Forbid Me Not

Chapter 1

AVERY MOORE

I bob my head as music blares from the speakers that my brother has set up throughout his two-bedroom campus apartment.

The bass pounds against my body, so much so that the contents of my drink are having a hard time staying inside the red solo cup.

Having been filled too full by my brother’s friend, Jacob, it’s splashing against the edge of my hand, and as drunk as I am, I lick it away like a cat sipping from a bowl of milk.

At this point, I really don’t give a crap how weird I look because lord knows that literally no one is paying attention to me. As a bigger girl, I’m unnoticeable like that.

I survey the crowded living room as I close my mouth around a particularly juicy drop on the side of my cup. Hell, maybe even the licking will turn some guy on and he’ll approach me and…

Gosh, it’s only been a few months, and I’ve turned into a hussy. I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

It doesn’t matter. There are far too many pretty girls here to flirt with. However, if one decided to give me the chance, I wouldn’t say no to a little “attention.”

Sucking my tongue back into my mouth, I frown. No, Avery. No having sex with a stranger. That’s unlike you. You’re a strong, confident woman.

Ugh, but I’m positive my vibrator is losing steam despite the new batteries I put in a week ago.

I glare at the drink because glaring at my greedy pussy would probably be more frowned upon than the licking of my own hand. “This is your fault,” I slur to the drink and then quickly take a sip.

Someone loaded the jungle juice with a heavy hand, but I’m long past tasting and cringing at the amount of alcohol anymore. It tastes delicious.

I’ve been standing alone for…what…five minutes? Or has it been longer? Hell if I know. I have no idea where I set my phone so I can check for the time, and in this tight dress, there are no pockets. I don’t even know where my heels are.

My best friend Ivy was standing next to me. But when she’s drunk, she has the attention span of a fly and often disappears, the social butterfly that she is.

I didn’t want to come to this party, but my brother begged me.

He threw it for me so that he could introduce me, his sister and newbie to the college, to his friends, most particularly his best friend, whom I still haven’t met.

And though I haven’t met all of them in this room, a great number came to introduce themselves in the beginning.

You know, before all the alcohol. A few couldn’t stop staring at my chest, and at the time, I cared.

Big girl boobs and all that. But now? I definitely don’t.

Come stare at my breasts, boys! I really need to get laid.

No, I don’t.

Yes, I do.

Crap.

But, as the popular guy’s sister, I might as well have a paper bag over my face that says “Off limits” anyway because, though they looked at my boobs, they kept the conversation strictly friendly.

In a desperate attempt to not seem like a loser standing by herself, I look around to find Ivy so that she can talk me out of dry humping the nearest male, but when I spot her, she’s on the couch with her lips locked to my brother’s.

My shoulders slump. Well, isn’t that just great?

Maybe I can pull her away. My brother gets her all the time, and I’m in serious need of a talking to right now.

As I make my way over to the couch to do just that, the music changes.

Whipping around, I gasp while wobbling unsteadily to the side.

The press of bodies steadies me as my favorite song starts blaring.

Young Blood pours into my soul, and immediately, I start dancing.

It’s far too crowded in the living room, however, so to get some space, I climb onto the coffee table and do a little twirl before rocking my hips.

A few hoots and hollers come my way, making me grin as I continue to shake my body to the tune.

I’m not normally this brazen. I swear.

“Get it, Avery!” someone shouts.

I raise my hands in the air and sway them, briefly wondering what the hell I did with my drink.

As I do a spin, my foot slides off the table, and my eyes widen as I start to fall off the surface. It feels like slow motion as I fall, and I know, without a doubt, that it’s going to be painful come morning.

Strong arms wrap around my waist before I can plummet to my death, holding on tight.

Taking a few gasping breaths, I say thank you before looking up into the eyes of my savior.

And the words die from my lips because staring back at me are the most gorgeous hazel eyes I’ve ever seen.

There are flecks of gold in them, and around the outside of the iris is a rim of chocolate brown.

I don’t know how long I stare at him because, again, time moves differently when you’re wasted, but eventually, his full, red lips curve into a smile that accentuates a perfect jawline and the most beautiful nose I’ve ever seen. Can noses be beautiful? Heck yeah, they can.

“Are you okay?” he asks as the music switches to a new song. My cheeks immediately combust in flames. I definitely stared too long, and I probably looked like an idiot while doing so.

I wasn’t introduced to this guy. I would have remembered. Definitely. No one forgets a face like that. And his smell…he smells like he dips himself in pheromones with a mix of body wash.

Slowly, he rights me, and burning with embarrassment, I turn to face him, taking him all in.

He’s wearing this year’s Smithson University T-shirt, which clings to his body, revealing the tight and corded muscles in his arms and chest. He’s taller than me, forcing me to look up to take in his hair.

It’s dark and styled messily, and if it doesn’t make me swoon…

Remembering that he asked me a question, I tuck my curled, brown hair behind my ear and nod while glancing down at my bare feet. I curl my toes into the carpet as I answer, “Yes. Um. Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“What’s your name?” he calls over the music.

I flick my gaze back to him. He’s studying my face, lingering on my rosy cheeks and my bottom lip tucked between my teeth. God, he has to know what kind of effect he has on me. And I don’t know what possesses me, but I decide to lie about who I am. “Sarah,” I answer.

Seriously. What is wrong with me? But it’s too late to take it back.

Maybe I did it on purpose. Maybe I don’t want to be known as the popular guy’s sister. All the other guys seem to think I’m off limits, and I really don’t want this guy to.

I’m too drunk to ponder on it long, however, because a grin spreads across his face, revealing straight, white teeth.

He’s far too beautiful for his own good, and I think he knows it.

“Do you go to school here, or do you know someone and got invited?”

“Uh.” I glance around. “Both?”

“Is that a question?” he asks, bending closer to my ear because, I swear, the music just amped up in volume.

“Um.”

His lips press closer to my ear, his breath feathering my earlobe. “I’m just teasing you, Sarah.”

A shiver overcomes my body, and he chuckles.

At that moment, someone bumps into my back, forcing me forward and into his chest. He catches me before I nearly tip sideways, his hands going to my curvy waist. If I wasn’t drunk, I’d be self-conscious about being touched there.

Me and my weight have some issues that I’ll probably never work out.

Instead of stiffening in his embrace, I sort of, um, melt against him, hands on his chest, head tucked under his chin. God, what am I doing?

My heart beats rapidly as his hands slide higher. I tip my head back to peer at his face, and he looks down at me as I whisper, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs back, eyes searching mine.

Something passes between us. A silent, drunken conversation that I’ve literally never had before but, I swear to God, it’s the best feeling in the world.

It kicks up the long-dead butterflies in my stomach, and before I know what I’m doing, I lift myself on my toes and press my lips to his perfect ones.

I expect him to endure it for a moment. I expect him to gently peel me off of him because, let’s face it, there are far more skinnier and good-looking girls here besides me.

But he doesn’t. He…he kisses me back. My heartbeat sores into my ears, and the party fades away as we stand there, lips locked, hands beginning to roam each other’s backs.

His lips slide over mine, and when his hand reaches up and cups my jaw, I moan into his mouth. It’s a simple gesture, but I’ve never been kissed this way. Not by the bastard, and not by anyone before him.

He chuckles against my mouth, and it’s honestly the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. And then his tongue is teasing my bottom lip, and I open up for him. Our tongues dive into each other’s mouths and holy shit. Despite the taste of jungle juice, he tastes just as good as he smells.

I grip the back of his shirt, leaning into the kiss. My lips and tongue move faster of their own accord, but he doesn’t mind. He responds in kind, his other hand exploring my backside.

When I’m out of breath, I break the kiss. And boldly—because alcohol makes me strong—I ask, “Want to get out of here?”

My pussy literally clenches as I wait for his answer.

I don’t have to wait long before he nods. But then, he says with a frown, “I don’t live anywhere near here, and my friend would kill me if I drove right now.”

Grinning, I grab his hand. “I live right across the hall.” It’s like it was meant to be.

He glances around once—for what, I don’t know, but I don’t wait to find out.

By the hand, I drag him across the living room, moving between the people, and into the kitchen where the apartment door is.

Someone opens it to enter the party with a case of beer in their hands, and as soon as they’re through, I exit with…

what’s his name? I don’t think I caught it.

It doesn’t matter.

We stride across the hall and to Ivy’s and my apartment. I open it immediately and tug him inside.