Page 59 of Savage Blooms
“No,” Adam said, breathy and low.
Nicola opened her mouth to ask him if he wanted to come inside, to practically beg him to, but then, to her surprise, he took the initiative. Closing the gap between them, Adam kissed her again, harder this time. Nicola’s head swam and her lips burned as Adam pulled away.
“I don’t know what’s happening to us out here,” he confessed. “And I need a little time to make sense of it. But I’m not mad about it.”
“Me either,” Nicola said.
“Goodnight, Nikki,” Adam said. And then, with a little bit of his old stalwart cheer, “Sleep tight, don’t die.”
“Sleep tight, don’t die,” Nicola responded. And then, she was alone in the hallway.
Thank God Adam turned the corner towards his room at the end of the hall instead of climbing the stairs towards Eileen’s room. Nicola didn’t think she could take that.
She slipped into her room and locked the door behind her, peeling off her clothes the moment the latch clicked tight. She stripped off her dress, unlatching her bra and letting her heavy breasts free. Then, wearing nothing but her black cotton panties, she snagged her vibrator from her travel bag and slipped into bed.
Her head swam with a hundred worries and desires and theories. Her MacBook, left open to a half-read JSTOR article, glowed at her from the desk. Nicola was irritated by the light and the reminder of her quest for the truth, and crawled across the bed to snap the laptop shut before nestling back down against the pillows.
She didn’t want to think about how anything could go wrong right now, or about what Eileen might have in store for any of them. She just wanted relief from the ache between her legs.
Nicola didn’t think she could fuck herself soundly enough to quiet all the longing inside her, but she could certainly try.
She kicked her vibrator onto the highest setting and teased herself for only a minute before thrusting the toy all the way inside herself. Usually she needed more warm-up, but she was so embarrassingly wet that her body tookthe vibrator with absolutely no resistance. Her fingers grew slick as she moved the toy in and out of her body, faster and harder with every thrust.
Her mind was a swirl of indistinct lust, alighting for one second on Finley’s full mouth, then on Eileen’s burning eyes, then on the scent of Adam, all mint toothpaste and amber deodorant. She tried to force herself to conjure any garden-variety fantasy: something tame, something that wouldn’t muddy the boundaries between her and her friends any more.
But when she came, hard and sudden and with a cry that could no doubt be heard all through the house, she was imagining all three of them, covering her with hands and mouths in a vicious game of conquest, ruining her for their pleasure like she was the mouthwatering centerpiece of their feast of desire.
Nicola caught her breath in the dark for a good ten minutes afterwards, riding out the aftershocks. She had hoped to work all that longing out of her system, but she had barely recovered before she plunged back intowantingagain. Her stomach tightened with need the moment she turned her thoughts back to Adam or Eileen or Finley. She let out a sound close to a sob as she slipped her fingers back down between her legs, circling her clit in search of a second orgasm.
Craigmar, it appeared, had made her insatiable.
Nicola couldn’t say how long she slept in the next day. She had dropped into unconsciousness the night before, utterly wrung out, and hadn’t even thought to set an alarm on her phone. By the time she opened her eyes, on her eighth day at Craigmar, the sun was bright through her gossamer curtains and the birds were singing a full-throated chorus.
The date of her flight home had come and gone, and she had barely noticed. Realizing that the plane had taken off without her felt like crossing a threshold, like throwing her lot in with her new friends in a very real and immediate way.
She hauled herself into consciousness, groggy and irritable. Despite all the orgasms, she hadn’t slept well, and had been tormented by nightmares. Visions of humiliation floated through her mind as she dressed: Adam shouting at her for committing some sort of infidelity, Finley running into her at a party and pretending like he didn’t know her, Eileen lending Nicola a dress only for Nicola to rip it down the seam and sob while trying to mend it. And there had been another dream as well, something darker and more strange. A cold, long-fingered hand encircling her throat, holding her as gently as a farmer might hold a chicken he didn’t want to startle before wringing its neck, and an unfamiliar voice whispering her own name in her ear.
Nicola scrubbed her face clean in the bathroom, patted off the excess water, then fastidiously applied mascara, concealer and shimmery lip balm like a soldier preparing for war.
No matter how any of the others felt about what had happened last night, she would not be made to feel ashamed.
Nicola found her way down the stairs to the kitchen without Adam – Craigmar was becoming more familiar with each passing day – and she was greeted by the sound of men’s voices as she approached. Nicola paused a few feet from the doorway, listening intently. Eavesdropping had always been one of her favorite vices.
“Did you sleep well?” Adam was asking.
“Like the dead,” Finley said. “Eileen’s games always tire me out.”
“Is Eileen still out cold?”
“She lies in later than most. But I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you when she wakes up.”
“Oh yeah?” Adam replied, a teasing challenge in his voice. “I’m sure Nicola will be happy to see you too.”
Nicola’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name, betraying her with girlish hope, and heat pooled in her stomach at the idea of these two men discussing her when she wasn’t around, with an altogether more adult sort of longing.
Why did that faint whisper of objectification turn her on so much? She was losing her mind. She had to be.
“Did you and Eileen kiss and make up?” Adam went on. “You two seemed like you were on the rocks last night.”
