Twisted Love (Twisted #1)(54)

“You mean you don’t want to rule, Your Majesty?” I teased. “You could be a queen and see your face on a postage stamp.”

Bridget laughed. “No, thank you. As tempting as a postage stamp with my face is, I’d rather have a modicum of freedom.” She shot a dark look in Rhys’s direction. “Unless my bodyguard has other ideas.”

“He’s strict, but at least he’s delicious,” Jules said in a stage whisper. “No offense to Booth, but whew. ” She fanned herself.

“Is that all you think about?” Bridget asked, clearly torn between laughter and frustration.

A shadow slid across Jules’s face before it disappeared. “Most of the time. I like to think about pleasant things. Speaking of which…” She turned to me. “Where’s Lover Boy?”

I rolled my eyes, a blush spreading over my cheeks. “Don’t call him that, and he’s busy running a company. He doesn’t have time for college events.”

“You sure about that?” Stella tilted her chin at something behind me.

I whipped around, my heart jumping in my throat when I saw Alex standing behind me. In his navy cashmere sweater and jeans, he cut a sophisticated figure amongst the crowds of drunk college students and rumpled professors.

I couldn’t help it—I ran and threw my arms around him. “I thought you had work!”

“I took off early.” He pressed a kiss to my lips, and I sighed with pleasure. “I miss Fall Fest.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s what you miss,” Jules teased.

My friends stared at us with fascination, and I realized this was the first time they’d seen us together as a…couple? I wasn’t sure what to call our relationship. “Couple” sounded too mundane, but I guessed that was what we were.

We went on dates, talked through the night, and had wild, explosive sex. Alex Volkov and I were a couple.

The butterflies in my stomach quivered with excitement.

Alex stayed with us through the end of Fall Fest. He declined to play most of the festival games, but we convinced him to take pictures at the pumpkin-themed photo booth.

“Do you realize these are the first photos we have of the two of us?” I waved the Polaroids in triumph. “If you don’t hang them in your living room, I’ll be offended.”

“I don’t know. You don’t match my decor,” he said in a bland tone.

I swatted him on the arm, earning myself a rare laugh. Stella nearly choked on her hot cocoa, she was so shocked.

It was the perfect afternoon: great food, great weather, great company. The only hiccup occurred when Alex nicked himself on something sharp at one of the booths. The cut was deep enough that blood welled and streaked down his finger.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s just a scratch.”

“You’re bleeding.” I planted my hands on my hips. “We have to clean and bandage it. Let’s go.” My tone brooked no opposition.

No way in hell was he walking around with blood dripping down his hand. What if it got infected?

Alex’s mouth quirked up. “Yes, ma’am.”

I huffed at his amusement—he was bleeding —and dragged him to the campus health center, where the bored-looking student assistant supplied us with a gauze pad and Band-Aid.

I rinsed the cut under running tap water in the bathroom and dabbed at it with the gauze. “Hold still.” I tossed the gauze in the trash and peeled open the Band-Aid. “You should’ve been more careful,” I grumbled. “You’re lucky you weren’t seriously hurt. What the hell were you thinking?”

I looked up and found Alex staring at me with a small smile.

“What?”

“You’re cute when you’re worried.”

I pressed my lips together, struggling to contain my smile. “Don’t try to act all sweet so you can get out of trouble.”

“Am I in trouble?” he drawled. He kicked the door shut with his foot and locked it with his free hand.

My pulse ratcheted up a notch. “Yes.”

“You think I’m acting sweet?”

I gave a tiny nod.

Alex hefted me up onto the sink. “We better remedy both those things, shouldn’t we?”

My teeth dug into my bottom lip as he shoved my dress up over my chest and grazed his teeth over my nipples through the thin lace of my bra.

“Alex, we’re in the student health center,” I squeaked, wanting him to both stop and keep going. Everyone was at Fall Fest so the center wasn’t busy, but the receptionist sat a few feet away outside the door and the flimsy walls were anything but soundproof.

“I’m aware.” He pulled my bra aside with his teeth and lavished attention on my breasts while his non-bandaged hand found the sweet spot between my legs. I was already soaked for him, my thighs slick with my juices as he drove me crazy with his mouth and fingers. His erection pressed against my leg, thick and hard as a steel pipe, but when I reached for it, he batted my hand away.

“I hope you’re not attached to your underwear,” he said.

My brows drew together. “Wha—” The sound of fabric tearing answered my incomplete question.

Alex’s mouth curled into a sly grin at my shocked expression. “Since we’ve established that you’re a screamer,” he said. “Open your mouth.”