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Authors: Kandi Steiner

Black Number Four (36 page)

BOOK: Black Number Four
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It’s so silly, this stupid game we’ve been playing, but I got completely caught up in it. Everything that seemed to be so important to me just a short three months ago now seems trivial. Kip sees me for who I really am. I’ve never been more comfortable in my life, whether I’m wearing a ball gown or nothing at all – he sees the beauty in me, the beauty I’m not even sure
I
see. I don’t know where we go from here, where the story will take us, who will still be in it and who will flee the pages, but I think I’m finally ready to find out.

By the time the song ends, everyone around me has their arms high in the air, the cheers roaring through me, but I’m standing completely still. When the feeling finally returns to my legs, I move toward Kip before I can double think it. He stands from the bench just as I reach him and pull him down by the collar of his shirt, pressing my lips to his.

If I thought the crowd was loud before, it’s deafening now. Cheers and whistles ring out and Kip smiles against my lips, picking me up and spinning me a little to liven up the show. When he pulls back, the smile remains. “You do realize we’re in front of people, right?”

I grin, shaking my head before pulling him back into me. “Who cares.”

We kiss for years, or maybe it’s just a few seconds, but I feel it all the way to my core. It’s out now, no more secrets. Well, maybe there are still secrets, but none that matter now. I’m with Kip. Kip is with me.

And the rest of the world can just deal with it.

“You’re so handsome,” I say, my words slurring a little as Kip unlocks the door to my room. He laughs, pulling my arm over his shoulder a little tighter and guiding us through the opening.

I may have drank just a little too much tonight.

After Kip played, everyone knew what was going on and, surprisingly, it didn’t seem like anyone cared. Clinton came up to chat with us, giving me shit about hiding everything from him. He seemed to like Kip more once he started talking about football and Kip was able to join in and actually knew what he was talking about. I had to rub it in his face that maybe jock and nerd actually
do
mix.

The girls were all complimenting Kip on his piano skills and Kip was still buying shots for everyone, so that helped our case. Even Erin was still hanging around us, though she did seem a little irritated, but not like what I expected. None of my other sisters seemed upset, either. If anything, I’d say they were like Jess – on team Kip and Skyler.

I think I like that team, too.

“You must say that to all the boys.” Kip drops me down onto the bed and I let my body fall back against the plush comforter as he lifts my feet, unstrapping my heels.

“No,” I draw out the word, shaking my head. “Just you, silly.”

Kip pulls me up long enough to unzip my dress and slide it up over my head. My body reacts instantly, need spreading from my mouth to my stomach and down between my thighs. But, just as quickly as he has the dress off, he’s replaced it with one of my long t-shirts. I try to pull it up and over my head, but Kip stops me, laughing.

“Keep your clothes on, Sky. I can’t be responsible for what I do if you take them off.”

“But I want you,” I whine, realizing only after the words slip out how ridiculous I sound. That’s how it works when you’re drunk, isn’t it? The words come out before your brain has the chance to tell you not to be stupid.

Kip smiles, lying down on the bed and pulling me up into his arms. “You have me,” he says quietly and I run the tip of my nose along his neck, settling in. Slowly, I trace my fingertips up and down his abdomen, making him shiver slightly each time I reach the lower end.

“What are your dreams, Kip?” I ask, my fingers still lightly tracing. “What do you want most in life?”

He lets out a long breath, his hand playing with my hair as he thinks. “If you asked me that a couple of months ago, I would have known exactly how to answer. But right now, I don’t know if I can give you an honest reply.”

I look up at him, my chin resting on his chest. “Try.”

He sighs, brushing the hair from my face. “Career-wise, I want to be a screenwriter. I want to move to California and go to UCLA. I want to graduate with honors and internships out the ass and I want to land my dream job writing for one of the big television stations, like FX or ABC or HBO.”

I smile. “And life-wise?”

His eyes are dark, the only room coming from the bathroom light he flicked on as we passed it on the way to the bed. For a moment he says nothing, like he’s afraid of the next words he’ll speak. But then his mouth opens, closes again, and finally, the words force their way out.

“I’m beginning to think as long as you’re in it, I don’t really care what happens anymore.”

My heart swells at his words and I feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest as he swallows, his eyes still searching mine. After a moment, he clears his throat.

“What about you? What are your dreams?”

I furrow my brows, unsure just as much as he was minutes before. “I feel like, with school, I bounce around trying to figure out what I want to do, but nothing ever really clicks.” I pause, figuring out what to say next. “Nothing except for poker. I just… I
get
poker. Poker gets
me
.” I lean up, resting on my elbow so I can look at Kip. He waits patiently for me to finish and I can’t put into words how much it means to me. “I think I might want to own my own casino company.”

Kip’s brows shoot up and he leans up on the pillows, pulling me closer. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I think so. Not like a real casino or anything, but like those party companies where you can hire casino people for your event. You know, fake money that people trade in for raffle tickets or donations to charity and stuff. I’ve seen them at a few sorority events and I really think I could do it. I think I could be amazing at it. And then I wouldn’t ever have to give up what I really love.” I pause, shaking my head a little. “It’s stupid, isn’t it?”

“What?” Kip laughs. “No, it’s not stupid. Why would you think that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, because it’s not traditional. It’s not a lawyer or a doctor or whatever else makes people say ‘
Oh, you’ve really got a great dream there
.’”

“Do you think me wanting to be a screenwriter is stupid?”

My eyes go wide. “No! Your dream is amazing! I wish I had your talent.”

“And I wish I had yours,” he says, swallowing hard. For some reason, it feels like there’s still something he’s not telling me – like there are words right on the tip of his tongue that just won’t quite fall out. “Not every dream has to follow some sort of formula that society thought up, Skyler. The reason not many people have the same dream as you is that none of them have the same talent and drive. You’re unique. You’re special. You’re not meant to fit in some sort of box.”

I lie back down on his chest, letting his fingers running through my hair soothe me until my eyes close.

“What about playing for a living?” He asks. “You could make a killing, Skyler.”

I shake my head. “That’s not what matters to me. I want to win this tournament in May for me and for my family. They would be set, I would have enough to pay for the rest of school and start my company, but I wouldn’t have the lifestyle that goes along with being a lifelong player. I don’t want the travel, the media, the pressure. I just want to play and have fun. And if I can make a living off of that? Well, that would be perfect.” I contemplate that word and shake my head again. “Almost perfect.”

“And what would make it
perfect
-perfect?” Kip asks, smiling.

I shrug, hesitant just like he was. “Maybe a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy with glasses,” I say, climbing up to straddle him. I pull his lips close to mine, and just before closing the distance, I whisper, “Maybe that.”

My lips find his in a frenzy, but he slows me, moving in a slow rhythm until I finally match it. At the touch of his lips, my entire body comes to life, the electricity from his touch running through me in steady currents.

I find his belt and pull at it, freeing one of the clasps. Kip grabs my hand, cursing under his breath. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, Skyler. You’ve been drinking. A lot.”

I shake my head, laughing as I kiss him again. “Drunk as a freshman with a fake ID or sober as the day I was born, I want you, Kip. Please.” I rock my hips against him and he groans, his grip on my wrists tightening as he fights his urge. “Give me what I want.”

His hands free my wrists and I undo his belt quickly before he bucks his hips up enough to slide his jeans down, kicking them off the rest of the way. I’m only wearing a scrap of a thong under the t-shirt he put me in and I can’t wait any longer. The ache in my stomach for him to fill me is consuming, driving every thought, every movement. As soon as he pulls free from his boxers, I slide my panties to the side and come down on top of him in one fluid motion. Kip’s eyes roll to the back of his head and we moan together, the pure ecstasy of him inside me controlling both of us.

I ride him slow and steady at first, my hands weaved into his hair and my mouth hard on his. Each time I come down against him, he bucks his hips, meeting me in the middle and causing a friction right where I need it. My moans grow louder and I bite my finger, not sure if any of the girls are home in the next room.

“I love the noises you make for me, Skyler,” Kip breathes, running his hands up my thighs to the small of my back. He helps me ride, pumping into me harder and faster until it’s too much and I feel myself start to come apart. I can’t hold it any longer, I’m too eager for the burning numbness to destroy me.

“Oh my God,” I breathe, moving my hips faster. “I’m coming.” My breath leaves my chest, expelling itself and leaving me to fight for air as the waves of my orgasm crash over me, wave after wave. Kip growls, biting my lip as I moan into his mouth and I feel him release inside me. We come together, each of us falling apart at the seams while being stitched together. Loud colors invade my mind and by the time we finish, I’m shaking uncontrollably, breathless. Hopeless. Completely caught up.

For a moment we just lay there, him still inside me and our foreheads pressed together as our breaths steady out. Slowly, I move off him and pull the covers up over both of us. I find my place on his chest again and my already heavy eyelids stop fighting to stay open. Just before I fall asleep, I feel words coming from my mouth. I’m not sure if I control them, but I don’t disagree with them, either.

“Don’t leave me, Kip. You can’t leave me now. You can’t hurt me now. You can’t. Please, tell me you won’t hurt me. Promise me.” The words fall out of my mouth quickly before they start to slowly fade, my mouth too tired to say anything else. The alcohol mixed with the exhaustion from today and the calming of my orgasm lull me closer to my dreams. I feel Kip swallow hard but he pulls me tighter, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. Just before I fade out, he whispers.

“I promise.”

When my eyes flutter open, I’m greeted with my Little’s piercing green eyes. She’s smiling and slowly shaking her head.

“You’ve been cuddling with me all night.”

I groan, my hand finding my forehead as I lean up on one elbow. “I have?”

She laughs, nodding. “I didn’t realize you liked to be big spoon.”

My head is pounding, so I try not to laugh but fail. Glancing to the left, I spot two small pills and one of the plastic cups from the bathroom full of water. There’s a note on a napkin just next to the cup with a large circle and a small line of script in the middle of it.

BOOK: Black Number Four
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