“What do you want?” I whispered against his mouth.
“You,” he groaned softly as I pressed down against him. “I want you to come to the party tonight at the frat and then come to my room with me. Please.”
“Why?”
“Just… I need you to put your hands all over me.”
“Tell me why.”
He inhaled deeply. “Because everywhere you’re touching right now, I can actually feel.”
I had no idea what that meant. “Have trouble feeling things, do you?”
“I do… yeah.”
I took his face in my hands, and I saw the trembling lower lip, the corded muscles in his neck, and the clenched jaw. “Talk to me.”
He took a quick breath, and I saw it: his public face, the cocky grin, the flirtatious curve of his lip, the arched eyebrow that drove the press wild. When he bent toward me, I stopped him.
“No.” I braced both hands on his chest and leaned back. “I don’t want this guy; I want the real one.”
But he was bigger, stronger, and his hands went to the backs of my thighs as he stood up in one fluid motion, turned, and shoved me against the mirror, both hands on my ass, pushing into the denim, kneading, holding tight as I somehow got my feet under me.
“Do you remember Riley Marsh’s party at the beginning of last year? It was huge. He rented out that whole mansion, the grounds… there was that dance floor, it was all lit up.”
I nodded. “I remember.”
“Did you see me?”
“No.”
“I saw you.”
All I could do was stare into his gorgeous eyes.
“You were dancing. You danced all night.”
“I’m sure I did.”
“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, and then I realized that it was more than that… I wanted to put my hands on you.”
“But you’re straight.”
“Which is why wanting you made no sense.”
Things were becoming clear. “So you wrestled with that for a while.”
“Yes.”
“And so you wanna do what? Fuck me? See if you like it? Get it out of your system?”
He groaned softly. “It sounds so bad when you say it like that.”
“But that’s what we’re talking about.”
It took a couple of minutes, but finally he confessed. “Yeah.”
At least he was honest. “Okay,” I agreed with a chuckle. “I’ll come to the party.”
“You will?”
I nodded. “I can bring my friends?”
“Yeah.”
“I want you to make sure they get in.”
He licked his lips. “I will. Whatever you want.”
I leaned in and he met me fast, our lips notching together like we’d been kissing for years instead of minutes, his tongue sliding over mine, rubbing, pushing, as his hands roamed freely under my sweater.
We would never get out of the fitting room.
“Vince, are you in here?”
I jolted and we pulled apart.
“What’s with you and the superstar?” Matt called out. “Are you back here?”
He was calling from far enough away that I had time.
Shoving the quarterback off me, I wiggled free, untangled myself, grabbed my beanie, then slipped under the fitting room divider to the one beside the one we were in, opened the door, and came out, smiling huge for Matt.
“There you are,” he said as he walked between two racks of jerseys. “Where the fuck did you go?”
“I freaked out there for a minute.”
“Why?”
“Well, last night I was a prick to a customer—you know how I get.”
“Yeah, I know. I remember you telling that one guy that reading was fundamental.” He shook his head. “You can be a real dick.”
“I just admitted that,” I groused at him.
“Fine, fine. Don’t get all snarly. Just tell me what you did.”
“I was a total douche to a customer, and it turns out the guy was actually—”
“Why do you look like you just got over running a marathon?”
“What?” I forced a laugh. “No, I wasn’t doing anything.”
“You looked flushed, and your lips are all swollen.” His face lit up. “Did you give some guy a blowjob back here?”
“Fuck no,” I said sharply, loudly, hoping I drowned out the throaty, achingly needy cry from the fitting room that had answered his question. Apparently Carson liked the idea of me blowing him quite a bit.
“Then what was—”
“The guy I fucked with last night was Carson Cress.”
His eyes got huge. “No.”
“Oh… yes,” I assured him.
“Are you kidding?”
“Why would I be kidding?” I snapped, grabbing hold of his bicep and tugging him after me, through and out of the store. In front of it, on the sidewalk, I swung him around to face me. “I was a total dick to Cress, but it turns out I saved his ass later by fixing the oversize printer at the other store.”
“Wait, what does this have to do with any—”
“So that’s why he was yelling at me, to say thank you.”
“Oh.” Matt nodded as the others rejoined us. “So he’s not pissed at you?”
“Who’s not pissed at you?” Tracie asked as she and Jeff rejoined us, both with waffle cones.