Page 94 of Let the Light Shine Through

Contrary to what I told Roz earlier, the ride isn’t over. Not yet.

“Kori.”

Roz’s tongue runs across his top teeth, then with every single muscle below his neck taut as a bow, he moves for her. Kori’s got a dopey smile plastered to her face, but I can’t even blame her. Roz kisses better than he used to snowboard.

Eight gold medals. Eight.

The second his lips touch hers, I commit the image to memory, collecting it for the moments when I’m weak because I know they’ll come. They’re already here now.

It’s over as quick as it started though, then Roz is speaking in the next breath, saying, “I once landed an 1800-degree quad cork, I knocked my front four teeth out on a bunny hill, I haven’t washed my truck in two months.”

Unable to stop myself, I unclench my teeth from around my thumb ring to murmur, “Bunny hill.”

“No shit? Only like four people have ever landed that jump,” shirt guy, or maybe knee guy, says. I lost track. I lost track when I gave up pretending anything about them was collectible—right about the same time Roz showed back up.

Never away for long.

Roz’s eyes on mine, I watch as they abandon their normal color of gold and light to umber and murky in a flash and, almost like he’s handing out punishment, he announces, “Kori,” completely ignoring everyone else.

“Damn, Kori. You’re having all the fun tonight.”

Except, she isn’t. She didn’t fuck Roz and he sure as hell didn’t fuck her. There was zero familiarity in their kiss. Zero chemistry. Zero emotions.

Watching Roz the entire time, I make my way over to Kori again, kneeling on the bench her feet are on to pull her into the water by the backs of her knees, so she’s straddling my lap. With my hands cupping her jaw, I pull her to me, licking her soft lips once before opening them to slip inside.

Roz’s appearance gives nothing away to the naked eye, but I know better. I know him better. His fists tightening shows he’s struggling to keep it together right now. While every other guy at his house party was happy to fetishize two women together, Roz didn’t offer so much as a single fuck when my friend and I were dancing, just like he doesn’t actually give a fuck that Kori and I are kissing. He does care that I’m kissing Kori though, and because he can’t kiss me himself, he’s using her as both a conduit and a punishment.

Massaging Kori’s overactive tongue with mine, I’m able to tame it into submission until our mouths are kneading each other’s rather than the all-out wrestling match from before. She’s sweet like cherry soda and makes my lips fizzy.

Or maybe that’s the bubbles bursting all around us.

Never once breaking eye contact with Roz, I keep up the pace until Kori starts rolling her hips atop my thighs. I’ll kiss her, but I’m not about to give the girl her first orgasm of the night. I’ll leave that to…someone else.

Staying where I am, I break the kiss to say, “I prefer graveyards over hospitals, I’ve never had sex with the same person twice, my prom date had three balls.”

Rowdy protests from somewhere outside the hot tub, saying, “I don’t have three balls,” a second before Roz says, “Prom.”

I don’t even hide my grin when I say, “Kori.”

Still standing half out of the water, Roz leans down before taking Kori’s mouth in a kiss that has a lot more emotion than the first one. My premature smile falls clean off when he does the exact thing I just did—continues kissing Kori while watching me.

Shit. Talk about the perfect combination of pain and pleasure.

My own hips start to buck under Kori’s, and I have to fight to keep my eyes open and on Roz’s. If I just pretend…

Roz’s teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, drawing it out from the rest of her mouth, causing me to moan out loud, but when Kori’s fingers dig into my upper arms, tempting me like a siren coaxing a sailor to their demise, my control starts to splinter off in different directions.

Dilated eyes locked on mine, Roz groans, too, gathering all my resolve back into one direction—his—and I thread my hands through Kori’s hair, pushing her further into him, pretending it’s my lips he’s devouring, not hers. Round after round, Roz goes in for more, never backing down, never looking away until I’m breathing so heavy, I don’t even notice another hand joining the mix, grabbing the back of my neck to turn my head.

A second hand—I’m not even sure whose—guides my cheek the rest of the way until my face is over my shoulder.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Roz tear his mouth from Kori’s, but then my lips are brushing someone else’s.

“Get the fuck off her.”

The lips on mine disappear as Roz shoves both guys backward, making them fall into the water with two huge splashes.

“Why?” I press, and he blinks at me like he’s speaking in Morse code. I don’t read Morse code though. It’s outdated and I’m drunk. Or…I was. I was drunk on something, but now I’m just drunk on someone.