Chapter 9
ZEB
An hour later, the party was in full swing. The keg was out back, someone had turned on the tunes and people were wall to wall in the house. The entire football team was here to celebrate along with a large group of friends and fans.
We had parties often, our place known as the football house. We locked our bedroom doors upstairs–the four of us learned the hard way early on that people got into your shit, or did shit on your bed if they had access–and had the front and back doors open.
Cammie’s roommate and friends from the game showed up a little while ago and were… somewhere. I hadn’t seen them since they went to get beers.
We were in the kitchen with three guys from the team.
I had Cammie tucked against my side, very content to not let her out of my sight.
Hell, out of my hold for the entire night.
I could tell this wasn’t her scene. Besides her friends, she didn’t seem to know anyone.
I’d brought her a beer, which she’d held but hadn’t taken a sip of.
When she admitted she didn’t like beer, I swapped it for one of the bottles of something red and fruity that had been stuck in the fridge.
She’d said she liked it, but hadn’t had more than a quarter of the bottle.
I was totally fine with that because all I could think about was getting this house empty and Cammie to myself again so I could really make her mine. Earlier had been a taste. Literally. She’d tasted so fucking good. Sweet. Sticky. And she’d been so fucking wet.
Shit. I couldn’t think about eating her out again in a roomful of my teammates and friends.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” she said, going up on her toes and whispering it in my ear.
I turned, looked down at her. “You want me to go with you?”
She frowned behind her glasses. “To the bathroom?”
“Lotta people here.”
She glanced around, not seeing a fun way to let loose and celebrate, but probably noise and annoying strangers who were getting drunker by the minute. “I’m good.”
“Use the one upstairs,” I directed.
She nodded and slipped out. I watched her go around the corner.
“Dude, what’s up with the nerdy chick?”
I gave Bruf, short for Bruffisberger, a glare. “She’s mine.”
His eyes widened as he processed that. Nodded. “Cool.”
Yeah, cool. Except I couldn’t make her officially mine until this party was over. I couldn’t leave. I was the captain. The quarterback. I had an entire football team cockblocking me.