Connected (Connections, #1)(3)

I stopped in the kitchen to grab a third beer, and then I headed back into the living room. All the lights had been turned off and orange candles glowed everywhere as the sound of haunting music filled the room.

I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist and Ben nibbled on my ear. “Where you been, Dahl?”

“Just grabbing a beer,” I answered, holding my Solo cup up in the air and twisting around in his arms.

Loud screams diverted my attention back to the ice luge where Aerie was jumping up and down, grabbing her throat, and squealing as if in pain. Motioning my head toward her, I set my cup down on the banister. “What’s she drinking?”

Clutching his arms tighter around my hips, he pulled me closer to him. As he slipped his long fingers inside the waistband of my black leggings, he fingered the lace of my panties and whispered in my ear, “Don’t know.” Then he placed one of his legs between mine and asked, “Want some?”

I shook my head no and was nearly panting as I responded. “I promised Aerie I’d go with her to the bar and listen to some new band. One of us should stay somewhat lucid—at least until we get there.”

He trailed his hands across the top of my panties; the fingertips of his one hand grazed from my backside across to my hipbone. Before I knew what was happening, his fingers started drifting down into the front of my pants.

“I didn’t mean the luge,” he said coyly before plunging his tongue into my ear and grinding his hips into mine.

I pulled back from him and effectively removed his hands from inside my leggings. I needed to stop this very public display of affection before I couldn’t. I brushed his blond hair away from his seductive blue eyes and asked, “You coming?”

Grinning fiendishly, he answered, “I hope to be soon, gorgeous!”

I laughed and shook my head. “Ben Covington, you’re impossible.”

Loud music played overhead in the dimly lit room that was largely occupied by trick-or-treaters who paid no attention to us. I reached around his neck and tugged his head down to mine, melding my mouth to his. He really was something else.

Ben pulled his soft lips from mine and groaned in my ear. “My room now. I need to f*ck you.”

I leaned back and stared at his incredibly irresistible grin. Summoning all of my willpower, I tried to decide what to do.

Before I could respond, Aerie tugged my ponytail. She had a light sway to her stance and with her slightly slurred words she said, “There you are, girlfriend! You ready?”

Disentangling myself from him, I shrugged my shoulders and mouthed, “Sorry. Rain check?”

He exhaled and muttered under his breath to Aerie, “Nice f*cking timing.”

Aerie, being Aerie, thumped him in the forehead. “Watch the language, *,” she quipped haughtily as she reached for my arm.

Leaning back toward Ben, I gave him a swift kiss. With Aerie forcefully tugging me toward the door, I managed to say, “Meet you back here later.” Walking backwards and giggling, I blew Ben a kiss and waved goodbye.

Rocking back on his heels, he stood with both hands in his pockets while biting his lip and shaking his head at me.





The cool night helped to settle the heat Ben had just sparked in my body. Sounds of Halloween echoed from every direction as we walked down fraternity row. I put my hands over my ears to block the shrill of the annoying sounds filtering from house windows. I glanced at Aerie, or more specifically, at her devil costume. She must have been plastered when she got ready because it wasn’t something I could have ever imagined her wearing. It really was the most ridiculous outfit; a very short red sequin dress, high heels, and all the accessories to match. It could barely pass as an acceptable red-light district ensemble—let alone a Halloween costume.

As we walked toward the bar, I grabbed a stumbling Aerie by the arm before she landed on her ass. “Have a nice trip?” I laughed, knowing full well she didn’t like to be made fun of but not really caring right now.

Aerie shrugged, pulling her wavy beautiful blonde hair back and fastening it with the clip she had been fishing out of her purse when she missed her step. “Be nice,” she quipped, stopping me so she could readjust her shoe. “At least you can’t call me a non-conformist!” She stopped pouting, having resolved her anger toward my sarcastic remark by assaulting me with her drunken words.

I had never told Aerie that Halloween was the anniversary of my parents’ death. Ben was the only one who knew. He understood why I disliked Halloween and why I never dressed up. For me, it was already a dark day, and I never felt the need to cover my sadness by camouflaging my feelings with a costume.

I sighed at her intoxicated state and recognized my own, not exactly sober, frame of mind; I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and put on my very best Vincent Price voice from Thriller. “Ahhhahhahaaahaaa, you know I never conform. It’s against my religion.”

We continued walking—Aerie in red high-heel vixen pumps, me in black Converse sneakers—and she tripped again, leaving her shoe behind her this time. “Aerie, really, I think your outfit could have done without those shoes. They’re too big, you dumbass.” I turned around and picked up her shoe. “What size are these?” I asked, squinting to see inside the shoe.

“Don’t worry about it; it’s not like you’d ever wear them anyway, Miss I-Always-Have-to-Wear-Comfortable-Shoes. It was the only pair of red shoes left, and one size too big is hardly an issue when they match your outfit perfectly,” she announced, yanking the shoe out of my hand. “You know it’s all about the look. I’d sacrifice comfort for style any day. Ahem…” she cleared her throat while looking down at my shoes.