Page 88 of Talk Nerdy To Me
Base shakes his head, looking furious at some points and looking as though he’s restraining a laugh at others, while he guides me toward the back of the van.
Taylor runs a hand through his hair, cursing as he goes toward Randy, still griping at him for his inability to properly read firework instructions.
“Get changed and we’ll call it a night,” Base says to me, kissing the top of my head before he walks off.
I’m not particularly tired anymore, considering the fact my adrenaline is working through my veins. I could jog, and I don’t even like jogging.
I have energy for sex, but nowhere to have sex and no way of successfully seducing him.
After I’m finished changing, I open the door, and Base climbs in, shutting the door behind him, grinning as he gently pushes me down to the pallets on the floor of the van.
Okay then. That was easy enough for once.
His lips find mine before I can even ask what he’s doing, and then I decide I don’t care what he’s doing as long as he keeps doing it.
Just as my fingers tangle in his hair and he gets settled comfortably between my legs, the van doors open, and he groans against my lips.
“You can’t take her virginity on the floor of the van,” Taylor states in an emotionless tone as the van jostles and he’s suddenly coming in beside us.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Base says as though he’s frustrated.
Well…now I’m confused. Hopefully, people will misinterpret it for constipation.
He moves off me, rolling to the side, and tugs me up against him as close as I can physically get without crawling on top of him. I don’t smile, but it’s because I’m actively trying not to smile.
“How are we all going to sleep back here?” I hear Krysta asking as she climbs in and moves toward the top.
“We’ve done it with more people than this,” Sticks answers as he climbs in as well.
With people lying in carefully placed positions, and me mostly pressed against Base, everyone manages to get uncomfortably crammed in. I’m not sure the quality of sleep will be great, but I’ve slept in tighter spaces than this.
Randy is the last to climb in, hobbling and hissing out pained breaths when he struggles to crawl to a spot.
Krysta suddenly groans. “I’m lying here, trying to go to sleep while wedged between two guys I barely know—”
“Sounds like a good start to a cheesy porno,” Sticks says suddenly.
A snort follows that from Base as his chest vibrates with suppressed laughter.
“Anyway, and I keep smelling burnt hair. I hate that smell,” she states like it needs to be said. “Especially when I know it’s burnt ball hair.”
A whimper sounds seconds before all the guys burst out laughing.
“I bet none of you fuckers would be laughing if it was your singed ball hair that was stinking up the van,” Randy grumbles.
“I’m so glad you guys took me seriously when I said I’d like to keep it classy this weekend,” Base says, even though he’s saying it through a laugh.
More laughter follows that, and I just grin against Base’s shirt that is stretched across his chest. His arm is pillowing my head, and despite the fact I’m not all that sleepy, I drift off to ball-hair, flaming-balls, and ball-busting jokes.
