Misadventures of a College Girl (Misadventures #9)(8)

Boom. There it is. Exactly what Dimitri warned me was coming. “Neither do I,” I say into his ear. “Just…oh, God. Please don’t stop what you’re doing.”

Tyler’s lips leave my ear and brush gently against my cheek…and then make their way to my lips. His mouth skims mine softly. Briefly. And then again. Clearly, he’s asking for permission to kiss me. So I give it to him. I lean forward and brush my lips against his, making it clear I want him to go in for the kill. So he does. He opens my lips with his and slides his tongue into my mouth and, just like that, I’m a goner. Oh, God, it’s official. I want to have sex with this human.

We’re both on fire. Not even pretending to dance anymore. Kissing without inhibition. Dry-humping in the middle of the packed dance floor. Groaning into each other’s mouths while our hands furiously grope and grab. The pleasure I’m feeling is so intense, so shockingly sublime, I feel like I’m losing control of my limbs. I grind even more desperately into his hardness, kissing him furiously and quaking with arousal.

A faint fluttering announces itself between my legs, making me moan. I smash my body into Tyler’s and devour his lips even more fervently, grinding my crotch into his hard bulge like my life depends on it. Oh, God, I’m ramping up in ways I’ve never experienced before. Aroused and excited and swollen in a whole new, desperate way.

Someone behind me on the packed dance floor laughs sharply. And then I’m jostled on the shoulder. Another laugh. And just like that, the spell is broken. That warping I’m beginning to feel deep inside my core abruptly stops. I slide my thigh down and yank my crotch away from Tyler’s, suddenly ashamed of myself. I can’t believe I’ve been attacking this boy so brazenly in plain sight of everyone at this party. I can’t imagine what people must be thinking of me.

Tyler puts his palm on my cheek and his forehead against mine. “I want you,” he says simply.

I inhale his scent and my entire body melts into him. “I want you, too,” I reply honestly.

Tyler grins wickedly. “My bedroom’s upstairs.”

I nod. “Let’s go.”





Chapter Five





Tyler leads me up a staircase. My heart is racing. My crotch is throbbing. When we reach the middle of the stairs, a new song begins blaring from below in the living room. Pitbull’s “Come & Go”—a song about Pitbull’s self-proclaimed talent for bringing women to climax.

“Hey, they’re playing my song,” Tyler says playfully.

“God, I hope so,” I mutter. “Fingers crossed.”

“No need to cross a thing, pretty girl,” Tyler says. “Fingers, legs, or otherwise. I guarantee you’ll get off harder with me than ever before.”

I snort. “Well, if I get off once it’ll be…” I abruptly smash my lips together. What the fuckity am I doing? Now is not the time to nervously reveal your secrets, Zooey! But it’s too late. Tyler abruptly stops ascending the staircase, his body language making it clear he’s understood my meaning.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” he asks.

I release Tyler’s hand, feeling self-conscious, but remain silent.

“Don’t be embarrassed about it,” he says soothingly. “You’ve obviously been with nothing but idiots and selfish bastards.” He smiles, takes my hand, and begins leading me up the stairs again. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you cross the finish line quicker than Usain Bolt.”

Relief floods me. “Oh, thank you,” I say lamely, like he’s offered to change my flat tire.

“In fact, I’ll make sure you cross it more than once.”

I’m absolutely giddy. “Well, twice would be a nice bonus. But do it once and you’ll rock my world. I’ve been dying to finally know what it feels like.”

Tyler stops walking again. We’re now at the end of a hallway, standing outside a closed door. “Wait. You’ve never had an orgasm, ever? I thought you meant you haven’t had one with a guy.”

Crap. What the heck have I done? Not once when I’ve fantasized about finding a hot stranger to pop my cherry did I imagine myself having this conversation with him beforehand. Stupid, stupid, Zooey! “I haven’t had one at all,” I admit, my face bursting into flames.

“But…” All of a sudden, complete understanding visibly washes over Tyler’s handsome features. “You’re a virgin?”

There’s a burst of female laughter on the staircase behind us, followed by a low male voice.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else, please?” I snap.

Tyler grabs my hand and leads me through a nearby door. “You’re a virgin?” he repeats as he shuts the door behind us.

I smash my lips together, pissed at myself. I’ve always instinctively known revealing my virginal status before doing the deed with a stranger would lead to nothing good. Performance anxiety for the guy, perhaps? Or maybe my designated cherry-popper would turn out to be a virgin-fetishist who’d be a bit too excited to go where no man has gone before? I glance around the room, feeling like a trapped animal. My panicked eyes flicker across the posters on Tyler’s walls. Muhammad Ali. Usain Bolt. Some football player in a Broncos uniform. A poster of “The Four Greatest Michaels of All Time.”