A fat tear rolls down my cheek, and he swipes it away, then leans in to kiss me. It’s sweet. Soft. Just a gentle graze.
For some reason, sitting under the dark sky full of stars, I can sense how fragile this is. Nick and I are tethered together with the thinnest of strings, gossamer strands that could break at any moment. We’re basically tied together right now because of circumstances. It’s not like he would’ve asked me out of his own accord. Living together transformed our dynamic. That dang tree crashing through my bedroom changed everything.
Deep down, I know this is a fluke. That we might not make it beyond graduation.
It’s what we agreed to, but I can’t help wanting more.
And I’m too afraid to ask him if he wants me to come back after my trip.
Another tear falls.
“Hey, come on now. I can’t handle you crying, buttercup.”
I take a deep breath and decide to shove all of this into the deepest recesses of my heart. I wanted a hot fling, so I’m going to take what I can get. I’ll deal with the consequences of that decision later.
Sniffling, I laugh. “I’m just crying because I bet a hundred bucks on UT today.”
Nick laughs like he knows I’m full of it. “Abigail Dawson.”
“Kidding.”
He tackles me back, and I squeal as he tickles me senseless. “You naughty girl. I’m gonna make you pay for that one.”
I end up on my back, and he comes up over me, settling between my legs. It’s dark out but clear, so the moonlight lets me see the handsome man in my arms. I try to catch my breath, which billows up in the chilly air. “I’m cold. You should warm me up.”
His nose drags against mine. “You are cold.”
Reaching down, he drags the blanket over us. When he reaches under my shirt, I squeal again. “Your hands are freezing!”
“That’s what you get for betting on UT.”
I tangle my fingers in his hair and drag his mouth to mine. “You know you’re the only man on that field I’d ever bet on, right?”
His eyes go soft, and he nods. “Thanks, buttercup.”
After he takes off my glasses, he dips his head to kiss me. I open to him right away. His tongue lazily strokes mine as his hand makes its way up my shirt. When he palms my boob, I arch into him. He kisses down my neck, pausing to suck on that tender skin.
“Up.” He backs away to help me out of my button-down sweater and t-shirt, but then he slips the sweater back on me. “That way you’re not cold while I worship your tits.”
I laugh and lie down again, loving how he holds my boobs up to his mouth and bites my nipples.
He groans against my skin. “Christ, you make this sweater look sexy.”
It’s just a button-up red sweater, the kind I plan to wear when I teach.
Through our jeans, I feel his giant erection against my hip. I run my hands under the back of his shirt and then tug it up. “If I have to take off my shirt, you do too.”
He shrugs off his hoodie, then reaches back and drags off his shirt. “Scoot up the bed so if my face lands between your legs, I don’t fall off the back.”
Laughing, I comply. When he crawls over me again and wraps us in that blanket, I sigh with happiness. Why does he feel so good? Why does this feel so right?
Dipping his face, he sucks and licks my boobs while my fingers trace the bulging muscles in his shoulders.
Our hips move against each other until we’re both panting. When I can’t stand it any longer, I nudge him. “Take my jeans off.”
His eyes go molten. A minute later, I’m lying in the bed of the truck in my open sweater and a pair of bikini underwear.
I drag my finger down his stomach and flick open the button on his jeans. He kicks them off, and he’s left wearing boxer briefs that strain against his erection.
