Chapter 1 #2
He glances around once. “You live with Ivy?”
“You know Ivy?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Everyone knows Ivy. She and Dustin are a power couple.”
“Right…” I say, seizing his hand again and tugging him down the hall to my bedroom.
The last thing I want to hear is my brother’s name followed by the notion that they’re the most adorable couple to be together on the face of this planet.
And the last thing I need is to be jealous of it while a hot guy is following me to my room.
We stumble a little along the way, and when I reach my room, I fling the door open and turn to face him again.
My hands slide around his trimmed waist, and our lips find each other’s again.
The kiss is just as desperate as when we were at the party, and we only part for him to fling his shirt off, revealing a set of abs that are so tight they look like speed bumps.
His abs give way to a V that disappears into the hem of his pants.
Eager to see what lies beneath, I flick the button of his jeans and he takes the hint, quickly discarding them and kicking them to the side.
I am not disappointed at what I see once his underwear is flung across the room. His cock is beautiful. Can cocks be beautiful? Hell yeah, they can.
Working at the zipper at the side of my dress, I growl in frustration. It’s stuck.
“Here,” he murmurs. He grabs hold of the dress on either side of the zipper and gives it a tug. The zipper breaks free. He unzips it the rest of the way, and the dress falls from my body and pools around my ankles.
Cold air licks at my stomach, but it’s quickly replaced by body warmth as he presses himself against me, reaches around, and unclasps my bra. My breasts spring free and jut against his chest, my nipples pebbled to tight peaks.
He groans as he feels them, cups either side of my face, and kisses me feverishly. Slowly, so as not to make me fall, he backs me up to the bed. The back of my knees hit the edge of the mattress, and we fall together on the soft and plush purple comforter, our lips still locked.
Together, we scoot back on the bed until my head is on the pillow and he’s nestled between my legs. His hips rock, and his cock presses against my clit. I groan into his mouth, and he groans back.
Oh god, I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is so unlike me. This is beyond the norm for Avery Moore. This—
His hand slides over my shoulder and to my breast where he cups it and then tweaks the nipple. I arch against him, stealing his air straight out of his mouth as I suck in a quick breath.
It’s been too long. Far too long.
When I’m a moaning mess beneath him, his hand slides down my body until it reaches my thigh. He hikes my knee over his hip and positions himself. Slowly, he slides inside. I feel every freaking inch and find myself arching into his chest again.
“Fuck,” he says into my mouth when he’s fully inside me.
His hand by my head curls into the pillow, and his mouth parts against my lips as he inhales sharply. Why is that so sexy? Why does that make me feel so powerful?
He may need time to adjust, but I sure as hell don’t.
I wiggle my pelvis, and he chuckles against me before moving his hips.
The strokes are slow at first like he wants to take his time to savor it.
But I really don’t give a shit because, immediately, he’s hitting a spot that, until now, only I have been able to find.
“Oh my god,” I breathe into him. I clench around him, and he curses again.
“Keep doing that and I won’t last.”
“Can’t help it.”
It happens again, and his lips part away from mine as he growls. He grabs my other thigh, hikes it around his other hip, and then puts both hands on either side of my head. And then he pulls out and slams into me.
We groan together, and his pace picks up significantly. It’s all I can do to hold onto his flexing biceps, feeling that heat coil in my lower abdomen as he quickly strokes my G-spot.
My breathing quickens, and soon - I’m just as surprised as the sex gods - I cum. It explodes out of me, and he rears back, squeezing my hips as he pounds into me.
“Fucking hell,” he growls out, his brow pinched in concentration. My hips meet him thrust for thrust as I ride out the waves of pleasure.
Once it subsides, I reach up and tweak my nipples, desperate for another orgasm. I close my eyes in pleasure, and he snaps, “Eyes on me, Sarah.”
Sarah? Who’s Sarah?
Oh, right. Me.
My eyes open and settle on his. I fall into the depths of his hazel eyes that I can see vibrantly even though it’s dark in my room. He holds my gaze as I start to spiral again.
I moan again and tweak my nipples harder, and when he says, “God, you’re beautiful,” I come undone. My pussy squeezes his cock, ripple after ripple, and with several cursed breaths, he pulls out.
Rearing to my elbows, I watch as he pumps himself, watching even closer as he comes all over my stomach. His shoulders are tense and his head is tipped back as he moans. And when he’s finished, his back slumps and he falls back to two hands on either side of my head, his cum cooling on my skin.
As soon as he catches his breath, I almost expect him to leave. That’s the normal thing to do, right? On a one-night stand? I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one.
Instead, he surprises me by kissing me. It’s such a soft kiss, and it does something to the weird butterflies in my stomach.
All too soon, he breaks away, getting off the bed, and my heart sinks. The butterflies explode in my stomach as I wait for him to leave without a word. I mean, what did I expect? We met twenty minutes ago. I don’t even know this guy’s name, even though that was by far the best sex I’ve ever had.
But I am drunk. He’s drunk. We don’t know each other. He has every right to leave.
He picks up his shirt and heads back to me. I frown. “What are you doing?”
His brows crease together. “Cleaning you up.”
“With your shirt?”
He starts to wipe away his cum. “I didn’t see a towel or tissues around.”
“Oh.” I glance around even though I know he’s right and it’s too late anyway. Cum is smeared all over his university shirt. “Right.”
He flings the shirt back onto his jeans.
“What are you going to wear out of here?”
“I’ll figure that out in the morning,” he murmurs as he climbs back onto my bed.
“What are…” I blink a few times, confused. “What are you doing?”
He flops down on the bed beside me and buries his head in the pillow. He’s still naked, and I get the perfect view of a perfectly sculpted ass. “Going to sleep.”
“Here?”
“Yes, here.”
“Um…” Is this okay? The last guy I slept with, like actually slept with in a bed, was the bastard, and that was months ago.
I’ve grown used to sleeping alone, but when this mystery guy closes his eyes, I decide I can’t deny him.
Where would he go? He’s too drunk to drive, and he can’t return to the party without a shirt.
I flop back onto my pillow, angle my body to grab the comforter from underneath me, and cover myself up. I stare at the ceiling for a moment, watching it spin just a little, before I ask, “What’s your name anyway?”
I get no answer, so I tip my head and look at him. His lips are parted, and his face is relaxed. He’s asleep. Who the hell falls asleep that fast?
Snorting, I twist to the side, and before I know it, I’m drifting off.