The Freshman (College Years 1)

There’s no buildup, no words spoken. He’s suddenly kissing me. Devouring me, really. His hot, hard mouth on mine is working its magic, breaking down my defenses, making my muscles, everything within me loosen. Public displays of affection aren’t my jam, but somehow, I’m letting him grope me in the darkened hallway of a bar, and I don’t care who sees.

None of those teenagers out there would care anyway.

His fingers press into my flesh and he slowly thrusts against me in time with the thrust of his tongue in my mouth, and oh God. It feels so good. I moan. I twist my fingers into his hair and tug extra hard. I push my pelvis against his, feel the hard ridge of his cock and my panties grow instantly wet.

I want him. Worse than I did last time, because now I know. His taste, how his cock feels in my mouth, what he looks like when he comes. I want all of that again, and more. I had no idea I could be so turned on while listening to Bat’s Cave screeching in the background.

It’s Tony who ends the kiss first. “We probably shouldn’t do this here.”

He’s panting, pressing his forehead against mine, his chest heaving. I touch his cheek. Rest my hand against his chest, the pounding of his heart a speedy rhythm beneath my palm. He’s so hot. I say that out loud.

“It’s this fucking jacket. I’m burning up. Should’ve never worn it.” He sounds so angry, I start to laugh. Eventually, he does too.

“I like it,” I whisper against his lips after our laughter dies. “You look sexy.”

“You’re fucking sexy in this tank top.” He removes one hand from my butt and I cling to him, my thighs tight around his waist. He settles that hand on my breast, his thumb streaking across my nipple in the barest caress. There’s a growing ache between my legs, and my mind is suddenly filled with images of me and Tony. New ones, where we’re completely naked. Rolling around in a bed.

“I like the black bra,” he says, interrupting my dirty thoughts.

“I knew you would.” I grin, smugly.

“Hey. I thought we were just friends here.”

“Really?” I lift a single brow. “After what happened in the back seat of your car, you can still say that with a straight face?”

“I just like giving you shit.” He chuckles.

“There’s nothing friendly about this.” I slide my hand down until it rests directly over his erection.

Damn, that thing is impressive.

“I have to disagree. It’s really fucking friendly.” He thrusts against my hand, making me wish I was touching bare skin.

I idly stroke him. “We should probably get back.”

His eyes look ready to cross at any moment. “Really?”

“They’re going to wonder where we went. Then they’ll try and find us.” More stroking, my fingers curling, molding the exact shape of him beneath the denim.

“Let them find us.” A ragged breath leaves him when I squeeze. “You keep that up and I’m going to come in my jeans.”

“We can’t have that. I don’t want to waste it.” My hand drops and he looks disappointed. “Put me down.”

He does as I ask, settling me on my feet. “What did you mean by that? You don’t want to waste it?”

“When you come tonight, it’ll either be in my mouth, or inside me.” I smile. He groans. “That’s what I meant.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” he practically growls, his face pressed against my hair.

“You like it.” Grinning, I take his hand and lead him back toward the thinning crowd. Where did all the girls go? Is it past their curfew? I mean, it is a school night.

We say nothing else as we make our way to Gracie and Caleb. She’s still sitting on his shoulders, and she’s swaying to the music, which is sort of forcing Caleb to do the same. The band is performing a slow song, and those left remaining in the audience are swinging their arms in the air back and forth, their lit phones in their hand. We stop right beside Caleb, who sends us a knowing look before he squeezes Gracie’s thighs, making her squeal and glance down.

“They’re back,” he says, sending us both a knowing look.

Within minutes of our return, the performance is over. Robin shouts out a hoarse thank you. Gracie shrieks her approval. There’s a smattering of applause, a couple of hoots and hollers, and then the stage goes dark.

They’re done. Finally.