He didn’t have anything else to say. I didn’t expect a response. That’s just how Stone was. He had a thought or a response, he’d give it. He didn’t have one, but his eyes were darkening and they were fixed on my mouth.
His eyes lifted to mine and his hand went to my stomach. It flattened there, slipping under my shirt. He paused, now silently asking for permission, and I groaned, biting my lip. He took it as permission and his hand moved farther up, snaking my shirt with it until he paused right below my bra.
He was waiting, gauging what I’d do next.
So was I.
This was different. It wasn’t the desperate need to escape before. Everything was different now. My bed. My room. During the day. We did this, there’d be residual effects, but, no. I was stopping myself. I either needed him or I was hating him.
This didn’t have to mean anything.
And with that decision in my mind, I was doing something I’d never done before.
I grated out, “I can’t handle a relationship.” My hands went to my shirt, pausing, too.
His grin turned cocky. “Who the fuck said anything about that?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re speaking my language.”
I still paused, my mind racing. Was this a good idea? Probably not.
I reached for his jeans, and a second later, his mouth was on mine.
He was inside me when my roommates came home that night. Thrusting in, stretching, he paused. We could hear them traipse across the floor and it was obvious they were celebrating.
“Fuck yeah, biiiiiiiiitches!”
“Oh! You fucker!”
“Stop!” Loud laughter. A clickety clickety. Someone’s high heels.
Clickety clickety—even more high heels.
“Holy fuck. Are they always this loud?”
“They must’ve won.” I wrapped my hand around his arm and pushed my hips up against his. “Um, not to break up this sweet revelation you’re having about my party housemates, but can you, you know?”
He grinned down at me, his eyes darkening in lust again. “What?” A slow pull out, then a good rough and quick thrust in all the way to the hilt and he held there, pushing, until I gasped, moaning. “You want me to finish?”
“I’d like both of us to finish, please.”
He grinned, then began moving again as his mouth bent down, touching mine.
I was lost.
All the sounds, laughter, shouting, whatever they did up there, it was gone. Stone kept moving in me and it was just him and me, the touch between us.
I gasped, arching my back. My neck was exposed, and with a groan, Stone dropped his mouth down. He was licking, tasting me, and he began moving harder, faster, then pounding until the climax ripped through us both. It sent me over the edge and I yelled out before his hand clamped down on my mouth, but he let out a long and shuddering moan of his own before slumping down over me.
Both our bodies were trembling.
“Hold on! I’ll ask her!” someone yelled, the voice getting clearer, and then a stampede sounded down the stairs.
We both froze.
“Dusty! Girl! Dusty Girl!”
Stone leapt, but it was more like he levitated off the bed in a split second and bam! The condom was ripped off, and he grabbed our clothes, the same time checking that the door was locked.
I was stunned at how fast he moved before my shirt hit me square in the face. I grabbed it, moving to put my arms through it. “I forget you’re a professional athlete.”
He was pulling his pants up just as my doorknob rattled.
We held our breaths collectively, but the door held. The lock worked. Praise to whoever installed that, but then a pounding came on the door. “Dusty! Woman! She who cooks the best fucking pizza in the world.”
Stone raised his eyebrow at me.
I rolled my eyes, but I felt the back of my neck heating up.
“We bought more stuff! And we won! We were all wondering if we could bribe you to make us some of those pizzas again? They were fucking fantastic.”
“No. Shut up.” I was. I think even the skin on my stomach was red. Cursing, I scooted to the edge of the bed and looked around for my pants.
Stone cleared his throat. He was fully dressed by now and holding out my pants.
I snagged them, shooting him a look.
“What? My mom taught me more than how to bake.” I rolled my eyes. “I got better at cooking.”
He was quiet a second. “Pizza?”
Was he…yep. He was. “You want to go up there?”
He shrugged. “Why not? They know we know each other.”
“But, yeah.” I gestured around us. “We smell like sex.”
“We’ll wash up quick.”
We’d spent all day in bed. It was almost a full repeat of the first night, except we ran out of condoms two hours ago and Stone had to run out for a resupply. We did not look how we looked in the library. Our clothes were wrinkled and it was obvious we’d been in bed. A person could tell. Softer skin. Tired eyes. A literal glow, which I knew I had.
“Dusty!” Another bang on the door.
“She probably doesn’t know who you are, moron. She will seriously not answer if she doesn’t,” came a voice from behind him before a door slammed shut.
“Bitch,” the guy muttered before raising his voice. “It’s Dent, by the way. And I’m in love with your pizza.” He laughed to himself. “I could be in love with you, too. You know that, right? Remember the bar? Remember when you ditched me? I know you were thinking I was trying to get back at Lisa, but I swear I wasn’t. I was into you—”
Stone unlocked the door and swung it open in that second. A full scowl on his face.
“Ooooh, shit.” Dent blinked, shaking his head and stepped back. He’d been leaning on the doorframe. “Oh, wow. Hey, man. Stone. You’re like, hanging out now?” He looked at me, and I was still sitting on the bed with my pants in my hand.
He saw me. He saw the pants. He saw the bed. Correction, he saw the state of the bed.
“Oh, whoa. Wow. Oh.” A nervous laugh and a crooked grin. “I was just joking, you know? I mean, I’d never fall in love with—fuck. Wow. You two are like doing that shit now?” He stood back, but waved at the bed. “That’s awesome!”
I waited, expecting Stone to deny it, or say something to cover that up. Nothing came.
Instead, he deadpanned, “We gotta shower first.”
I could die. Literally.
Dent’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course.” Then he laughed. “Awesome!” He gave me two thumbs up before walking backwards as Stone shut the door, locking it once again.
He took my hand. Not a word was spoken, and he led me to the shower.
We showered. There was some more stroking, but it was quick, and after drying off and dressing, he headed up first. I told him I wanted to do something with my hair, make myself look so it wasn’t so obvious we’d showered together.
I could hear a collective greeting as he went upstairs, and knew the instant everyone realized who else had been down here. The entire volume of the house went up five notches.
I was flustered. This was different. This was Stone not hiding he was down here, with me, and it was a full party upstairs. It was already out about us, but yeah, this felt like it was something more than what we’d talked about.
I was at the stairs when I realized I had no bra.
I was that flustered, but after getting a bra on, I went upstairs.
I wasn’t fully ready for what I walked into. This wasn’t a normal party for them, not that I was super knowledgeable on that either, but I knew there was more tonight. The usual crowd was fifteen to twenty. Tonight, there was twenty in just two rooms. I saw people outside in the backyard and people were coming in and out from the front.
I’d stepped into a full-fledged party, and going through the crowd, I didn’t have far to go to get in the kitchen. A few girls were coming in the side door, gave me the stink eye, but quickly moved on. I heard one whisper, “There he is! Told you!”
Her friend got excited. Both squealed and I was forgotten.
I did take note of their outfits, because it was so not what I was wearing. They were in halter tops, the kind that had ruffles above the boobs and just underneath, and that was pretty much it for the top. Their jeans were plastered to them. Sleek hair. Makeup on point, and bright red lipstick.
Me. I had on Stone’s shirt and my jeans. Granted, my jeans were also plastered to me, but looking at those girls, I knew my jeans didn’t have the whole sexy look they were pulling off. And don’t get me started on my hair. I’d pulled it up into a quick braid before coming up, but to my credit, it was a messy fishtail braid. Go me. Fishtail braids were always trending, or they should be. They were awesome, which according to Dent, I was fucking awesome.
But back to those girls. As I was pushing into the kitchen, I saw where they were going and who ‘he’ was.