Chapter Three Sienna
Chapter Three
Sienna
Gavin keeps the kiss simple at first. Almost as if he’s testing me, and then I feel his tongue swipe at the seam of my lips, and that’s all it takes.
My lips part. Our tongues meet. The kiss turns hot in an instant, his hands sliding down until they’re covering my ass and he’s pulling me in closer. Letting me feel him as he devours me. He’s hard. And like the shameless drunk girl I am, I waste no time, grinding against him.
Making him groan.
The sound settles into the deepest part of my body, making me throb between my thighs. His hungry mouth never strays from mine, our tongues tangling, his hands squeezing my flesh. I mentally curse at myself for wearing denim shorts because if I had a dress on, I’d feel those hands on my bare flesh, and a shiver moves through me at the thought.
But then he makes all my wishes come true when his hands slide down, his fingers tracing over the curve of my ass cheeks, and a whimper sounds low in my throat.
“Jesus,” he mutters against my lips as I basically hump him. That’s all he says before he deepens the kiss, which I didn’t think was possible, but oh my God, the man is good with his mouth. Oh, and his hands, which isn’t a surprise, considering how well he plays football.
I straddle him, my thighs on either side of his hips, my pussy directly against that thick bulge beneath his jeans. He is as hard as a rock, and a tiny thrill buzzes through my veins. That’s because of me. I did that to him.
Little ol’ me.
He pulls away from my still-seeking lips to kiss a burning trail down my neck. “You smell fucking incredible.”
My entire body aches. God, I want him. I want to take his clothes off and feel his skin on mine. I want to touch him everywhere I can reach, and I would give anything, everything I’ve got, to see this man naked. Have him naked beneath me.
He removes one of his hands from my butt, and I’m sad. But then he cups the side of my face, his fingers sliding into my hair as he angles my head just so, his mouth back on mine, and I am melting. Oh, I love it when a man touches my face, not that any ever have before. Not even my high school boyfriend. I’ve seen it in movies, though, and it’s the most romantic gesture ever.
We kiss and kiss, and I try to touch him everywhere I can, but my reach is limited. I can’t get enough of him. And it’s like he can’t get enough of me, either, those fingers of his slipping beneath my denim shorts to skim across my flesh, dipping lower until they’re dangerously close to where I want them.
And when they brush against my pussy, dipping into my creamy flesh, a shudder racks my body. I could come if he keeps this up. I’m already primed, completely on edge, and when his fingers slide deeper, I end our kiss, desperate to catch my breath.
“So fucking wet,” he murmurs as he begins to stroke me, and I can’t speak. A strangled sound leaves me, and I return my mouth to his, never wanting this moment to end.
Who knew it could be like this? I think of my ex-boyfriend and all the things we did together, but none of those moments compare to this.
He fucks me with his fingers, and I move with them, unsure how he’s managing this thanks to the barrier that is my denim shorts, but I can’t worry about logistics. I lift my hips, his fingers streaking over my clit, and I moan into his mouth, my orgasm getting closer—
“Oh my God! You should’ve left a scrunchie on the door to let me know you had a guy in here!” Destiny screams the moment she opens the door.
I leap off Gavin so fast my head is spinning. Destiny slams the door shut, and I can hear her footsteps as she scurries away. Swallowing hard, I turn to look at my bed, taking a mental picture so I can store this memory away forever.
Gavin lying across the bed, filling every inch of space. There’s a tent in the front of his black shorts, and his T-shirt is shoved up, revealing his six-pack abs. Did I do that? I must’ve.
He looks like he’s in shock. Unable to move or even speak. Slowly he lifts himself up on his elbows, staring at me for a moment before he finally says something.
“Your roommate?” The quiet rumble of his voice settles in a low throb between my legs, and I can’t even believe I had him beneath me only moments ago. That I had been on the verge of coming thanks to his magical fingers.
Stupid Destiny. Her timing is for shit.
“Yeah.” I nod, brushing my hair away from my face. I’m fairly certain he had his hands in it at one point, or am I just imagining that?
He tugs his T-shirt down and hauls himself off my pitiful bed, and that’s it. The spell is broken. The mood ruined. Pretty sure I had my hand beneath his shirt right before Destiny opened the door. The distinct, smooth texture of his abdomen still burns my fingertips, and the regret that is currently flooding my bloodstream is overwhelming.
I am painfully sober, watching as he makes his way to the door. I’m also painfully quiet. What do I say? Please don’t leave? Come back to my bed so we can continue what we were doing? He might laugh. He might regret it. Maybe he didn’t mean for it to happen or, worse, he kissed me and had his fingers between my legs because he somehow felt sorry for me.
Oh, that is the worst thought of them all.
“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle, and when I dare to look into his eyes, I see the sympathy there. He feels bad about ... something. Maybe all of it?
“Yeah.” I nod, wishing he would at the very least hug me and reassure me that everything is going to be okay.
But he does none of that. Instead, he says, “See you around,” and walks out of my room.