The Mistake (Off-Campus #2)(72)

“Fuck. Yes. I’m more than okay.”

“Question,” she says, and now I’m smiling too, because I love it when she does that. Announces she’s about to ask a question instead of just asking it.

I answer with my standard, “Hit me.”

“How do you feel about your ass?”

My brow furrows. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, if I do this—” Her finger slides over a spot I was not expecting her to touch “—are you going to freak out, or go with it?”

She does it again, and I’m stunned when a shock of pleasure skates up my spine. “Go with it,” I croak. “Definitely go with it.”

Grace’s eyes flicker with equal parts surprise and intrigue. Then she lowers her head and sucks me deep in her mouth, another unexpected move that blurs my vision. Sweet Jesus. I’m completely surrounded by tight, wet heat. My blunt head pokes the back of her throat, and my hips move before I can stop them, retreating an inch, two, before sliding back in.

Her moan reverberates around me. Her finger continues to torment me. Gentle and exploratory, coaxing a strange ache of pleasure I hadn’t bargained for.

Jesus, this is fucking intense. And it doesn’t stop. She tortures me with her tongue, licking my shaft, slowly, thoroughly, like she’s a goddamn cartographer who’s planning to map it out later. And that finger. Rubbing, teasing.

My balls tighten, my throat so dry I can barely get a word out. But I manage two. “I’m close.” Then two more. “Really close.”

The last time she did this, she didn’t stay with me until the end. This time, she clamps her lips around me, her long hair tickling my thighs as her head moves over me. Release is imminent. Pulsing in my blood. But still out of reach, a taunting throb of tension that makes me groan with impatience. I want it. I need it. I—she slips her finger inside, and holy shit, I ain’t gonna lie. It feels so fucking good. She gives my dick a long, hard suck, pushes her finger deeper, and I go off like a grenade.

I gasp for air, my hips shooting off the bed as I come to the sounds of her moans and my ragged pants. Her throat works as she swallows, each tiny contraction milking more pleasure from my body until I’m nothing but a heaving, mindless mess on the bed.

Grace crawls up and nestles beside me, placing her hand on my stomach, a small, warm anchor that keeps me from floating away.

“That was…” I suck in a breath. “Phenomenal.”

Her laughter warms the crook of my neck. “I’ll make a note of that. Ass shenanigans, phenomenal. Regular shenanigans…what did you call it last time? Just amazing, I think.”

“Everything you do to me is both amazing and phenomenal,” I correct, threading my fingers through her hair. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so content in my life. “Hey. Question.”

“Hit me.”

I grin at the role reversal, then say, “My first pre-season game is tomorrow night. I know you don’t like hockey, but…will you come?”

“Aw, I would if I could,” she answers, sounding genuinely regretful. “But I’m meeting up with this guy from my psych class.”

I shift to my side and narrow my eyes at her. Something strange and unfamiliar slinks through me.

I’m startled to realize it’s jealousy.

“What guy?”

She snickers. “Down, boy. He’s just a classmate. We’re paired up on an assignment together, this case study thing. I’m going to be seeing him a whole bunch the next couple of weeks.”

“A whole bunch, huh?” I pause. “Is he good-looking?”

“He’s all right, I guess. Really skinny, but some girls are into that.”

Some girls? Or one in particular?

When she notices my expression, she laughs even harder. “Ha. Who’s jealous now?”

“Not me,” I lie.

“You totally are.” She inches closer and plants a loud kiss on my lips. “Don’t be. I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“Damn right you do.”

Fuck, now I know how she felt at the party the other night. The possessive clench in my chest is…new. I don’t like it, but I can’t stop it, either. I’ve been playing the field since I started at Briar, but there were a few hook-ups that lasted more than one night. Girls I saw on and off, not seriously, but often enough to develop some feelings for them. None of those arrangements were exclusive, though. I was well aware that they were seeing other guys, too. And I didn’t care.

This time I do care. The idea of Grace with another guy is unacceptable. I won’t go as far as to say she’s mine, but…well, she’s mine. Mine to hold and mine to kiss and mine to laugh with.

Yup, mine.

“What time is it?” she asks. “I’m too lazy to lift my head.”

I crane my neck to get a better look at the alarm clock. “Ten thirty-two.”

“Should we finish watching the movie?”

“Sure.” I lean over to grab the laptop, which chimes loudly the moment I pick it up. “Uh…someone’s Skyping you, I think.”

She peeks at the screen, then shoots up in a panic. “Oh no. Put your pants on!”

I wrinkle my forehead. “Why?”

“Because that’s my mother!”