There’s no fight in me anymore. She’s proven her point. I’m not the one in control here. I tug her off her knees and into my lap. We’re both sticky and her body shines like the sun. I bring her mouth to mine and kiss her passionately, sharing the source of energy that courses between us all.
She pulls back and says, “I was wrong about one thing.”
I push a curl of hair off her cheek. “What’s that?”
“You didn’t need a little release.” Her hand rests on my shoulder. “You needed a big one.”
Chapter 10
Morgan
Late afternoon sun warms the window seat. I’ve got my notebook in my lap and I’m struggling with the assignment given to me by Professor Christensen. It seemed easy at the time; three questions for the main characters of each other’s books. Anita’s book has a character, a young man named Cass. He’s the son of an original survivor—a very powerful man—whose family has created a dominant class in their post-apocalyptic world. Cass does not see eye to eye with his tyrannical father and he’s heir to the throne. On his father’s deathbed he’s told that their power comes from a magic source. Cass must decide if he’s going to use the power the same as his father did or toss it aside altogether and become one with the people.
With my pen, I scribble down a few questions:
Does Cass have the strength to survive with ordinary citizens?
Will the people even accept him as one of them?
Who will take over if he steps down from the throne?
My stomach rumbles and I check the time. Dinner is in ten minutes. With every encounter, the table becomes a little more intimate. The earlier activities with Dylan provides another link in the chain. I’ve tested them all and I’m not closer to finding a mate than I was when I started. Each of my guardians is worthy. They’re talented and smart. Strong and capable. They put my needs and safety first.
There was no condition that I had to lose my virginity to my mate. I’d clarified that in an awkward and abrupt conversation with Dylan two weeks ago. But it still seemed like the right thing to do, so I held off. How would I even decide which man was to be my first real lover? They’re all equally compelling and proving themselves quite skilled sexually.
Although I’d still done nothing more than a little dry humping and making out with Clinton, I’ve experienced enough with them all that it seems even more likely I’ll have to make a wild guess as to who will be the first.
I walk to the bathroom and drag a comb through my curly hair. My lips still look a little enlarged and my cheeks carry a red tint from the encounter with Dylan. I’d never known a man so stubborn. He certainly brought out my rebellious side and I loved seeing him crack under pressure and just let go. I smile at my reflection. That had been delicious. He had been delicious.
I hear a knock at the door and rest my hairbrush on the counter. I slip on my shoes and find Sam waiting outside the door. He looks amazing, as always, even dressed in his causal knee-length shorts and button-down shirt. Tonight the shorts are a dark navy blue and the shirt a preppy-plaid. His warm, brown skin makes his green eyes shine. His hair is tied in a knot at the back of his head.
“Ready for dinner?”
“I am, thanks for waiting for me.”
He exhales and I see a glimmer of exhaustion. “I’ve been in the studio all day. I needed to see someone else. Lucky for me, the most beautiful woman in the house lives down the hall.”
I snort. “I’m the only woman in the house.”
He frowns. “What about Sue? She’d take offense to that.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
That earns me a grin and he links his arm with mine. Sam escorting me to our mandatory dinner has become a tradition—one I like. Slowly I’ve come to appreciate each of the men for their individuality, and Sam, at the end of the day, is probably my very best friend in the house.
A friend with benefits, but a friend all the same.
“How was your meeting with your professor today?” he asks as we arrive in the foyer.
“Good. I was just working on an assignment. He’s determined to have me and my critique partner work more together. She’s coming here on Thursday.”
“Here?”
“Yes, we’ll meet in the library.” But his question makes me pause and I hold on to his elbow. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you guys have any friends? People you work with? I know you all slip off occasionally at night. Where are you going?”