“Sad.”
“Tragic. And what about you? Am I supposed to believe you slept alone every night in Saint Tropez?”
That backed him off, both amorously and physically. He released me and turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Had I struck a nerve with him, prying into his extracurricular activities? It wasn’t that I was jealous—far from it. It was hard to be jealous when one of my first interactions with Zephyr had involved watching another girl fellate him. Yet there he was, at a loss for words at my intimation.
“Actually,” he said at last, not looking at me, “I wasn’t with anyone this summer.”
“You say that like it’s something to be embarrassed by.”
He chuckled and glanced over: “Fidelity’s not my thing, Biba. That shouldn’t come as a shock to you. I fuck around. It’s just what I do.”
“But not this summer?”
“No.”
“Was there a chlamydia outbreak on the beach?”
He rolled over and took my face in his hands. Zephyr always carried an intensity with him that vacillated between brooding and derisive. It had taken a while, but I’d gotten used to it. This was different.
“What’s wrong?” I asked nervously. “Did something happen in France?”
“Yes,” he muttered with something like shame, “I discovered I missed you. I wished you were with me, and I didn’t want anyone else. I couldn’t cheat.”
“Wow,” I replied. Then, put off by his vulnerability, I replied: “I didn’t either, but then again, my only option was dusty old Amelia.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” he laughed. “She’s ancient, but she keeps it tight.”
He pulled me close to his hard, sinewy frame.
“Biba, I’m serious. I don’t want anyone but you. You should stay.”
“What? At Stormcloud?”
“In my room, with me. For the year.”
“You’re asking me to cohabitate, Williams? That’s very adult.”
“I’ve never wanted a girl to stay the night in my bed, baby. Not Erin Holland. Not anyone. But I want you in my arms every night.”
I wriggled a bit. It was a compelling offer. I could count all my lovers on the fingers of one hand, and the other three were Stormcloud men in thrall to Zeph. But it was hard to imagine a man who could satisfy me like him. In only a short time, we’d tapped reservoirs within each other. Wellsprings of passion, of courage, of emotion. What could we accomplish over a whole year?
Yet my conscience cried out to say no. He was the leader of the Kings, after all, and how much time had I spent researching what nefarious plans the Kings were hatching? Besides, I couldn’t help but worry that Zephyr wanted to keep tabs on my movements. I’m not a girl to be owned. Not in the daylight, anyway.
“I’ll have to think about it,” I hedged.
Zephyr furrowed his brow. Clearly, he was unaccustomed to being put off.
So I reached down and closed my hand around his balls. He gasped, then sighed appreciatively.
“In the meantime,” I breathed in his ear, “I don’t need to think about going another round.”
CHAPTER 4
BIBA
A week later, the campus was full. Sol arrived quietly after dinner two nights after my reunion with Zephyr and went straight to his room. Unlike the beach-toned young people who staggered in after months of partying, Sol looked exactly as he did at the end of last year. His olive skin was no darker, his flowing black coif no lighter.
“Sol of the house Stamos!” Zeph called from down the hallway that night.