Campus Hottie (Campus)

I don’t realize he’s standing perfectly still, allowing me to look my fill, until my attention flicks up to his face and I see the tightly leashed control being exerted. A flurry of arousal explodes in my core like a firework before dampening my panties.

He is ridiculously beautiful.

Most guys couldn’t be described using such a word, but it’s the only one that springs to mind when I think about him. Every time we’re together, it’s a struggle not to reach out and brush the thick blond strands away from his eyes. I completely understand why girls have been throwing themselves at him since he was fourteen years old. I remember the way a few of the younger female teachers would eye him up in the hallway when we were in high school. Even though I couldn’t lay claim to him, it never failed to ignite a firestorm of jealousy inside me. I hated it.

What now seems surreal is that he’s wanted me for just as long as I’ve secretly yearned for him. How has this become my reality? Half a year ago, I couldn’t have imagined it. Even two months ago, the possibility of us getting together seemed farfetched.

And yet, here we are.

As I shake off those thoughts, I realize his fingers have settled at the hem of my shirt.

“Can I remove this?”

I nod as my heart thunders beneath my breast. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before, but still...

I know exactly where this is leading.

He must sense my sudden spurt of apprehension because he pulls me close and kisses me again, drawing my lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it. Just when it seems like I’ll melt into a puddle at his feet, he releases the plump flesh with a soft pop. His gaze stays pinned to mine as he gathers up the thick fabric of my sweatshirt before gently pulling it over my head and dropping it to the floor on top of his discarded shirt.

His attention sinks to my chest. I can almost feel the heat of his stare licking over my bared flesh.

“And the bra?”

I gulp and force myself to say, “You can take it off.”

Without further ado, he reaches around my ribcage and unfastens the clasp. The delicate straps slip down my shoulders and arms as the silky cups fall away, revealing my breasts. With gentle fingers he tugs the garment free, tossing the pale pink material onto the growing pile of discarded clothing.

A shaky exhalation escapes from my lungs as I stand before him in nothing more than leggings. It takes everything I have inside not to raise my arms and shield myself from his piercing gaze. Slowly his hands rise to palm the soft flesh. The moment he makes contact, my teeth sink into my bottom lip as sensation explodes inside me.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he murmurs, continuing to toy with my body. “I’ve spent years dreaming about your breasts, wishing I could play with them just like this.”

His quietly spoken words send an arrow of lust straight down to my core.

After a tortuous amount of time that leaves me squirming beneath his touch, his gaze once again settles on mine. The blazing inferno within their golden depths nearly singes me alive. He bends, head lowering, until his warm breath is able to drift across my chest. His tongue darts out to lap at one stiffened peak before sucking it into his mouth. A million shockwaves erupt across my flesh before burying me alive in an avalanche of intensity.

Just when I don’t think I can stand another moment of this torment, he releases me before giving the same ardent attention to the other nipple. My fingers tunnel through his thick blond hair, trailing over his scalp, in order to hold him in place. Once he breaks contact, the cool air of the cabin wafts over me and goose flesh ripples across my skin.

I watch from beneath eyelids that are at half-mast, unsure what will happen next. Instead of doing the expected and straightening to his full height, he drops to his knees in front of me. His gaze locks on mine as he presses a kiss against my belly button. Air gets trapped in my lungs as his fingers settle at the elastic band at my waist before shoving the fabric over my hips and down my thighs until it can puddle around my ankles. My hands go to his shoulders as he carefully lifts one leg and removes the material before repeating the maneuver on the opposite side. Once the stiff fabric has been discarded, I’m left in nothing more than pale pink panties.

As he stares up at me, my hands gravitate to the sides of his face, stroking across the light scruff that shadows his chiseled jawline. There’s so much tenderness brimming in his eyes. More than I ever thought possible. It only reinforces that what we’re about to do is the right decision and the wait was well worth it.