Lucky Number Four (20 page)

His breath is hot on my neck. His tongue runs
from my ear down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. A
hand cradles my face as his tongue moves slowly back up my neck,
and his lips meet mine. His tongue probes and gently forces my
mouth open and then—oh my sweet heaven—our tongues meet, and I
swear my blood starts to boil. His hand skims down my arm and then
moves inward, caressing my sensitive stomach, drawing lazy circles
as his lips dance with mine. His hand moves upward, and I feel my
stomach plunge as he stops just beneath my right breast. I hold my
breath, waiting for his touch, silently begging for the torture to
stop. I want him to run his hands all over me.

His naked body pushes against me and I feel
his hardness. Oh my, his hardness. I reach for the pulsating flesh
as his hand finds its target, and my senses go on overload. I moan
in his mouth and his kiss intensifies, filled with a passion I have
only dreamed of.

“What the hell are you doing in that bed? Are
you in pain?”

A voice pierces the haze, making me feel as
if I’ve been doused with freezing cold water. It was a dream, just
a dream. I’m all hot and bothered and drenched in sweat and filled
with frustration.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jeff asks. “I swear,
you wake me up from an awesome dream where I’m eating a piece of
the best cheesecake I’ve ever had, only to hear you moaning.
Menstrual cramps?”

“Something like that. Go back to sleep.”

I jump out of bed and close the bathroom
door, resting my head on the cool wood. The dream was so real. I
can still feel his hand on my breast and his tongue caressing mine.
I move from the door and turn on the shower. I feel like a horny
teenage boy.

“Dora? Dora?”

Jeff’s chipper voice snaps me out of my
daydream. Not really a daydream, more of a recap of my night
dream.

“It’s time to go to our institute of higher
learning, and you don’t want to be late for your art final.”

“Don’t remind me,” I moan.

I thought art would be a safe class to take.
I draw pretty well and I love the teacher, but he can be a little
out there at times. Last week we did pottery. Not ordinary pottery,
but abstract. Easy, right? No, it had to have depth. So I made a
deep pot. Not what the teacher wanted though, and I ended up with a
C. So my final, which is half my grade, needs to be outstanding. I
wish I knew what he had planned, but when asked, all he did was
smile. Darn professor.

A ringtone from my phone heralds a call from
my all-knowing mom. She must have heard me think that cuss word
last night, or should I say early this morning?

“Hi, Mom. I can’t talk long. I’m off to take
my art final.”

“Are you sick, Dora? I sensed last night you
were feverish. Darn Henry wouldn’t tell me why. I hate this
no-family clause.”

“No, Mom, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. You
have nothing to worry about. How’s Dad?” I ask, changing the
subject.

“Don’t change the subject. Something is
brewing and I know I’m right. Tell me if I’m interfering,
okay?”

“Mom, you’re interfering.”

“I only care about you and want what’s best
for you. Maybe I need a trip to the city,” she rambles. As usual,
she hasn’t heard me. “I’m so stressed right now. Your grandma is
reading that new adult book, something about graphic sex. I’ve
heard it’s not for the faint of heart. Of course, she’s read racy
stuff before, but you know she’ll talk about it at Sunday dinner,
even though I’ve told her it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

Yeah, that’s an understatement. Grandmother
would be all high and mighty and call her—well, I don’t know what
she’d call her—but it wouldn’t be nice.

“I’ll come, and set out a place for Jeff.
He’s staying with me so we can study for finals. We won’t be able
to stay long though.”

“Oh, Dora. Thanks, sweetie. I don’t know what
I would do without you. Henry says to tell Liam to go for it,
whatever that means, and you need to help Drew. Henry has never
been this vague before. Maybe it’s on purpose. Have you fallen for
them? Maybe that’s it.”

I really don’t think she’s talking to me, but
I’m used to that. “No, Mom, I haven’t fallen for anyone. Besides,
I’m not really into threesomes, but now that you brought it up, I
might rethink the whole idea.”

“What did you say? Your dad’s calling on the
other line and I don’t know how to put this new smartphone on hold.
I need a manual for dummies. Anyway, see you and Jeff on Sunday.
Love you.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God. The
last thing I need right now is my mom getting my lust signals.
Because that’s what it is. Just a case of a plain girl lusting
after a totally hot guy. I have to stop thinking about him or I’ll
need another shower and I don’t have time.

Yikes, Jeff has already left. I grab my bag
and keys and hightail it out the door.

I’m so late—thanks, Mom—my heart is pounding
in my chest as I run through the empty corridors. I pull open the
door to the art room and…

What the fuck?

Yes, I said it. Sitting on a stool at the
front of the classroom is Drew STARK NAKED. Yep, everything is
hanging out, or should I say
down
? He turns and sees me
standing in the doorway and grins.

“Hey, Dora. Overslept, did ya?” Drew’s voice
sounds so loud, and of course everyone turns to look at me.

“Dora, come on in and take a seat. I was just
telling the class that we have been blessed with a live male model
to draw for your final exam. You can imagine my shock when he
called me up and offered his services for free. Drew makes a great
deal of money modeling, and yet he’s gracing our school to further
the study of art. Let’s give Drew a hand, everyone, shall we?”

Mortified, and, yes, blushing from my toes to
the top of my head, I hurry to my seat, avoiding the looks from my
fellow classmates. I put up my sketchpad to block my view of a
grinning Drew and the questioning eyes in front of me.

“Sweet Mother of the Universe,” Karen, a New
Ager I consider a friend, whispers to me. “You really do know the
models, and you moved in with them. I’m right? Right?”

I shake my head and lean toward her. “Shush.
I’ll talk to you later,” I say, avoiding looking to the front.
Sweet unripe bananas and rotten tomatoes, what am I going to do? I
can’t possibly look at him, never mind draw him for two hours.

Karen smiles knowingly and picks up her
charcoal. “He’s staring at you. Are you sleeping with him? I’d do
him in an instant. How could you have kept this from me? I heard
the rumors that three famous hotties came looking for you at the
beginning of school and wanted your body, but I thought it wasn’t
real. You definitely have a lot of explaining to do.”

Maybe I can copy off of her without actually
looking at Drew at all. I hear whispering all around me, but I’m
trying to ignore it. I peek around my canvas and Drew waves at me,
making me duck back behind my shield. Fuck—yes, I said it
again—fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh, it feels so good to yell it in my mind.
How am I going to draw him with his one-eyed Willy watching me?

Did I just think that? I mean his penis, of
course, and it’s a nice big one from what I saw while peeking
around the corner of my blank canvas. He’s definitely a shower.

Karen has started, and her sketch is good,
like, really good. Of course she’s started with the penis and is
definitely doing it justice. She has a wide grin stretched across
her mouth, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she starts drooling
soon.

“Ms. Phillips, is there a problem?” my
professor asks over my shoulder, making my head swivel. I’m utterly
embarrassed I’ve been caught staring at Drew’s penis on Karen’s
canvas.

“Um no,” I mumble and pick up my charcoal
from the little shelf on the easel in front of me.

Damn Drew and his grinning penis. I peek
again and see Drew has a serious face on and is all business. Maybe
without his mischievous grin this might actually be doable.

Time flies, and I’m drawing like a madwoman
wanting this torture to end. It’s not as doable as I thought,
because Drew has a habit of turning his head and winking at me from
time to time.

“Hey, Dora, you better hurry. Not much time
left to draw that piece you’re still missing.” Karen giggles as she
points to the spot where Drew’s penis should be hanging. I quickly
fix the problem and will probably get a bad grade for drawing a
loincloth over that area. But as much as I’ve tried, I can’t do
it.

“Time’s up. Let’s give Drew a hand for coming
in and posing for us.” Everyone claps vigorously, even the guys,
which surprises me as I’m sure more than half are not as
well-endowed as him. “Leave your canvases on your easels. Everyone,
I hope you enjoy your holidays.”

I grab my messenger bag and quickly move
toward the exit, glad that the professor has Drew’s attention. The
last thing I need is to have Drew walk out with me through the
campus. I’m humiliated enough by all the stares and whispers I’m
already getting. Thank goodness I have only a few more days of
exams, and then maybe by January everyone will have forgotten about
this.

Yeah right, and hell will freeze over. I see
Jeff ahead and quickly run up and slide my arm around his.

“Hey, what’s up?” he says as I drag him
toward our next class.”

“Just keep moving and I’ll explain later.” He
moves faster to keep up with me, which is a first since my short
legs are usually trying to keep up with his long ones.

Have I told you math is not my best subject,
and Jeff has done all he can to help me? I only hope all his hard
work will pay off. Nobody looks happy as we file into Calculus, and
when we see the thick test packet sitting on our desks, we let out
a groan. Our professor is a sadist. Jeff squeezes my hand
reassuringly and moves to the other side of the room to take his
seat. I know you’re wondering why we don’t sit together. Mr. Cramer
feels that seat assignment is a necessity in college. He should
teach high school. We’re adults, aren’t we?