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Her pager goes off then. “Damn it, looks like I’m needed back at the hospital. Call me, okay? I miss you,” she croons, wrapping her arms around me before kissing my father and rushing out of the restaurant.
My father and I follow suit as well, since our lunch is finished. We wrap ourselves up in our jackets, the Colorado chill rampant in late October. We talk on our way to his car, since he picked me up from class to meet with my mother for lunch.
Once we’re settled in the car, he asks, “What’s this I hear about you going on a date with Adam Wilson?”
“How did you hear that?” My face scrunches at the knowledge that my father seems to find everything out.
“I told you, I know everything.” He taps his head and chuckles. “But seriously, the boys on the team talk in the locker rooms. I heard the tail end of it when I entered the room because they stopped when they saw Elio and me. Hell, he seemed more worked up than I was that they were talking about you. Gave those two extra hell during practice. He’s a good friend, looking out for you like I would.”
“Well, what did you hear?” I ask, ignoring his comment about Elio, yet secretly loving how protective he is. I’ll have to tell him to play it cool, no matter what people are saying, because my father is bound to get suspicious eventually.
“All we heard was that you went on a date with the tight end and that nothing happened. One of my boys started to say how he wasn’t surprised, but that’s when we came around the corner.”
“That’s a good summary. We went out, had good food, and talked. We’re friends, that’s all,” I huff, hating that my dating life was a topic amongst students. I guess that’s what I get for going out with an athlete, on top of being infamous on campus for being a goody-two-shoes.
“Nothing wrong with that, but a word of advice? Forget boys, Jasmine. They’re nothing but trouble at this age, so focus on school.”
I want to laugh because he’s right. That’s why I’m letting his coworker slash friend spend hours between my thighs because he’s not their age. He’s older and clearly experienced with the way his tongue expertly works me every day.
He drops me off at home minutes later, and I spend the entire elevator ride up thinking about Elio. I know he’s seeing his mom for lunch and won’t be back for a while since her house is two hours away from here.
I hate how much I miss him, wishing he were here when I push the door open, his stupid cartoons on the TV since it’s Saturday. To avoid thinking about that, I thrust myself into work, spending hours recording and editing myself making banana pudding.
Once that’s done and the kitchen’s cleaned, I head to my room. It’s messy, with clothes strewn about, textbooks on the dresser, and shoes in different spots on the floor. It makes me laugh, knowing how Elio would lose his mind if I did that in his room.
I wonder if he’d put me over his lap again. The thought is a thrilling one, making me bite down on my lip. God, I wish he’d let me pleasure him already. All week he’s given me countless orgasms, kissed me senseless, all while he told me no when I offered to get him off.
I understand why he’s doing it. He doesn’t want me to feel like he’s rushing me, but I’m ready. I want the power of knowing I can make him lose control, of bringing him to the edge and toying with him the way he does to me.
I want to see him come undone and know it was because of me, my mouth, my hands, my touch. And I think I know a way to get him to snap, let me please him the way I’m finally eager to explore how to.
Chapter 26
Elio
My leg bounces as the elevator takes me up to my apartment, where I know Jasmine is studying.
All day long I wished to be at home with her, my cartoons on while she baked and edited her videos. Don’t get me wrong, visiting with my mom was great. We had lunch at her house, where she made us homemade pizza, we caught up, reminisced, and overall had a good time.
But I was ready for dessert.
I enter the apartment and give the girls some love before I go straight to her room, knowing that’s where she prefers to study despite spending her nights in my bed.
I peek inside her open door, but she’s not at her desk or on her bed. “Jasmine?” I call out, heading down the hallway to my room.
That’s when I hear the bubbling of the hot tub jets.
The en suite bathroom door in my room is open, soft music filtering in from it. I walk into it and see Jasmine in the hot tub, her eyes closed, with a content look on her face. I study her for a second, basking in how fucking pretty she is. She must be wearing a new bathing suit because this one seems to be a tube top, with no straps visible.
“Are you going to say hi or just stare?” She giggles, cracking one eye open.
“Hi.” I smile.
“Hi.” She smiles back, her mocha eyes lifting with the motion.
“I missed you,” I admit, wanting her to always know how I feel about her with no confusion.
“You did?”
