Holding On To Heaven (Allendale Four 2)

“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my voice down. The hallway was quiet and I didn’t really want to alert the residents that I was out here. “Any chance I can crash here tonight?”

Oliver rubbed his face and then head, eyes blinking in the bright hallway light. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Amber and Ginger are just…busy…”

He raised his eyebrows in understanding. “Gotcha. Sure, come on in. Jax is asleep.”

It was after midnight and I’d just come from a bio study group with Anderson and a few other classmates. I heard the moans before I opened the door and had no interest in interrupting my roommate and her girlfriend. Anderson had an early practice and I didn’t like doing the walk of shame to or from Hayden’s frat. Oliver and Jackson’s dorm was easier to get in and out of.

Sometimes it was nice to have a couple options.

He widened the door and I entered their small room. I’m hit with the mixture of soap, musky boy, and lingering sweat from all their workouts. Two single beds—one on each side. Oliver’s had a reading lamp attached to the headboard. Jackson laid flat on his back, book splayed on his chest. I smiled and turned to Oliver, fighting a laugh.

“He looks so cute,” I whisper, hanging my bag on his desk chair.

His arm wrapped around my waist. “You look cute.”

I kicked off my shoes and shrugged out of my jeans, leaving them on the floor. Oliver got back in bed, pushing his back against the wall, making room for me in the tight space. He’s an excellent spooner, something I’ve known since the beginning of our relationship.

He pulled me to his chest, my butt nestled between his hips. I felt the size of him. The growth and the tremble of want stirred in my belly. He pushed aside my hair and peppered my neck with warm, soft kisses, and I twisted around and whispered, “Stop. We can’t do this with Jax over there.”

“He’s asleep,” he mutters. “And I can be super quiet.”

I caught his eye. “Maybe I can’t.”

His lips were on mine and he declared, “Challenge accepted.”

Again, he pulls me to his chest, hard length against my backside. His hands push up my shirt, cupping my breasts. His thumbs rolled over my nipples, tugging them into hard peaks and I stifled a moan of satisfaction.

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Slowly and quietly, I slipped my panties over my hips and down my legs, pushing them away from my feet. I wanted to feel Oliver’s skin on mine and I reached between the folds of his boxers, pulling out his hard length. The silky skin is hot and taut and when I release him it jabbed into my back. He fumbled a little, that heat-seeking missile searching for the space between my legs. I shifted, adjusted until we were flesh to flesh.

“Damn, you’re wet,” he breathes into my ear, his hand clenches my stomach. “Warm.”

I didn’t say a word, eyes shut, terrified to look at the bed across from us, at Jax sleeping peacefully, while the two of us were playing dirty games.

Oliver’s hand dipped between my legs, rubbing the sensitive spot. His cock pushed at me, into me, and I gasped when he entered. I bit my bottom lip and my eyes popped open and all I saw in front of me was Jackson’s handsome, surprised face.

My skin prickled and I grabbed Oliver’s hand, trying to still his moving fingers between my legs. Nope. Not a chance, he made no effort to stop. Why should he? He had no idea Mr. Peeping Tom was watching us from across the room. His face was burrowed in my neck as he thrusted his hips slowly against my ass. He was deep inside me, moving at the most painfully, pleasurably slow rhythm; my whole body felt like it may burst at any moment.

I held Jackson’s gaze while my lips parted and I panted with every thrust. His lips quirked up in a dirty grin. He pushed aside the book lying on his belly and lifted the covers, revealing a very hard, full erection straining at the front of his pants.

There was no mistaking I’d brought him to this predicament.

My eyes darted down. He didn’t hesitate for a beat before his hand moved across the cotton, stroking his length. Oliver’s teeth pressed into my shoulder as he contained his own passion and I cried out from the sheer intensity of it all.

“Sorry babe,” Oliver whispered in my ear. I lifted my hand and caressed his neck, desperately not wanting him to stop. Jackson and I stared at one another. It was clear he didn’t want to stop either.

He exposed himself, pulling his cock from his shorts. He didn’t make a move toward me and holy crap it was sexy watching him, while feeling the slow, sensual moves between Oliver and me.

I thought I was experienced. Adventurous. I’d asked to push the limits. To explore fantasies, but this one had never crossed my mind.

I’d been missing out.

I watched. Damn, I watched. His fingers moved nimbly. Sure. Not that I’d doubted it but, Jackson definitely knew how to take care of himself. It was different than how I’d do it. Slower. Harder. He stroked the length of his cock as leisurely as Oliver moved in and out, painfully slow.

My skin grew hot, ignited by what I saw. Felt.