Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I take advantage of his distraction and press my ass back into Foster’s crotch. He’s not hard. Disappointing. But I’m sure I can change that if the way he grips me harder is any indication.
“Hey, Foster?”
“Mm?” His lips dance over my neck, and I shiver.
I drop my head back against his shoulder and tilt my head to whisper seductively into his ear. “I’m not wearing any panties.”
Foster jerks up straight, eyes wide—not the reaction I was expecting. His lips twitch as he exchanges a look with Topher. Who’s laughing. Uncontrollably.
Was I louder than I thought?
“Did you get him drunk?” Foster demands.
Topher holds up his hands. “It was, like, two shots.”
“Four.”
He frowns. “No way.”
I laugh and sing, “Topher got me drunk.”
“No.” Foster moans and drops his forehead onto my shoulder.
“What’s the big deal?” Topher asks.
“Yeah, what’s the big …” What was it?
Foster shifts so I’m beside him and no longer pressing against his dick. It means I catch the glare he levels at his friend. “Thanks for ruining my night, asshole.”
“Ruining your …” Topher scoffs. “Oh, come on. You’re a gentleman now, are you?”
Foster flips him off before steering me away. “I think it’s time we get you home.”
“Oh really?” I aim for his neck and Foster shifts away.
“Nuh-uh. None of that, you tease.”
“Tease?”
“Yes, you little fucking tease.” We leave the house and start the walk home, Foster’s arm hugging me close against him.
“I’m confused,” I confess as we leave Greek row. “Why do I feel like, umm … sex. Is sex happening?”
He sighs. “Not tonight.”
“What?” I stop walking. “Why on earth not?”
“Because you’re drunk.”
“And?” I frown. “Would that be a problem if it was someone else?”
“Yes. Tipsy is fine, but this …” He lets go of me as if proving a point, and I stagger to the side of the footpath. Foster has to grab me again. He reels me in and presses a kiss to my temple. “We’re not in a hurry.”
He might not be. I pout. “But I really want to.”
“Do you?” he asks doubtfully. His arms wrap around my waist as he looks down at me sweetly. “Why did you drink so much, Zach?”
“I didn’t think … I didn’t realize how much it was. They were little tiny drinks, and nothing was happening, and then a lot was happening, and—”
“And now you’re drunk.”
I giggle and press my face to his chest. “Topher said they’d give me confidence.”
Foster stiffens against me. “Confidence for what?”
“To please you. To make you feel the way you made me feel earlier. To not be nervous and awkward and make a complete mess of things.”
“Zach”—he eases me back so he can look at me again—“we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“But I want to. I really, really want to. I’m not nervous about doing it. I’m nervous about making it good for you. What if I try to give you head and end up choking—”
“Then it will be insanely hot.”
“Or if I come too quickly—”
“I’ll take it as a compliment of my mad skills.”
I study his face for any signs he’s lying, but my vision won’t stay steady. “You’re so pretty.”
His full lips curl up, then he pinches my ass and the pain shoots right to my dick. “I prefer devastatingly handsome, thanks.”
“Whatever you call it, I like it a lot.”
Foster reaches up to run a hand over my hair as he studies me. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
He kisses me, and my tequila confidence has me pushing into the kiss, opening my mouth and swiping my tongue against his. With a groan, Foster pulls back.
“See? Fucking tease.” I like the way his voice sounds strained.
“Fine.” I pout. “Take me home.”
“Nope. I might not be able to have sex with you, but you’re not denying me the chance to sleep next to you tonight. You’re coming back to my dorm.” He turns around and bends down a little. “Climb on.”
I don’t hesitate to wrap my arms around his neck and jump onto his back. “Is that a euphemism?” I purr into his ear. Or at least, I attempt to purr. When he laughs, I suspect I got it wrong.
“No euphemism. Behave yourself.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Zach …”
“Mm?” I use my vantage point to run kisses over his neck.
“Stop dry humping my back.”
Oh. I hadn’t even realized I was grinding against him. “But you’re so fucking sexy.” This time I’m not trying to sound as husky as I do. And apparently, not trying seems to do the trick. His hands tighten on my thighs, and I respond by nipping his ear. “A wise man once told me the anticipation can be just as erotic.”
“Erotic,” Foster mutters. “Tonight is gonna kill me.”
21
Foster
A loud groan wakes me from an entire night of broken sleep.
Lying next to Zach is as torturous as it is enjoyable. Would’ve been more enjoyable had he not been plastered, but holding him all night was a nice consolation.