I wrapped my arms around his neck, and this time I was the one who drew him closer. “Damn,” he murmured.
“What?” I asked, never taking my eyes off his.
He ran his hands over my hips. “I’m not supposed to kiss you.”
“It’s okay.”
“What is?”
“It’s okay if I kiss you.”
Adrian Ivashkov wasn’t easy to surprise, but I surprised him then when I brought his mouth toward mine. I kissed him, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond. That lasted for, oh, about a second. Then the intensity I’d come to know so well in him returned. He pushed me backward, lifting me so that I sat on the table. The tablecloth bunched up, knocking over some of the glasses. I heard what sounded like a china plate crash against the floor.
Whatever logic and reason I normally possessed had melted away. There was nothing but flesh and fire left, and I wasn’t going to lie to myself—at least not tonight. I wanted him. I arched my back, fully aware of how vulnerable that made me and that I was giving him an invitation. He accepted it and laid me back against the table, bringing his body down on top of mine. That crushing kiss of his moved from my mouth to the nape of my neck. He pushed down the edge of my dress and the bra strap underneath, exposing my shoulder and giving his lips more skin to conquer. A glass rolled off and smashed, soon followed by another. Adrian broke off his kissing, and I opened my eyes. He had an exasperated look on his face.
“A table,” he said. “A goddamned table.”
A few moments later, the table was gone. I was in his apartment, on his bed, and was glad that I no longer had silverware underneath me. With the venue change complete, his lips found mine again. The urgency in the way I responded surprised even me. I never would’ve thought myself capable of a feeling so primal, so removed from the reason that usually governed my actions. My nails dug into his back, and he trailed his lips down the edge of my chin, down the center of my neck. He kept going until he reached the bottom of the dress’s V-neck. I let out a small gasp, and he kissed all around the neckline, just enough to tease.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “The dress stays on.”
“Oh? Is that your decision to make?”
“Yes,” he said. “You’re not losing your virginity in a dream. If that’s even possible. I don’t want to deal with the philosophical side of it. And besides, there’s no need to rush anyway. Sometimes it’s worth lingering on the journey for a while before getting to the destination.”
Metaphors. This was the cost of making out with an artist.
I nearly said as much. Then his hand slid up my bare leg, and I was lost again. Maybe the dress was staying on, but he didn’t mind taking liberties with it. That hand slipped under my dress, running along the side of my leg and up to my hip. I burned where he touched me, and everything within me became focused on that hand. It was moving far too slowly, and I grabbed it, ready to urge it on.
Adrian chuckled and caught hold of my wrist, pulling my hand away and pinning it down against the covers. “Never thought I’d be the one slowing you down.”
I opened my eyes and met his. “I’m a quick study.”
All that burning and animal need within me must have shone through because he caught his breath and lost the smile. He released my wrist and cupped my face in his hands, bringing his face down only a whisper away from mine. “Good God, Sydney. You are—” The passion in his eyes turned to surprise, and he suddenly looked up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, wondering if this was some weird part of “the journey.”
He grimaced and began to fade away before my eyes. “You’re being woken up.”
CHAPTER 22
I OPENED MY EYES, groggy from the sudden shock of being pulled out of the dream. My body felt sluggish, and I squinted against the light. The lamp I’d left on last night was joined by sunlight streaming in through the window, but my phone’s display still showed a freakishly early hour. Someone knocked at my door, and I realized that was what had woken me up. I ran a hand through my disheveled hair and rose unsteadily from the bed.
“If she needs a geography tutor now, I really am going to Mexico,” I muttered. But when I opened the door, it wasn’t Angeline standing outside my door. It was Jill.
“Something big just happened,” she said, hurrying in.
“Not to me it didn’t.”
If she noticed my annoyance, she didn’t show it. In fact, as I studied her more closely, I realized she probably had no idea (yet) about what had happened between Adrian and me. From what I’d learned, spirit dreams weren’t shared through the bond unless the shadow-kissed person was directly brought into it.
I sighed and sat down on my bed again, wishing I could go back to sleep. The heat and excitement of the dream was fading, and mostly I felt tired now. “What’s wrong?”
“Angeline and Trey.”
I groaned. “Oh, lord. What’s she done to him now?”
Jill settled into my desk chair and put on a steely look of resolve. Whatever was coming was bad. “She tried to get him to sneak into our dorm last night.”
“What?” I really did need more sleep because my brain was having trouble understanding the reasoning behind that. “She’s not that dedicated to her math grade . . . is she?”
Jill gave me a wry look. “Sydney, they weren’t working on math.”
“Then why were they—oh. Oh no.” I fell backward onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “No. This can’t be happening.”
“I already tried saying that to myself,” she told me. “It doesn’t help.”
I rolled over to my side so that I could look at her again. “Okay, assuming this is true, how long has it been going on?”
“I don’t know.” Jill sounded as tired as me—and a lot more exasperated. “You know how she is. I tried to get answers out of her, but she kept going on about how it wasn’t her fault and how it just happened.”
“What’d Trey say?” I asked.
“I never got a chance to talk to him. He got hauled away as soon as they were caught.” She smiled, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “On the bright side, he got in a lot more trouble than she did, so we don’t have to worry about her getting expelled.”
Oh no. “Do we have to worry about him getting expelled?”
“I don’t think so. I heard about other people trying this, and they just get detention for life. Or something.”
Small blessing. Angeline was in detention so much that they’d at least have bonding time. “Well, then I guess there isn’t much to be done. I mean, the emotional fallout’s going to be a mess, of course.”
“Well . . .” Jill shifted nervously. “That’s just it. You see, first Eddie needs to be told—”
I shot up out of my bed. “I am not doing that.”
“Oh, of course not. No one would ever expect you to do that.” I wasn’t so sure but let her continue. “Angeline’s going to. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Yes. . . .” I still wasn’t letting down my guard.
“But someone still needs to talk to Eddie afterward,” she explained. “It’s going to be hard on him, you know? He shouldn’t be left alone. He needs a friend.”
“Aren’t you his friend?” I asked.
She flushed. “Well, yeah, of course. But I don’t know that it’d be right since . . . well, you know how I feel about him. Better to have someone more reasonable and objective. Besides, I don’t know if I’d do a good job or not.”