Pulse (Collide, #2)

“How so, cuz?” Craig asked, pausing before bringing his beer bottle to his lips.

Blaine looked away from Craig to meet my eyes again, however, his gaze was different this time. Less playful and curious, and more… intense. Almost lustful. It held me on my barstool and refused to let me look away or even blink. It burned right into me, marking me in an uncanny way. His expression both disturbed and aroused me, and I couldn’t decide which I was more upset about.

“Well, first off,” he finally said, “she isn’t mulatto or even Hispanic. Look at her eyes…perfectly slanted and sexy. Soulful. And her hair… so dark and thick, slightly curled. Hair that beckons you to run your fingers through it from root to tip. Maybe even pull a little,” he smiled crookedly. “And then there’s the shape of her lips…how they dip and curve into a full pout. Lips that you can’t resist staring at for hours. Lips that beg to be kissed.”

Blaine chewed his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes, as they continued to scan every part of me that he had just so eloquently described. I was nearly dizzy from the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

“Asian. You’re part Asian, right?” he asked simply, no trace of seduction in his voice. His eyes no longer smoldered or emitted the fiery passion he had displayed just seconds before.

The switch in gears nearly made me fall flat on my face. Luckily, my roommate/girlfriend/savior strolled in and successfully diverted the attention from me. Every eye turned to witness the grand arrival of Angel Cassidy, dressed in too short cut-offs, a red tank that was suggestively torn and cut to reveal her plump breasts and lace-up black platform heels. She was the quintessential blonde bombshell that filled every guy’s fantasies. With her heart-shaped cherry lips, milky white skin and curves for days, she easily resembled a younger, edgier Marilyn Monroe.

I masked the disappointment of losing Blaine’s attention and gave Angel a wink. She strutted over to me, a hand on her hip, and gave me a wicked smile. She clutched the back of my head, tangled her fingers in my dark brown hair, and crushed her glossed lips to mine. A moan rumbled her chest as I pulled her body into mine.

It was the kiss heard ‘round the world. Well, ‘round the bar, anyway.

Other than a few audible gasps at seeing Angel’s pink tongue dart out of her mouth, Dive was completely silent as she flicked my upper lip before pulling away. The two guys before us each wore amused grins that screamed of lustful possibilities.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Craig exclaimed, breaking the deafening silence and smacking Blaine’s chest with the back of his hand. “Lesbians! Now that explains it!”

“How are you, baby?” Angel cooed, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear while gazing at me adoringly.

I matched her soft smile and placed my hands on her narrow waist. “Better now that you’re here.”

“Wow! Can you believe this, B?” Craig still rambled excitedly.

I turned back around on my barstool to assess Blaine’s reaction, which was unreadable if not indifferent. Good. Better for him, and everyone else, to see that there’s no chance with me. Not that I thought he was thinking that.

“Can I ask you ladies a question?” Craig chimed in. For once since meeting him twenty minutes before, I was glad for his intrusion. I had to stop looking at Blaine. I had to stop giving him the impression that I was interested. Because I wasn’t. I couldn’t be.

“Sure!” Angel piped up, sliding her arm around my shoulders and leaning into me.

Craig took a hefty gulp of beer and cleared his throat before leaning closer. “Ok. I know you gals are gay, and all, but lez-be-honest…you gotta miss that full, thrusting feeling,” he snickered in a mock whisper.

“CJ, dude!” Blaine scoffed, smacking him upside the head.

“Ever been with a guy?” Craig continued, ignoring Blaine’s pleas to knock it off. “Because I’d love to be the meat in your sandwich.”

With that, Angel and I rolled our eyes before making our way to an empty table. Blaine was still scolding Craig for his comments, and I honestly had to refrain from laughing. Craig was certainly an asshat, but I had to give it to him-he was a funny asshat.

“So what happened?” Angel asked once we were settled.

I shrugged and looked down at the table, digging my fingernail into a nick in the tabletop. “Same thing that always happens. I hurt him, he cried, then I came here.”

“He cried?” Angel grasped my hand, her sparkly black fingernails a drastic contrast to her pale complexion. “You wanna talk about it, babe?”

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