FLAME (Spark Series) Page 18

  Mr. Brox had just taken a drink of his beer and simultaneously spits it out the second he hears Drew.

  I immediately grab a towel and begin wiping it up.

  “I’m so sorry. You just caught me totally off guard,” Mr. Brox apologizes profusely.

  Drew looks between us with a confused look. His heads jerks back and forth, and it’s like a light bulb goes on. He knows.

  “Oh my god…” He looks at me with a stricken look.

  I exhale loudly. “Yeah,” I answer his silent question.

  “Well, this just got uncomfortable,” Mr. Brox says, grabbing for his beer and standing up. “It was nice seeing you again, Carissa.” He nods and turns his attention to Drew. “I’ll let you guys play, I’m going to head out.”

  I’m surprised that Drew isn’t grilling into me, asking me a hundred questions about how I could’ve possibly slept with his professor. He’s aware of my past, and I love that he has never made me feel bad about it.

  “I had no idea—”

  “I know. It’s fine. I never expected to see him again. He used to live in my hometown,” I explain.

  “Well, he’s a really awesome teacher. I can see why you’d…” He pauses and swallows deeply. “…find interest in him.”

  I breathe out again in relief. “I can tell you…if you want.”

  He thinks for a moment before responding. “No…it’s not really my business. I mean, if you want to, I’ll always listen. But don’t feel that you have to. I’m not one of those crazy jealous boyfriends who goes around kicking every guy’s arse who has ever touched you.”

  Julia steps in and interrupts with a laugh. “That’s good. Otherwise you’d be getting in a lot of fights.”

  I turn and scowl at her. “Go. Away.”

  She looks between Drew and I before stepping back. “Oops.”

  I fold my arms on top of the bar and let my head collapse on top. This night…could it get any worse?

  “Doll, it’s okay. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Don’t feel bad,” he soothes, rubbing a hand over my hair.

  I stand back up, smooth my apron with both hands and grab the towel again. “Okay, back to work then.”

  20

  “I kinda like having you here,” I tease as I watch him clean.

  “Feet up,” he orders as he brings the vacuum underneath my legs. I’m sitting on the sofa, reading a Cosmo magazine. “Anything informative in there?” he quips, nodding to the magazine.

  “As a matter of fact…there are quite a lot of interesting things in here. Lots of…ideas.” I smirk, looking up into his baby blues.

  He laughs a deep, hearty laugh. “I can show you a lot more interesting things than that magazine ever could .”

  “Really?” I plant my feet back down. “I call a challenge, then.”

  He snaps the vacuum back up, turning it off. “Challenge accepted.”

  Drew’s down to one more week before he leaves. He only has finals left before graduation, so I took the week off work. I want to spend as much time with him as possible, and when we aren’t rolling around naked in the sheets, I help him study for his exams.

  “It’s going to involve some planning, so I need a few days.”

  “Planning? Hm.” I pretend to ponder over it. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Trust me. You will.”

  I breathe slowly, needing to get this off my chest. “Can I talk to you about Mr. Brox? I won’t if it’ll bother you, but I feel like I owe you an explanation of some sort.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. But if you want, I’ll gladly listen.” He sits down next to me, and I turn so we’re face to face.

  “Okay, well, he was my 12th grade history teacher. When I was in school, I was focused. I did my best to leave my family life at home because school was really like a second home. Being there meant I didn’t have to be at home. So, Mr. Brox was like the hottest teacher in school. He was really cool and down to Earth, really relatable in class. I could feel the sexual tension between us, but I was a naïve eighteen year old who was still a virgin. I started doing bad when my parents were constantly fighting, making it impossible to study. He noticed. And so one day he asked me to stay after class to discuss my poor test grade and well one thing led to another…”

  “He took advantage of you?” His voice is sharp and filled with concern as he reaches out for me.

  “No, not at all. I mean, I didn’t think so…”

  “How could he not? You were only 18, and he was like what, ten years older and your teacher?”

  “Yeah…but we kind of had a fling for the rest of the semester.”

  “Okay…” He nods. “So then what?”

  “Nothing, really. I graduated, left home, and haven’t seen him since. Well, except at the bar. That’s why it was such a shock.”

  He taps his foot as he continues thinking. I’m not sure why I felt the need to tell Drew this particular story, considering I haven’t told him much about any other guy.

  “Mr. Brox was my first,” I explain, breaking his thoughts. “He’s really the first guy who I was ever attracted to, and who made me feel good about myself. Perhaps too good…” I look down, ashamed.

  He cups my face, aligning our eyes once again. “It’s okay.”

  “Why do you keep saying that? Why is everything I’ve done okay with you? Doesn’t any of this affect you? Don’t you care?” I end up yelling the last question at him, unwillingly. Anger at myself takes over. I’m ashamed and mad at myself, so why isn’t he?

  “Because you were young. You are young. You’re going to make a lot of mistakes, Carissa. And I’m sorry to get all—what do you say—Dr. Phil on you, but your past warrants your behavior. You were a neglected, verbally abused child. You sought out the first person who showed you love. You didn’t know any better.”

  This is the first time it’s ever been laid out for me like this. Is that what I was? A neglected, unloved child? Is it really a good enough reason to be the way I am?

  “So, if I’m so damaged, what did you ever see in me? Was I a stereotypical case study for you?” I ask sincerely.

  “I didn’t know you well enough at first to make that conclusion. Fucking hell, I’m still getting to know you after all these months. You’re like a damn onion…I have to peel back your layers one by one.”

  “I’m really messed up, aren’t I?” I lay back on the sofa, closing my eyes. Drew is the only person, besides Velaney, who I’ve let get this close to me.

  “Well, you’re less messed up than before I met you.” He grins, trying to make me laugh.

  And I do. “Have I told you how happy I am that I met you?”

  He shrugs casually. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

  We laugh as he lunges toward me, holding me in his arms. “I’m going to miss that laugh.” He brushes some of my hair back, twirling it around my ear. “And your smile. I don’t know how I’m going to wake up every morning without your awful morning breath.”

  “Just when I thought you were being sentimental and romantic…”

  “I do what I can, Doll. If I feed you cheesy lines all the time, you’re going to get a big head about yourself.” He laughs, playfully nibbling my neck. “And we can’t have that, can we?”

  “Oh, how I’m going to miss your antics,” I pout. “And that ass. That sweet, tight ass.”

  “This arse?” He stands up and points to it. He teasingly shakes it in my face and rubs all over me.

  “Oh my god! I love you!” I blurt out, my eyes widen suddenly. “Oh, shit.”

  He freezes, looking at me. I still hadn’t said it back to him, although I’ve wanted to, but I’ve held off. I guess I thought maybe if I didn’t say it, him leaving would be easier on me, but then it just came out.

  “I mean.” I clear my throat. “I love your ass.” I try to redeem myself, but it’s useless. I can tell by his stupid grin that he knows I meant it.

  “Doll.” He brings his face to mine as he k
neels in front of me on the sofa. “I love you. You know I do. And I have this gut feeling that you do, too. So, whether you’re ready to say it or not say it, it’s fine. Because I already know.”

  I can’t look away from him no matter how hard I want to or how embarrassed I feel. I smile and let his hands grab mine, soothing me.

  “I do,” I say quietly. “I do love you.” I smile, almost in tears at how happy I am. “I love you so much that I thought if I kept it in, I wouldn’t be so brokenhearted when you leave,” I say honestly.

  He rubs his thumb under one of my eyes, wiping the tear that escaped. “Come visit me,” he blurts out. “This doesn’t have to be goodbye. There’s no reason why you can’t fly out with me.”

  I groan. “There’s like a million reasons.”

  “Name one,” he challenges.

  “Well, for starters, it’s just going to prolong the heartbreak. If I see you in London, and then come back home, what am I left with? Maybe I’ll see you soon? Maybe we can make a long distance relationship work? Why not just cut the cord right away and heal?”

  I hate the way it comes out, but it’s been eating at me for weeks. This is exactly why I didn’t bring it up and was glad he hadn’t…before now.

  “And how do you know it’s not going to work out? You have a crystal ball hidden somewhere I don’t know about?”

  I pout at his words. “Carissa, look at me,” he demands. “We have no guarantees in life. We don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. All I know is that I want you to be my future. I want to know I’m going to see you again. And not just via Skype or text message pictures. I want to physically see and feel you, hold you in my arms and kiss you. I don’t want to say goodbye.”

  I am crying by the time he finishes. It’s the sweetest, most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever heard, because I so want that. I want a future with him. I want to see him again after he leaves. Hell, I don’t want him to leave period, and if it weren’t for his mother and younger siblings not seeing him in four years, I’d beg his sweet ass to stay longer. But I can’t be selfish.

  I nod, silently telling him I want all that, too. “Okay. Let’s do this. We can make it work.”

  He swarms me in a tight hug, making me cry and giggle at the same time.

  “I can’t believe we’re going to do this,” I whisper into his chest.

  “We are and we can. I can’t say goodbye to you, Doll. Not after everything. Not after meeting you and being with you. I just can’t. I’ve tried to stay strong because I knew it’s what you needed, but I’m laying it all out there for you. I love you and you love me. We deserve a chance at this.”

  “Okay,” is all I say because his mouth soon finds mine and we’re kissing on the couch, like teenagers who just entered puberty. It’s hot and erotic, but soon turns sensual and sweet.

  * * *

  Tonight is the night of Drew’s specially planned challenge. He’s taking this awfully serious, but I’m looking forward to it. It’s our last official night together. Tomorrow is his graduation night, where he’ll be saying goodbye to all his frat brothers, and then Sunday afternoon is when he flies out.

  I make sure I shave and wax everything. I don’t know what kind of kinkiness he has up his sleeve, but I’m preparing myself for anything. I want our last night here to be special and unforgettable.

  Carissa: What time are you coming home?

  He’s been at school all day, wrapping up finals and saying goodbye to his professors.

  Drew: Be home at 5. Then I need to pick up some supplies. Be home shortly after that.

  Carissa: Supplies, huh? Please don’t tell me I’ll be hanging from the ceiling in some weird net?

  Drew: I promise nothing. ;)

  Carissa: Great. I’ll get started on my stretches now.

  Drew: See you soon. Love you.

  Carissa: Love you, too.

  It feels so weird texting that. Not weird because it’s not true, but weird because I’ve never done it before. Weird because it’s true.

  I make sure the apartment is nice and clean as I await his arrival. His luggage and boxes are all stored in Laney’s old room. All that’s left out is a couple of outfits and his manly bathroom necessities. It’s kind of depressing to see it all now, knowing it’s all going to be gone in a couple days.

  I decide to set the mood. I light candles and keep the lights dim. I’m not sure what he has in mind, but a girl can want a little romance.

  I hear him enter and walk to the door just in time to help him in. He has a couple bags with him, one of which is Chinese takeout.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I am…for you,” I tease. “But I’ll settle for Chinese.”

  I ask about his day and how his exams went. He flashes a bright smile as he tells me he passed them all. Aced, actually. Go figure. The man has looks and a fucking brain. And I’m not following his ass to London, why?

  “I wish I was that smart so I could go to college,” I say making conversation as we eat. “I did good in high school because focusing on homework was what kept me sane when I was home with my parents. But now, I doubt I could focus long enough to remember a thing.”

  He shrugs, as if it’s not a big deal. “College isn’t for everyone. Some take a year off before going, some take more. It’s whatever feels right for you.”

  I drop my fork and look at him. “Do you always have to make me feel content with my decisions? Why can’t you yell at me and say ‘Yes, get your ass to college, Carissa. It’s what’s best. Do something with your life!’” I mock in a manly voice.

  “Well,” he chokes out as soon as I finish. “One: I’m not your father, so it’s not my place to tell you how to live or run your life. Second: College and education are only successful if it’s what you really want. It can’t be forced. Either you want to learn or you don’t,” he says sincerely. “I lost a lot of mates after freshman year. They either dropped out or flunked out. They were there because their parents made them and you could tell it wasn’t really what they wanted.”

  “But I think I might like college. I think if I tried and got back into my study groove, I could do it,” I say like a chant.

  He smiles and grabs my hand, squeezing lightly. “Yes, you can do it. I have no doubt. You’re very smart.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it, actually. I’m not sure what I’d study, though.”

  “Oh, there are so many options. Some don’t even make up their minds ‘til junior year, so you’d have time to figure it out while you take all your required courses.”

  I nod, agreeing with him. “It’s something I’m definitely going to think about.”

  We continue talking through dinner. He tells me a little about London and where he grew up. I’m excited that I’ll be able to meet his mother and siblings. I’m really looking forward to visiting the place he’s called home.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks as we clean up the table together. “I haven’t done this before.”

  “I’m ready. I trust you.”

  We move to the bedroom shortly after. We take the candles with us, giving the bedroom a dimly lit look. He doesn’t tell me what he’s doing yet, just to wait for him on the bed, naked and spread out.

  This time, I’m actually excited. A part of me is sad knowing it’s our last night to be alone, but knowing I’ll be seeing him in a month or so keeps me happy for now.

  He walks back in shirtless, only wearing his low cut jeans. Damn, those jeans. They’re probably my favorite pair, and I have a feeling I know why he’s keeping them on for now.

  “I love those jeans,” I say, eyeing him curiously.

  I see the knowing-grin on his face. “I know you do.”

  He crawls on the bed over me, kissing his way up. I only now realize he’s put on music from his iPhone. It helps me focus, keeping all irrational thoughts out of my head.

  “I need to restrain you, but not the entire time.” He lifts up and grabs a sash from his bag.
He makes sure it isn’t tied too tight, but tight enough that I can’t wiggle out of it.

  “Do you remember your safe word?”

  “I don’t need a safe word around you,” I argue, knowing I’m not going to use it anyway.

  “Carissa, we always have a safe word. No matter what. I need to know that you remember it,” he demands in a deep, raspy voice.

  “Okay, yes. I remember it. Flame,” I spit out.

  “Good girl. Remember…you need to let me stay in control. Or you’re going to get hurt.”

  My eyes bulge out. Hurt? What the hell is he going to do to me?

  “Don’t be nervous, Doll.” He kisses me lightly on the lips.

  I’m seriously regretting challenging him.

  Or am I?

  He’s set up everything he needs on the other bedside table, so I can’t see what he’s grabbing, but the next thing I know, his mouth is aiming for my breasts. My head falls back, and my eyes flutter shut as I anticipate his lips on me.

  The sensation is cold. Ice cold.

  My first thought is to try and push him off, get the cold wetness off me, but I can’t. He brings his arms over mine, holding them in place.

  I finally realize he has an ice cube in his mouth. He continues rubbing it over each breast thoroughly, letting the water drip down as it melts against my heated skin.

  I focus on the music and the scent of the candles. It’s cold and my first instinct is to wipe it off, but the longer he does it, the more I enjoy it.

  I keep my eyes closed, wanting to savor the moment and enjoy it as much as possible. I feel him grabbing more things, but instead of being nervous or freaking out, I relax. I give in because I want him to have my body, to have me, and to have this experience with him.

  I feel his hand press against my stomach, rubbing up and down between my breasts all the way down to my pussy. His hands are ice cold as he inserts two fingers inside me. My body tenses up in shock, but the deeper he gets, the better it feels.

  “T-that’s…amazing…” I stammer. The cold wetness entering in and out of me as my body warms is erotic and amazing.