Ritual (Palm South University #5) - Kandi Steiner Page 0,1
you can’t tell me you don’t want more, too.”
Heat snakes up my neck from where his fingers brush the sensitive skin, and my eyes flutter before I shove him back with two hands.
“I can get hot sex from anyone I want,” I remind him.
“I know that.”
“Then you also know that you’re wasting your time.”
“Jess,” he says, seemingly exhausted now. “Come on. I’m sorry. I have now literally groveled at your feet.” He swallows. “I need this.”
I narrow my eyes, annoyance mixing with the ridiculous attraction I have for this kid and making me want to slap myself. When I first agreed to this insane proposition at our formal last semester, it was because I was in a dire state. I was still heartbroken over Jarrett, and — if I were being completely honest — I was fascinated by the thought of being in power over this young buck. I would be his teacher, his Dom, his sexual sensei.
Above all, he would be a distraction from Jarrett.
And after our first romp in the sack to gauge just what kind of lessons would be needed, I discovered that bulge I’d seen in his swim trunks at Spring Break was just the tip — and not of the iceberg.
But now, I was busy with recruitment. And when it was over, I’d be busy with my last semester of college. Plus, this little fucker had played me. It was all his idea, for me to help him with his game, teach him how to flirt and date and fuck like a pro — and then he’d bailed. After one round, he flaked.
Still, I can’t deny the way my body is heated at the sight of his tattoos peeking out from under his tight t-shirt — tattoos that I know spread across his chest and abdomen and down the length of his muscular back. It should be illegal for a kid this young to be this ripped, but even if it was, I have a feeling Kade would break the law.
I appraise him, and before the words are out of my mouth, I wonder if I’m conceding because I want to, because I feel bad for him, or because I’m annoyed and need him off my porch so I can get back to recruiting the best damn rush class our sorority has ever seen.
“Fine,” I grit, but before Kade can thrust his fist all the way into the air, I wrap my hand around it and hold it firmly. “But you will follow through with your part of the deal this time.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“The car,” I remind him. “I want your keys. Now.”
“I don’t have them on me.”
“Then I guess we’re done here.” I turn to head back inside, but Kade rounds me quickly, holding up his hands.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he says, fishing his keys from his pocket. He holds them out to me with a cringe. “Please, don’t wreck it.”
I smile wickedly, snatching the keys from his grasp before I press up on my toes. “Oh, sweetheart. The only thing I plan on wrecking is you.”
I thread my hands into his hair, tugging with enough force to make him suck in a breath through his teeth before my mouth covers his. I kiss him like I hate him, and I know I’ll fuck him the same way later.
“Don’t touch your dick until the next time I see you,” I whisper against his mouth before I bite his bottom lip. “Don’t masturbate, don’t edge, don’t even hold it any longer than you have to to piss. Understand me?”
Kade swallows, and I don’t miss the twitch of his already-growing erection in his basketball shorts. “There she is,” he whispers on a grin.
I grin back, leaning in like I’m going to kiss him again, but then I shove him away and maneuver around him, pushing through the front door of the Kappa Kappa Beta house and shutting it again before he can say a word.
You want to play, Kade Brewer?
Fine.
Let’s play.
FAMILY.
That one word can mean so many things.
It can mean a house on a hill with two parents who adore you, and an older sibling who cares for you, and grandparents and aunts and uncles who gather near for holidays. It can mean someone to lean on — always — no matter what you’re going through. It can mean safety, and comfort, and support.
Family can also mean a mother addicted to drugs and gambling, and an older brother who follows in her footsteps. It can mean