Misadventures of a College Girl (Misadventures #9)(7)

I nod. “A theater major.”

He sighs. “Please at least tell me you’re eighteen. If you’re jail bait, I swear to God I’m going to sob into my pillow tonight.”

My clit is tingling. My skin is buzzing. I’ve never felt so physically attracted to another human being in all my life. “No sobbing necessary. I turned eighteen in July.”

Tyler wipes his brow comically. “Thank God.” His eyes sweep down my body and back up again. “I don’t typically go for freshman, but if ever there was a reason to break my cardinal rule, it’s you.”

I screw up my face. “Thank you?”

“It’s a compliment.”

“Why don’t you typically ‘go for freshman’?”

“Because, no offense, half the time it turns out they’re batshit crazy.”

I shoot him a snarky look.

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

“So let me get this straight. Batshit crazy freshman girls magically transform into perfectly sane ones at the start of their second year?”

He laughs. “Well, it sounds kind of stupid when you put it like that. I think what I’m trying to say is that some people, both guys and girls, need that first year of being away from home to get their batshit crazy out of their systems. Freshman girls in particular seem to have a harder time than anyone else grasping the concept that having a little fun with someone isn’t the same thing as finding a soulmate.”

I look at Clarissa, intending to flash her a look that says, Ding, ding, ding! We’ve found ourselves a cherry-popper, folks! But she’s engaged in a conversation with Dimitri. “Well, let me assure you,” I say to Tyler. “I’m not looking for my soulmate. And even if I were, which I’m not, I’m quite certain he wouldn’t be caught dead in a T-shirt that says God’s Gift to Womankind.”

Tyler chuckles. “Touché, little freshman.”

“How old are you, Tyler?” I ask.

“I just turned twenty-one.”

“Uh oh. I don’t normally go for guys under twenty-two. Batshit crazy, all of them.”

He grins.

“But I suppose if ever there was a reason to break my cardinal rule, it’d be you.”

Tyler bites his lower lip. “Lucky me.”

I smile coyly. “Very lucky you.” Holy shit! Who am I right now?

Tyler and I stare at each other for a long moment, the heat between us palpable. During the stillness between us, the song in the living room switches from a hip-hop thumper to a slow and sexy R&B groove.

Tyler doesn’t miss a beat. He leans right in to my ear. “Dance with me.”

Heat flashes onto my cheeks. I nod.

And that’s that. Tyler grabs my hand and leads me through the crowded kitchen like a medieval groom pulling his virgin bride to their marital bed. And just that fast, I can see my future in Tyler Caldwell’s delectable ass as he leads me toward the dance floor, as surely as if I were looking into a very muscular crystal ball. I’m going to lose my virginity tonight to God’s Gift to Womankind. And it’s going to be oh-so good.





Chapter Four





Once Tyler has found his preferred spot in the middle of the packed dance floor, he turns around, wraps his muscled arms loosely around me, and begins moving his insanely fit body to the slow and sensuous beat of the R&B groove. In reply, I slide my arms around Tyler’s neck and begin moving my body in synchronicity with his, letting my breasts brush lightly against his hard chest as I gyrate.

At my receptive body language, Tyler pulls me toward him, ever so slightly, apparently testing my boundaries. All righty, then. Time to make my lack of boundaries abundantly clear. I move closer to Tyler and brush my crotch lightly against his as I move to the beat of the music…and, almost instantaneously, I’m rewarded with the sensation of a hard-on rising up and nudging against my crotch. My breath hitches. My skin sizzles and pops. Delicious.

Tyler leans in to my ear. “You’re so hot,” he says, his breath warm against my skin.

My body explodes with excitement. “So are you.”

“I love the dress.”

“Thank you.”

But I’m not here to talk. I tighten my arms around his neck and grind my aching clit against his hard-on like a mewing cat on a scratching pole. It’s something I’ve been dreaming of doing with a hot guy for the better part of a year, and I’m not holding back. I must say, the reality of doing this far exceeds my fantasy of it. I grind harder, thinly disguising my movement as dancing, and Tyler responds in kind, thrusting his erection against my epicenter.

“Oh, Jesus,” I blurt, my body exploding into flames of desire.

Without hesitation, he lifts my thigh around his waist, a maneuver that opens my crotch to him like a blooming flower, and presses his hard-on against me with sniper-like precision.

I groan loudly at the incredible sensation, but, thank God, the embarrassing sound is swallowed by the loud music.

Tyler leans in to my ear. “Can I grab your ass?”

I nod.

Without hesitation, he cups my ass cheek in his large palm, pulling my body even more fiercely into his massive bulge. His lips brush my face and land on my ear. “I don’t want a relationship,” he breathes.