Stay With Me (12 page)

I’m not wearing any underwear under my pajama shorts.

His hands go to the top of my shorts, and his finger dips to my belly button. He presses a kiss there, then backs slightly away. He runs his knuckles up and down my thigh.

“Only kissing,” Caleb says, hoarsely, looking up at me. “Only kissing and nothing more.”

I’m not sure if he’s saying this to me or him, but I nod anyway because I know what kind of kiss he’s talking about now, and I’m yearning for
that
type of kiss.

He lowers the shorts down my legs, and then Caleb runs his hand down my leg, lifting it, raising it over his shoulder. I’m even more exposed down there now. And I know I’m wet, dripping even, from all the want and need that’s building in me. He runs a finger down the seam of my pussy, and my head falls back, until it rests against the wall.

Oh God. That feels so good. So, so, so good.

He traces the shape of me, dipping along my outer edges, and then spreading me to expose the pale pink flesh of me. I let out a soft cry when he touches me. So lightly, he circles my clit, as if he’s dancing around me, teasing me with just a glance of a touch.

I feel so ready, straining even, and I just need
more
. I moan out his name. His name is a spell, enthralling me, holding me to this almost release.

He rubs against me and my heel digs into his shoulder blade.

Oh God. Yes. Yes. Yes. There. Right there.

A pinch that has all my nerve-endings snapping tight, readying, readying, readying . . .

And then . . . and then his fingers leave.

I moan in frustration, looking down at him, and give him my hardest glare. He better not stop.

But no, he’s not. I realize this when a devil of a smile appears—but this smile doesn’t come so easy to him, as if he is also in this near agony state of pleasure.

Please,
I plea with my eyes,
please kiss me
.

And he does.

Right on my core.

I let out a low muttered moan, his mouth licking at me, tracing up my wetness. His teeth graze my clit, and he soothes the pain by taking it into his mouth, suckling it so deep that I’m gasping for breath, my hands in his hair, seeking purchase, searching for a safe place to fall.

But there’s no falling here. None. I’m not falling to release. He won’t let me.
I
won’t let me. My body is straining for something new, something I’ve never had before, and I don’t know what it is exactly, but I’m so, so eager to get there, to discover what it is. To discover it now, because, God, I can’t take this
want
anymore.

He thrusts his tongue deep into me, and I sob his name. He touches my clit with his mouth again, and his finger teases at my entrance.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He enters me, his finger a slow thrust that has me tightening around him. His mouth works on me, licking, sucking, kissing, and he adds another finger, twisting in me, and I’m not falling now . . . I’m soaring.

I’m soaring up, up, up, and it feels like I’m in the stars, flying in the air, all that is me is free. So, so free . . . and all his.

He lowers my leg back to the ground, and I’m so limp, my body so complete and respite that I’m not even sure how I’m still standing. I probably wouldn’t be if it weren’t for Caleb’s strong hold.

He kisses me, and I taste myself on his tongue, and then all I taste is him for long minutes before he pulls away.

Caleb presses his forehead against mine.

“Good night.” A kiss on my forehead.

“Good morning.” A kiss on my nose.

“Good day.” A kiss on my mouth.

“Hailey.” My name sounds like a kiss on his lips. “I think I could kiss you forever, but it’s late.”

“I know.”

“And I have an early class.”

“So do I.” And yet both of us don’t move. “Do you . . . do you want to come up?”

“I’d love nothing more.” Caleb cups my face. “But tonight was only kissing. I want to do this right with you.”

I smile at him, then kiss him again, because I really can’t help myself. He always says the right, true thing—except, of course, when he’s being a big idiot. But I can’t think of any big idiotic things right now, not when I’m so awash in pleasure.

“But,” he says, kissing me deeply, “there is tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that, and all our future tomorrows.”

He walks to the front door, kissing me once more before he leaves.

Tomorrow. The tomorrow after that. All the future tomorrows.

There is a lot to look forward to.

Chapter 14

I
HAVE MANAGED IN THE
month and a half that I’ve been on campus to avoid going into the theatre building. There has been no need as I’m not taking any drama or music classes, and so I’ve easily steered clear of it.

Today is no different. I tuck my head down and keep walking past the James O’Scott Theatre as I leave my afternoon Friday study session with Daphne. We went over my English assignment—another fifteen paged paper due the following week—and also talked about plans for this weekend. Since Columbus Day is today, we have the day off from classes and just had a three-day weekend.

The leaves have all changed their colors now, and more have fallen to the ground, my boots crunching over them no matter where I walk. It’s just so pretty and different from Hollywood. And it’s really nice to wake up to a smogless city and walk around without being followed by cameras. It’s peaceful . . . and I also love that the seasons change and that I’ll be living in a place that actually gets snow. Of course, I’ll probably be cursing the snow and ice when I have to scrape off my frozen windshield.

There are signs taped on trees for the upcoming Halloween dance that’s being held in the gym. Green College is having a whole day event—and it’s kind of awesome, because this year Halloween falls on a Saturday, so there’s no need to skip classes. Not that I would anyway, but it’s nice to not have to miss out on any activities.

But Green College is teaming up with UVM and nearby St. Michael’s College and Burlington High School to create a community festival for Halloween. Even the main shopping square in Burlington, Church Street, is getting involved. There will be all day activity stuff that families can take part in—from a Halloween parade on Church Street where kids can trick or treat along various shops to a costume parade for anyone who wants to participate.

Green College is offering a fair-like experience with games and activities. There will be bobbing for apples, ring tosses, a candy apple booth, and a Bouncy Bounce. And then later on that night, Green College will hold a dance for all students, and I’m sure afterward we’ll be hitting the bars in our costumes and having even more fun.

I’m still trying to decide what I want to dress up as, and Daphne has been doing the same.

But since Halloween is two weeks away, we both figure we have some time. And we’re planning on going shopping this weekend, and I’ll be spending the night in Daphne’s room as her floor is having an End of the World party.

“You’ll see what it is once you get here,” Daphne said the other day. “It’s too weird to explain.”

I didn’t tell Daphne that Caleb and I have hooked up . . . because . . . yeah, that would be completely weird to talk about with her. And she’d probably get grossed out, and then it might ruin our friendship if things between Caleb and me don’t end up working out.

“Hey.” Caleb walks next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder and bringing me close to his body. He hands me a cup. “Got you some hot apple cider.”

“Mmmm. Nice.” I take a sip and glance up at him. We’ve hung out since that night, but I had to study for a big exam tomorrow, so I didn’t see him on Sunday. “I can’t believe it’s Columbus Day already.”

“I know. You’re going to that Halloween thing, right?”

I nod my head.

“You want to go together?”

“Sure,” I say, smiling. “But we’re not going to be corny and dress up as something stupid and couple-y.”

“Like I’m the electrical prong and you’re the plug.”

I make a face.

“Or you’re the mustard and I’m the ketchup.”

“Ew.” I shove him playfully. “No.”

“Or you’re the cheese and I’m the mouse.”

“You’re definitely not a mouse.”

“But I do like . . .” He stops and kisses me. “To eat you.”

I blush furiously.

“How about . . .” I tap my chin, deciding to play along with him. “I’ll be the tortoise and you’ll be the hare. You do like to go
fast
after all.”

Caleb pulls me to him, laughing. “You’re so going to pay for that one later on.”

I hide my smile. That was exactly my goal.

D
APHNE’S WAITING FOR ME WHEN
I reach her dorm at Millay Hall. Her keys dangle from one hand, and in the other she’s furiously texting on her cell. Her eyes flick to me and then she shoves the cell into her bag.

“So,” she says, heading to the entrance, sweeping her long chestnut hair over her shoulder. “The world has ended.”

I follow her. “Huh?”

She pulls open the door—the dorms, she tells me, are unlocked during the day but locked from the outside after 9 p.m.

“Inside,” she continues, “the world has ended.”

I see what she means when we enter the ground floor.

On the floor there are cut out pieces of black construction paper in varying sizes and styles. Signs are taped on one of the walls.

DANGER!

WORLD ENDING!

ONLY STEP ON THE ROCKS!

DON’T FALL INTO THE HOT LAVA!

DON’T DIE!

“The floor is the hot lava, as you can see.”

“And how do we get to your room?”

Daphne’s room is on the third floor, and we bypassed the stairs in the entrance behind us. I had wondered about it at the time, but now I see Daphne wanted to bring me here.

“We’ll take the stairs there.” Daphne points to the middle of the hall. “Each floor has a different disaster.”

“When did this start?”

“This morning.” Daphne steps onto a piece of black construction paper and glances over her shoulder at me. “Stay on the rocks.”

“What happens if I don’t?”

“You die a horrible, fiery death. Your bones to be feasted on by unimaginable terrors. You’ll be tormented through all eternity.” Daphne shrugs. “You know, the usual.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“No one is ever drunk enough for this.”

I take a step on the “rocks” and follow Daphne down the hallway to where the middle staircase is.

Someone has barred the way. Two long strips of masking tape are strung from one railing of the staircase to the wall, crisscrossing the other, like a crime scene. Written in black marker on the tape are the words:

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

We stand there for a minute.

Daphne heaves a sigh. “Well. That’s new.”

“I guess we have to turn around,” I say.

“Yeah. There’s another staircase at the back of the building. I don’t even want to know what this place is going to be like later, when more people are drunk.”

“It’ll be something else,” I say.

We make our way to the end of the hall and to the staircase. Masking tape blocks off the stairs to the third and fourth floors, so we have to make our way to the second floor.

This disaster area has sheets spreading its way down the hallway, leaving only a few inches of space between the sheet and walls. To pass this area, we’ll have to press our backs against the walls and take small steps to make it. If we step a foot onto the sheets—which apparently is supposed to be the sky and the walls the broken buildings that have somewhat survived the ravages of war and destruction—then we’ll fall to our deaths.

“What does happen if someone does this?” My back is against the wall, and Daphne is across from me. “I mean, are you sequestered to your room or something?”

“I have no idea,” Daphne says. “I think we’re getting off easy, though. I heard some girls talking in the laundry room today. It’s going to get a lot harder tonight.”

“Because everyone will be drunk?”

“That, and because each floor is setting booby traps. Like the lava thing we just did? They’re going to throw water balloons at everyone.”

“Don’t you all have RAs?”

“Yeah, but they’ve all cleared it and pretty much everyone who’s doing this lives here. So it’s not like totally dangerous or destructive. Everyone agreed to use materials that wouldn’t ruin the walls or ceiling. And people won’t be driving or walking around campus alone. Plus, if it does end up getting too loud, then it will get shut down.”

We reach the middle landing and the area is clear, so we take the steps up to the third floor, where Daphne lives.

“What’s the fourth floor going to do?”

“Something with zombies.” Daphne shrugs. “One of my roommate’s friends lives there, and they were trying to make the floor look
Walking Dead
-ish.”

“And your floor?”

“You’ll see.”

Daphne’s floor has transformed itself with a few bean bags strewn throughout the hall and streamers hanging down from the ceilings, along with some spaceships and UFOs.

“An alien invasion,” I say.

“Yes.” Daphne nods her head. “We’ve been conquered. Those bean bags are alien pods. You touch one, the alien erupts, and you’re taken and probed.”

Since the path is one that winds around the bean bags, I can already see how easy it would be to be taken by the aliens. Especially when you’re tipsy and stumbling about.

But since neither one of us is even remotely drunk, Daphne and I make our way to her dorm room. A dry erase board is on her door with messages to Daphne’s roommate, Maura, and one from Maura to Daphne saying that she’s going to buy liquor for the party tonight.

Daphne unlocks the door and we enter her room. It’s small, cramped, and nothing like any dorm room ever seen in movies or on TV. There are two single beds, each against one wall and across from one another. Two desks are next to each bed, leaving a gap where their window looks out at the parking lot. A tiny fern plant is on the windowsill, and a stained glass decal is on the lower left corner, toward the roommate’s side. A mini-fridge and microwave are near the edge of Maura’s bed, almost as soon as you walk in. A TV and DVD player is on top of a stand in the center of the room, and the closet is across from Daphne’s bed.