27. Brodie
“If we don’t wake her up, she will be late for class.”
“How do you know she has a class? I have no idea what her schedule is.” There’s a pause. “Do you know my schedule, too?”
“Uh, yeah—obviously.”
At the sound of female voices, I crack my eyes open and immediately become aware of two things:
Lizzy is dragged on my chest, arm draped over my body.
We’re still not wearing shirts.
We must have fallen asleep at some point in the evening during our heated discussion about her rodent problem, the lights still on, the television off, the squirrel still in the confines of the wall.
I turn my head.
The door is ajar and Jill and Bethany stand in the crack, peeking through, cautiously not daring to enter but clearly struggling with whether or not to wake up their roommate. Or interrupt. Or barge in.
“Hey,” I greet them. Put my hand on Lizzy’s back and rub it to stir her, not wanting to jostle her or move an inch. “Lizzy.”
“God his voice is sexy,”I hear one of the girls whispering in the hall as if I wouldn’t be able to hear their chatter.
“I know, dude. It makes my vagina tingle.”
“Do you think they boned?”
“No—they’re both wearing clothes.”
They carry on for several more moments before one of them lightly knocks. Pushing on the door a bit so she can stick her head through, she whispers, “Hey sleepyheads, wakey wakey,” then comes to stand beside the bed.
Jill stares down at her sleeping roommate, and I can’t decide if she’s actually staring at me or trying to wake Lizzy up via mental telepathy, but she’s not trying very hard to do it.
“I’m getting her up. I just don’t wanna startle her.”
“Don’t want to star….” Jill groans as if I’ve said the dumbest crap she’s ever head. Reaching over, she gives Lizzy a shake. “Wake up, asshole, you have class in a half hour.”
“She can thank me later. She gets participation points for showing up.”
I have classes like that. There aren’t many exams or assignments, so attendance counts as a large percentage of the grade.
Lizzy stirs after another nudge from Jill, and I feel like a prisoner trapped beneath her body. Her roommates are hovering, and I crane my neck to see if there’s a lock on the door. Did she lock it last night, or was I imagining it?
“What time is it?” she mutters, lifting her mouth from my chest, our faces inches apart. It takes a few for her to focus on my face, recognition and realization setting in one slow second at a time.
“Morning.”
She smiles, drowsy and adorable like. “Hi.”
“Um hello—get moving, girl.” Jill tosses Lizzy’s discarded sweatshirt on the bed before exiting the room with a backward glance. “Text us later!”
“Yes, text us!” Bethany parrots, hovering in the doorway.
Then the house goes quiet.
Lizzy is still on top of me, hands beginning a slow roam of my chest, palms wandering over my skin as if she were going to begin exploring. It would be awesome if she did…
My morning wood gets harder; surely she can feel it pressed against her stomach or crotch or whatever body part is pressed against my dick.
Do I have to pee?
Naw.
I’ll live.
“Are they gone?” Lizzy mutters in a sleepy voice.
“Sounds like it.”
“I don’t want to get up. I want to snuggle.”
Works for me. I have no place to be until eleven. Actually, what time is it? Does it matter? Would I leave even if I had to be somewhere?
No.
I wouldn’t.
“I should get off. I don’t want to crush you.”
“I could lift you with one hand tied behind my back,” I boast, and when she giggles, I know she doesn’t believe me.
Her hand goes to my bicep, and she caresses it. Cuffs it. Gives it a squeeze as if testing its strength.
“So strong.”
Strong enough to roll her over in one motion and get between her legs, which is exactly what I do. One last parting gift before we both have to leave for class.
She gasps, delighted.
She watches when I move over the mattress, her hands now on my shoulders as I settle myself between her legs. Her fingers work their way into my hair, tugging.
“Best alarm clock ever,” she breathes, wiggling her hips when my thumbs hook her sleep shorts and pull down—taking her thong underwear along with them. In one motion, she’s naked and eagerly spreading her legs so I can make myself at home.
I don’t hesitate.
We’re on a time crunch, and I love beating my personal best as much as the next guy, and I love a challenge.
Lizzy’s skin is warm against my palms, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She arches her back slightly. Heat radiates from her, igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume every rational thought.
I’ll never make it through the day without thinking of this moment…
There is no fucking way.
Her scent fills my senses. It’s a heady mixture of arousal and desire that wakes me up as if I’ve just chugged a triple espresso but also makes me drowsy at the same time.
Drunk.
I lean forward, lips brushing against the inside of her thigh, eliciting a soft moan from her parted lips. I want to savor every moment, every touch, every sound.
Trailing kisses along her inner thigh I watch her reaction knowing that in a short time pleasure will be rippling through her body because of my featherlight touches. My fingers might be calloused and rough, but when I drag them over her skin, she likes it.
“Time to wake up, Lizzy,” I murmur as my fingers trace patterns against her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
When I finally reach my destination, I pause, savoring the anticipation that hangs heavy in the air. She’s breathing hard; I’m breathing hard.
I meet her gaze, and the desire burning in her eyes matches my own.
Without a word, I lower my head, tongue tracing a slow, torturous path along her folds.
Her hips buck against my touch—so sensitive…
…a low groan escaping her lips as she threads her fingers through my hair. I lose myself in the taste of her, the sweetest fucking thing I’ve eaten for breakfast in my entire life. The feel of her beneath my tongue drives me wild, dick pulsing through my sleep bottoms.
I want to consume her.
I want to make her mine, but I know that isn’t happening.
Even knowing she has class, I take my time, exploring every inch of her with a reverence that borders on worship.
Lap her up, licking and sucking, then sucking her some more.
Harder.
Soft.
She’s wet and dripping on my tongue.
I revel in the way her body responds to my touch, every gasp and whimper driving me closer to the edge of control. Shit, what if I come? What if I can’t fucking take it and spouge all over the place without being inside her?
As I feel her trembling on the edge and listen to her whimpering, I increase the pressure of my tongue, driving her ever closer to the precipice. She whines.
Moans.
Her hands grip my shoulder, her nails digging into my scalp as she tumbles over the edge. Her cries of pleasure are loud and laced with her eagerness to climax.
I continue to worship her, driving her to the brink until she’s spent and sated beneath me.
I kiss her pussy one last time before pulling back and going to my knees so I can look down at her. Sated. Satisfied.
My dick?
Is throbbing.