A Powers Play Page 5
He peered down at my chest where my nipples were standing at full attention under my t-shirt. “From the looks of it, I think you like me talking to you like that.” Then he leaned in closer. “What’s the matter? Never been talked dirty to before, Priss?” When he pulled back, I saw that the half grin was now going strong and his luminous brown eyes were dancing with humor at his having riled me.
Holy hell.
As I kept glowering at him, having no response to that, I noticed a girl next to us gawking at us, and embarrassed, I smiled shyly at her, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, trying to act normal. When she turned away, I whisper-hissed at him, “Are you kidding me right now? Just who do you think you are?”
He bent again to get close to my ear. “I’m the guy who’ll have you coming hard before the semester’s over,” he answered evenly, his eyes shimmering with cockiness as they burned into mine when he stood straight again.
Mesmerized, I gazed back at him, lost in him, wanting what he was selling, God, how did he do that, until it hit me that I should be offended by his boldness and I suddenly frowned. “What is your deal?” I screeched making several students look at me and felt my face burning even hotter than it already was at his inappropriate comments. I turned to get away from him mumbling, “Oh, my God,” but he grabbed me by the arm pulling me in close.
“You don’t have to call me God. Gable works, but I’m sure I’ll be making you scream both soon,” he whispered close to my ear.
I pushed against his chest (of course he didn’t budge at all) and jerked my arm from his grasp with a scowl then moved as far away from him as I could, going to the back of the line to wait until he left. Standing there, I closed my eyes trying to get a hold of myself but could still see his seductive gaze searing into mine as he smirked while saying those things to me, as if he was so confident that they’d happen regardless of what I had to say about it.
And the really bad thing about it? As I stood there, a complete emotional mess from what’d just happened, I found I actually wanted those things to happen, which served to embarrass me even more not to mention just totally baffle me. I mean, I’d only slept with one guy, Hayden, my first and only boyfriend, and that’d been after we’d dated for almost a year so it wasn’t like I got around much, so what was wrong with me that I was all in for having sex with someone I barely knew? Someone who’d been an ass to me from day one. Someone who obviously had way more experience than I had.
As I stood behind everyone, I swallowed thickly, my cheeks still on fire, wondering who the hell I was, and when I moved my eyes to the front I saw Gable write his person’s number down in his notebook, smile at a girl who was gazing up at him like he was a damned rock star then he left without even a glance back at me.
When I finally got to the front, I wrote my person’s number down quickly and got the heck out of there because a few people were still watching me curiously. As I walked outside the building, I cautiously surveyed the area making sure Gable hadn’t hung around wanting to torment me some more but saw that he was off to my right talking to his friend, Mr. Tactful, and they were near the parking lot which was a good twenty yards away. I also saw that Gable was smoking. Well, total turnoff right there. Good. At least he had something about him that repulsed me (other than his cocky attitude, that is), and when I saw the coast was clear, I let out the breath I was holding, relief flooding over me along with a bit of disappointment at his unhealthy habit, and headed away in the opposite direction from him, going to my next class.
~*~*~*~
______________________________________
From: 9565876
Subject: Hi!
Date: August 28, 3:32 p.m.
To: 9543254
Hi 9543254!
It’s nice meeting you!
Um, to tell you a few things about myself, I’m a sophomore and female. I’m not from Washington State. I’ve got two older brothers, and was raised by my dad. My mom died of cancer when I was three, so I was raised by three guys so I guess I’m kind of a tomboy. I love chicken tacos, Alter Bridge is my favorite band (Mark Tremonti is THE best guitarist ever) and I have a huge crush on Alex Trebek. Weird, I know.
I hope your week has gone well so far. How are your classes going? Great, I hope! Mine are going fine. I know we’re not supposed to tell each other anything too personal, but I have to tell you, I’m already loving my French class, well, except for when the professor called on us to see how much we knew and I accidentally asked if the chicken was in my size. I was going for sweater, but as you see, I screwed that up.
Anyway, I hope this assignment is fun. I’ve never had a pen pal before, but if it gets me an A in psych, then I’m in lol
Talk to you later! : )
9565876
My pen pal answered that night.
______________________________________
From: 9543254
Subject: Hi!
Date: August 28, 10:36 p.m.
To: 9565876
Yo 9565876—
I’m a dude from the Seattle area. I’ve got 3 brothers. Jimi Hendrix, enough said. Not much of an Alter Bridge fan, although I haven’t really listened to them. Tremonti was good when he was with Creed, though. Chicken tacos are cool. You’re into older game show hosts—nice. My classes are good.
What do you look like?
---9543254
______________________________________
~*~*~*~
“How’d it go?” Amy asked when she came in that night from the fast-food place where she worked. She still wore her work uniform that consisted of khaki pants and a crazy colorful striped shirt. She hated it but I thought she looked cute in it and couldn’t help smiling at her every time I saw her wearing it which always made her scowl at me. She was about the same height I was but a little thicker since she’d been a gymnast for most of her life, so she was like a walking muscle. Her skin was gorgeous, the color of coffee with cream, and her eyes were a startling sea foam green. She wore her dark brown hair short, similar to Halle Berry’s, and I thought she was beautiful.
“Good. How about you?” I was sitting at the kitchen table working on a paper for poli-sci.
“Okay. I’ve already got a paper due Friday in my advanced comp class. There goes summer.” She rolled her eyes and plopped down on the couch, picking up the remote and clicking through channels on the TV like crazy.
I chuckled. “They don’t waste time, that’s for sure. I’m working on a paper right now.”
“What’s your topic?” she asked, peeking over the back of the couch at me.
“We have to read something about the American Dream and argue how it impacts different ethnic groups.”
“Yawn,” she answered. “Ours is something about Hamlet and self-awareness and its meaning. Double yawn.”
I chuckled again. “Good times.”
“Yeah,” she muttered turning back to the TV.
“Hey, do you know a guy named Gable Powers?”
Her head whipped around. “Everyone knows who Gable Powers is. Why?”
“Remember the guy who helped me with my flat when I came to meet you?”
“Nuh uh!” she answered, staring at me in disbelief, her mouth hanging open.
I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Yeah, and now he’s in my psych class and is just as big a jerk as he was the first time I met him.”
“He’s hot, Scout.”
“He might be hot, but after today, I know he’s still a jerk.”
“What happened?”
I told her what he’d said and she squealed. “Holy shit! He wants you!”
“Maybe in a Cro-Magnon sort of way.”
She laughed. “Still,” she said grinning at me, wiggling her eyebrows, which made me snort. “Keep me posted on what else he says.” She turned back to the TV and I frowned, not having thought that he and I would have another enco
unter.
“God, I was hoping that was it…” I mumbled.
“From the way it sounds, I don’t think it’s over,” she said as she continued turning from one station to the next with the remote. I bit my lip and frowned, staring at my laptop and wondering what else he might have to say to me. “Okay, on that, I’m gonna take a shower,” she said as she stood, muttering on her way out of the living room that she couldn’t take smelling like a giant French fry any longer which brought me out of my ruminating and made me chuckle.
I’d lucked out that Amy was a good roommate. I’d been a little wary because Heath and Holden had told me some scary stories about their former roomies, but thank God that wasn’t the case for me.