His Sassy Intern (Insta-Love on the Run Book 6) Page 3

  “What are you ladies up to?” He doesn’t take the bait.

  “Is this your room, Levi? Do you live here?”

  “You know the answer to that.”

  “Then go and bark up someone else’s tree.”

  Levi puts a bit of pressure on the door. He’s not exactly trying that much. It’s more to get my attention. “I could just ask Reese or one of her uncles to come ask you for themselves,” he offers.

  I’m not amused, but I’m nervous as hell. I try lying. “But Reese is in here. Reese!” I call out, hoping one of the girls will answer well enough for Levi to accept my story and make tracks. “Please tell Levi that we’re busy. He’s interrupting.”

  “Reese may have a twin,” Levi says, looking down the hall toward the staircase. “But if you come out here and have a dance with me downstairs, maybe I can convince her she’s needed downstairs, too. That may be just enough time for your friends to finish up with what you’re doing in there. Or, I can just call her right now and ask if she wants to check her room for three college girls and a can of spray paint.”

  Fuck.

  He’s onto us. How does he know?

  I turn to the ladies. Holly mouths the words “He’s lying” and I wonder how the hell she could know that for sure. I give a nervous shrug, pointing at the door to indicate that I’ll take one for the team. “All right,” I tell Levi. “I’ll come out in just a second.”

  “No. You’ll come out now. I don’t have all night.”

  He gazes at me with those piercing blue eyes. He’s not bluffing. I step out into the hallway. Levi takes my arm firmly and leads me into the room across the hall, shutting the door behind him. He grabs me by the shoulder and backs me against the door.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demand.

  He meets my eyes, placing each hand against the door, bracketing me in so I can’t move. I open my mouth to tell him he has no right to manhandle me like this, or to think he can have his way with me, but I don’t get a word out. Levi covers my mouth with his, and swallows up every syllable with a kiss I was not expecting. He steals my breath, and my mind shuts off.

  Christ.

  He can kiss.

  I’m probably liking it too much, considering that instead of pushing him away, my hands are gripping the spandex fabric of his costume. There isn’t an inch between our bodies either. I moan into his kiss as he flicks his tongue and parts my lips. I sound like I’m purring at the back of my throat. I explore his mouth and he ravishes mine, and soon one of my legs has already inched up and hooked around his calf.

  The feel of his bulge pressing against my mound is what brings me back to reality. I’m not supposed to like Levi. I can’t enjoy this. That’s when I use all my strength to push him off me. I pull my right hand to the side, giving me enough room to unleash one heck of a slap on the side of his jaw.

  “I promised you a dance, not a make-out session,” I tell him. “Back the hell up and let me go.”

  Levi rubs the spot where I smacked him and smiles. “That kiss was a long time coming, kitty cat, but the whack across the face was a nice bonus.”

  “I hope it leaves a mark,” I grumble, stepping away from the door.

  He pulls the door open and wedges his hand in the crook of my arm. “Let’s dance.”

  Chapter 4

  Levi

  The second Mary Anne and I make it downstairs, there’s a wall of my football teammates with their girlfriends and groupies waiting for me. I tell them to act like I’m not here. I’m busy trying to get Mary Anne in my corner after all these years. Priorities come first.

  She walks ahead of me and prowls onto the dance floor like she owns the place. She raises her arms and faces the DJ. He's lucky he has mad skills on the turntable, because that Dracula costume is only slightly better than the sad excuse for a Transylvanian accent he’s trying to pull off. I take four long strides and catch up to her, wrapping a possessive arm around her shoulder. Mary Anne turns and begins to dance, grinding her ass into my groin. My dick is happy as fuck right now, and I realize that kiss upstairs was just a warm-up. My plans for her do not include letting her get away. Not this time.

  The crowd is larger than when I left to go upstairs. The foyer and dance area are now comprised of swarms of college-aged partygoers with budget costumes that expose more skin. These people are cramped together on the dance floor. Bodies are touching. The sexual energy is wild.

  My kind of place.

  A cocktail server passes by with a tray crammed tight with shots of bourbon. She stops and lowers her platter so we can grab a couple. Mary Anne scoops up two, gulps them down, then she grabs two more. I follow suit, throwing back all four drinks one after the other, snapping my eyes shut as the burn slides down my throat and warms my stomach.

  I stack our empty glasses in one hand, take her arm with the other, and immediately lead her to the only spot on the dance floor with some breathing room.We’re still cramped up against a corner, but it’s the best we’ve got.

  “If you kiss me again, be ready for a throat punch this time,” she warns me.

  “You don’t really mean that,” I answer with complete certainty.

  It’s her eyes that betray her. She wants nothing more than to continue where we left off. I’ve waited long enough. In one fluid motion, I lean down to kiss her lips and pull her hands around my neck, gripping them tightly in case she gets tempted to follow through on using physical violence. Just as I predicted, Mary Anne does not protest. Her hips move into me, already lost to our attraction as the fierce beats of Marilyn Manson’s Tainted Hearts vibrate and intensify the moment.

  Her hands reach up and grip my hair in tight fists. There’s no turning back now. I have to have her.

  Tonight.

  Grabbing her hips, I take her with me as I back up and lean against the wall behind me. Mary Anne is really into this. She starts winding her hips in small circles that have my cock rock hard in no time. I pull her tighter against me to show her the effect she’s having on my groin area. She does not back away. Her breathing speeds up, and her breasts heave against my chest. I’m thinking I need to get her some place private before I end up ripping off what little clothes she has on right now. Too bad the music downshifts to something slow and creepy from Corpse Bride, killing the mood.

  Or so I thought.

  Mary Anne pulls away, but takes my hand as she rushes off the dance floor and down the wide main floor hallways. All I can think about is getting her tight little body against me again. Apparently she’s contemplating the same thing when she pushes open one of the closed powder room doors at the end of the hall and drags me inside.

  The air around us starts to spark with energy. Mary Anne gazes up at me and returns her hand to the back of my neck. Letting her body sway forward into my chest, she trails her hand down the side of my face. I wasn’t expecting this tenderness from her. It’s as though she’s been waiting for years to know what my skin feels like. I cover her hand with mine and turn my head, kissing her palm. Her eyes flutter closed as I graze my lips from her fingers down to her mouth.

  Mary Anne is worked up into a frenzied state. Our hands are all over each other, and our kissing is fierce and wild and almost angry, the kind of kiss that leaves lips raw and swollen. My hands slip down to her hips, and she tugs at the waistband of my costume, which is pretty futile, given that it’s a fucking jumpsuit. Yeah, I should have thought ahead with this onesie piece of shit. I either need to rip it off my body or turn into a dainty little douche by turning around so she can get at the zipper and Velcro keeping this thing on me. Whatever there is between us, it’s been building up for years. I don’t want a minute to slow down, think or bring any logic into the equation. From where I’m standing, she doesn’t either. I don’t exactly know what to call what’s going down. It’s not romantic or sweet. It’s primal and crude and long overdue.

  I choose option one.

  The Captain America getup is suddenly shreds of fabric as
I grip the back of my costume and tear Velcro from polyester until I’ve peeled what’s left down my chest and abs. Gripping Mary Anne by her waist, I pick her up, wrap her legs around my hips, and carry her to the marble counter at the powder room sink. I kiss and bite hungrily down her neck and collarbone, letting my hands roam freely up and down her legs. Sexy whimpers escape her mouth. I swear the way she moans out my name makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and leave this party like a caveman. Every sound is hardwired to my cock, which responds by twitching, throbbing, and expanding in my tights. I let out a growl when her fingers dig sharply into my shoulders. That mixture of pain and pleasure is only going to make later on all the more stimulating for both of us.

  Mary Anne grips around my hips with her legs and grinds her heat against my rigid cock. All I can do is stretch into the convenient side pocket. I retrieve a condom. I’m prepared because I’ve been waiting forever, and for some fucked up reason, that whole thought process makes me pull back. I don’t want her this way. I want memorable. I want her stretched out in my bed, naked, with all her red hair fanned out on my pillow. I want her to know what it feels like to have an entire night with me pleasuring her over and over until she doesn’t want anyone else’s hands or lips or other body parts touching her.

  I want to ruin her and keep her for myself.

  “We’re leaving,” I announce, helping her to her feet.

  “What?” she asks, still overcome and disoriented.

  “We’re going to my place.” I say it with such finality, she nods and takes my hand.

  “I just need to grab my purse from upstairs. Meet you at the front door?”

  “Sure.”

  She runs her hands down my bare chest, smiling at what I can only guess is what’s left of my costume. “Looks like you and the Hulk had a brawl. Either that, or you’re going through an identity crisis.”

  My hands make it into her hair and I tilt her face up to mine. “This is what being close to you does to me,” I growl into her ear. “Hurry up so I can show you more.”

  Mary Anne grins and leaves ahead of me. I make my way to the front door, but on the way there, the arrival of a new guest does not impress me at all.

  Chapter 5

  Mary Anne

  I’m glad to catch sight of Holly and Wendy coming down the stairs after temporarily parting ways with a shirtless Levi. It means I won’t have too much time to change my mind. What I started in the bathroom with Levi is far from over. It’s hardly begun. I don’t even want to stop and unpack any thoughts, desires, fears or emotions right now. My goal is to make sure Holly got her wrath out of her system, get my purse from Wendy, and let Levi take me away from here so we can make this night more interesting.

  “Great timing, girls. I was just on my way up to grab my clutch. You still have it, right, Wendy?” I ask at the bottom of the stairs.

  She nods and scoops it out of her bag. “Here you go.”

  “How did you ladies do?” I ask.

  “I talked her off a ledge,” Wendy announces proudly over the Ghostbusters theme song the DJ just put on.

  “What? What ledge?”

  Holly moves to the music a little, but shakes her head. “What Wendy is trying to say is that thanks to her, I took the high road and did not go through with spray-painting Reese’s personal effects.”

  “Hang on. That’s not what I intended to say at all,” Wendy objects, glaring over at Holly. “Our devil in training can only be credited with not causing the house to go up in flames right now.”

  “What the hell? Christ, you brought the lighter fluid?” I screech, then I glance to the left and right to check whether anyone heard me.

  “Relax. I only doused the clothes with it. I didn’t light a match or anything.”

  “And you left them on the floor?”

  “What else do want me to do? Mess up my costume by gathering it up and taking them to the laundry room? That’s the least Reese can do when she finds the pile. She should be thanking me.”

  “Those clothes have to be hand-washed now,” I tell Holly, pressing my lips together to avoid losing my shit right now. I push past my friends, who follow me back up the stairs and into Reese’s room. “Can one of you check for where there’s a deep enough sink?”

  Holly grips my arm as I step in front of the pile of clothes. “We are not cleaning this up,” she insists. “Why go through all the trouble to do this and then fix it ourselves?”

  “Do I really need to answer that? You went too far.” I gesture over at Wendy. “Check that door on the side of the armchair. That’s probably her en-suite bathroom. Fill the tub with cool, soapy water. I’ll get these in there. I’m heading out after this, so it’s okay if stuff gets on my clothes. Just pray no one is throwing around firecrackers or ends up flicking a cigarette at me, because I’ll be in fucking flames on Halloween night!” I scream.

  Most of the tension in my tone has to do with the frustration going on between my legs, but they don’t need to know what Levi and I got up to while they were toying with a possible arson charge.

  I scoop up the clothes by the armful and take them to the tub. A few trips and we’re done before the water fills up. I smell like I work at a gas station, but whatever. Maybe Levi won’t notice.

  “I’m out of here, ladies,” I announce when Wendy turns off the tap.

  “Come on. Don’t go yet,” Holly begs from the bathroom door. “Let’s at least have a few drinks downstairs, and dance a bit.”

  “Did you not hear the part about my clothes reeking? I can’t keep wearing these.”

  Holly points to Reese’s closet. “How about a switcheroo courtesy of the man-stealing bitch of the hour?”

  “For a smart girl, you can really say some dumb shit sometimes, Holly,” I bark, already at the edge of my rope. “From vandalism to arson to larceny. What’s next? Kidnapping and murder?”

  She titters out a fake laugh. “You’re overreacting. I’d never go that far. Murder’s pretty extreme. Plus it’s not kidnapping if I lock her in a coffin for under three hours in her own house during a Halloween party. It’s just a prank. Trust me, I checked… Unless she dies…” Her voice trails off for a moment. Wendy and I don’t budge. “Come on. One drink and we’re out,” Holly adds, turning on her heel. I get the feeling Wendy is as concerned as I am about Holly’s mental health. “Why are we still here? Let’s get downstairs.”

  I huff out a breath.

  Holly’s statement sheds new light on how she knew Levi was lying about Reese being on her way to her room earlier. I ask myself whether or not I want to know if Holly is serious about putting Reese on lockdown in a coffin.

  No.

  Hell no, I don’t, but it bothers the crap out of me.

  My buzz is officially killed. I’m not even horny anymore. Not when I smell like noxious fumes and I'm worried about Holly's prank going too far. Grumpy now, I follow them downstairs. “We’re getting Reese out first, Holly,” I inform her.

  “Why?” Holly only has to look at me to know I mean business. ”Fine. She’s in the basement.”

  We hurry through the partying crowd. Half of them are doing versions of the dance from Thriller as the song plays—some better than others, depending on natural dance talent, stages of inebriation, and the amount of wiggle room they have to work with inside their costumes. One guy dressed in a Blue Man Group stretch skinsuit costume is hitting all the right angles. The dude who fashioned a standing dachshund out of cardboard—not so much. But at least they're all way more lighthearted than the three of us. I’m here to party, dammit, not clean up the crazy lady’s mess.

  Holly shows us the door to the basement. “Okay girls. Just make a right, then two lefts when you get down these steps. It’s a huge space, so look for the cordoned-off red velvet rope barriers. She’s in the room behind it.”

  I wave a hand to stop her. “Hang on right there, honey. You’re not coming?”

  She shakes her head absently. Or maybe that’s guilt. “If
I go down there and let her out, she'll know it was me. It’s better if you two go alone. You can just say you wandered into the room and found her.”

  “Why would she even think it was you at all?”

  Holly stares at her nails. “She wouldn’t. I’ve always been nice to her. I just feel it’s better this way.” Her lips start to tremble. Tears well up in her eyes, and she sits on the gray leather, tufted seat cushion beside the door. “I just can’t face her, guys. Reese really hurt me back then. The day that I told her I was going to marry Carver, it was during the first break at grade school. She was on him by lunch! I know it was just third grade, but I loved him… I really did,” she whimpers. “I think I still do, but he won’t even look in my direction because of who my dad is.”

  Wow. What a revelation. It doesn’t excuse Holly from what she’s done tonight, but hell, I did not know she's had an almost lifelong hankering for Carver. Sure, I’ve noticed them checking each other out, but wow. That sure explains a hell of a lot. Holly’s dad is the head coach of LSU’s football team, and Carver is one of the top players. Even Levi goes on and on about the kid. That would make Holly completely off-limits to that entire team. Forbidden fruit. I doubt any college athlete at all would chance to look at her. Her dad can probably get a ping pong player cut from an LSU team if he so desires. No wonder she’s gone all Black Swan on us.

  Wendy and I sit on each side of her. I rub her back while Wendy digs around in her purse for tissues.

  “It’s all right, hun,” I tell her. “I’m sorry she did that to you… and it sucks that your dad being head coach cramps your social life. I really do, but you have to see that this… this stunt is taking things too far. You do see that, don’t you?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Good.” I look at her hunched-over sobbing form, and nod at Wendy. “You drove here, right?”