

And right there, I went for it. I hadn’t officially asked a girl out on a real date in months, but with her, I was making the exception.

“I bought two tickets to see
Les Miserables
in a few weeks. Primo seats. Wanna go?” I asked.

“Guys like you aren’t part of my plan,” she said.

“If that’s a challenge, then I accept.”

“No challenge, just the truth.” She moved to walk away, but I pulled her back with my next words. Because I was feeling all kinds of insecure. “Okay, tell me straight. Are you just completely disinterested in me? You say one thing, but your body is saying something else.”

“My body?” She looked annoyed, but I kept on.

“Yeah, I’m getting this vibe from you. Makes me want to ditch school and drag you out to the barn at the back of campus where we can be alone. Maybe it’s all me, I don’t know, but I think you feel it too.”

“You really put yourself all out there, don’t you?” she said, her eyes big.

“Maybe. If this is my only shot, I’m going for it.” I paused. “Let me in, Dovey.”

“Why me?”

I didn’t know
why
her.

But I sensed this was my only chance to get her attention, so I did something crazy.

I leaned in to her and sang out in a low voice, “Why do birds sing? Why do phones ring? Why does my heart fly? For all I know, you’ll make me cry. Why do fools fall in love? Why were you named after a dove?” I stopped and grinned, impressed with my spur of the moment performance.

Her mouth gaped. “That was the most atrocious thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It was pretty cheesy, wasn’t it?”

“Pure crap,” she said, but then smiled.

I laughed, and I mean,
I laughed
. And the sound was so real and easy and good and she was just fucking perfect.

“Don’t tell anyone I sing silly songs,” I said teasingly. “Football players are supposed to be tough and mean.”

She gave me a thoughtful look. “Everyone says you’re pretty good on the field. That no quarterback is safe.”

I didn’t believe my own hype, actually. “Whatever.”

“I hear you’re the best defensive end BA has ever seen and a four-star recruit by ESPN.”

I scratched an eyebrow. “Maybe.” I leaned in closer. “Maybe you can come and watch me practice? I could use my own personal cheerleader in the stands.”

“I thought the season was over anyway.”

I shrugged. “I’ve got a recruiter coming to see me soon. Wanna be ready.”

“Ah, well, I’m pretty busy.” She paused, a weird look on her face. “But I’d love to see you in uniform.”

My eyes widened.
Bingo!
“That can be arranged. Maybe you could wear your little ballet skirt?”

Visions of me slipping my hand up under her skirt flashed through my head. Again. Maybe she’d unlace my football pants, take my cock out and—fuck—I had to stop this line of thinking. Because, I think I really liked this girl, and something in me wanted to do right by her.

I wanted to woo her.

And that was the craziest thought I’d ever had.

I grinned at her red face. “Ah, I shouldn’t have said that. You’re thinking dirty thoughts.”

“Am not,” she said, but she didn’t sound sure.

“Uh-huh.” My lids lowered.

“How do you know?”

I leaned in. “I can read a girl. And based on the red face and dilated eyes, you like me.”

Her breathing escalated, making me scoot in a tiny bit closer. I inhaled her wildflower scent, my heart beating like a drum.

“Get to know me, Dovey. Let’s hang out. I promise I won’t bite unless you want me to.”

She let out a long sigh, like she was getting ready for a sermon. She said, “I appreciate your balls in coming up to me. I even applaud your whole ‘I dreamed about you’ line, because it was smooth. Just the right amount of humor with a touch of sexy. It’s obvious you’re a master at picking up girls. And the kissing part? That was excellent. Very subtle, and just enough to get my mind to thinking about us … you know … kissing.” Her words faltered. “But at the end of the day, it won’t work. We aren’t compatible. We come from two different places. You’re rich; I’m not. You like to party; I don’t. You like high heels; I don’t wear them. Good grief, your friends call you Hollywood. Then there’s me. I work my ass off to get everything I have. So yeah, not feasible.”

I straightened up. “I’ll meet you after dance. I want to see you again before I go home.”

She sputtered. “No. I just gave you a list of reasons why we can’t go out.”

“Yeah, I may have missed some of it. I was watching your mouth move,” I murmured. “Got distracted by your lips.”

“Is this a joke?” she asked.

“I don’t play pranks.” I waved at the space between us. “We have a connection. I knew it the moment I sat down with you. You want to resist me, that’s fine. I like it. It’s like foreplay.”

I slid off my leather varsity jacket and wrapped it over her shoulders. “Meet me outside your building so you can give me my jacket back. That’s all. No more songs.”

I tweaked her nose. “And my dream was real.”

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, making me chuckle. I gave her one last lingering look and turned and sauntered away. Totally pretending that I wasn’t a bundle of nerves.

 

 

 

“Gypsies? Oh, he was good. Very good.”

–Dovey

 

 

HOLY SHIZZLE. CUBA Hudson asked me out. What was the world coming to?

He slowly disappeared down the hall, headed to his own class. I watched until the other students swallowed him up and he was gone.

Why me?

“Bad juju,” I murmured to no one is particular, stroking the supple texture of his coat. I made sure no one was looking and buried my face in the collar, inhaling his scent, sandalwood and musk. I wanted to wrap my whole body in it and roll around on the ground. I wanted to wave it around like a matador in front of all the snooty girls in my class. I wanted to take it home and sleep with it, maybe cuddle up to it like a teddy bear. Then I burst out laughing.
Craazzzy
.

Because a guy like him would never want a girl like me.

At the end of classes, I hurried to the studio, changed, and lost myself in dance for the next three hours. I exercised and tried to forget about the sizzling way he’d looked at me. I tried to forget about how drop-dead gorgeous he was with those powerful arms and broad shoulders. I sure didn’t think about his soft dark hair with red highlights from the sun or his intense yellow eyes. Or his hot as hell tattoo that I wanted to lick from beginning to end. Or the way he strolled around BA with his confident swagger, like what was between his legs was big and…

Stop!

Instead, I focused on his bad points and came up with two: his cockiness, which was off the charts insane, and then his reputation as a ladies’ man. The gossip was he’d never had a serious girlfriend. He was a serial dater who tended to drop a girl when a better one came along. And even though these girls were often broken-hearted, they still considered him a friend. That takes skill and cunning, proving he was no dumb jock. A freaking genius was more like it, if you considered how he’d played me, how he’d seemed to know exactly what to say to reel me in.

He wasn’t called the Heartbreaker of BA for nothing.

At five, I jerked a sweatshirt over my leotard and tights, not bothering to put my pants back on. There wasn’t time. I stuck my feet in a pair of wooly boots and took off. He was probably out there right now, his eyes leveled at the door, waiting for me to exit. So, I avoided the front entrance and slipped out the side door and ran all the way to the parking lot, lugging my books, my dance bag, and his jacket. Several students gawked at me darting across the quad in my dance tights, but I didn’t care.

His silver Porsche gleamed in the sunlight—of course everyone knew his car—its sleek lines screaming money and power. Just like Cuba. I stood there, pacing around, debating and thinking and berating myself for not immediately leaving. But it was hard because he’d sucked me in with his sweet talk and goofy song.

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