Page 24 of Body Check
Every time I rock into her, it feels even better than the last. I’m pumping my hips as I watch her breasts jiggle from the force of our movement. She’s meeting me thrust for thrust, searching for another orgasm, but it’s just out of reach.
“Bend your knees for me. That’s it. I’m going to lift your leg and hook it over my shoulder, okay?” I ask.
“Yes, please. Anything. Just?—”
Her words fall away as I move her leg into a position that allows me to take her impossibly deeper. I’m hitting that sweet spot inside her and driving her crazy with need. When she lets out a cry of ecstasy and her walls squeeze me, I give in to my release and let go. My lips fasten onto hers as I ride out the best orgasm I’ve ever had.
Fuck. She’s completely ruined me for any other woman, and that’s just fine by me.
11
Bridgette
Dutton holds the door for me as we walk into the library. The main floor is buzzing with people, so reach for his hand and lead him up to the quiet study rooms on the third floor. I unload my laptop and flashcards before taking a seat in one of the cushioned chairs. Dutton sits next to me after setting his backpack on the empty table.
“Where should we start?” I ask.
The look he gives me is hot enough to make me want to peel off the sweater I’m wearing. And possibly my dress, bra, and panties, too.
“Hmmm,” he says, pretending to think about my question when all he’s probably thinking about is whether the door locks and the walls are soundproofed. When we woke up in my bed the morning after our date at the dance hall, I was afraid things might be awkward. I worried he might ghost me, or just thank me for a good time and then walk out of my dorm and my life like our night never happened. My dating history is pretty short and lackluster, but I’ve seen and heard enough from friends to know that college guys are usually allergic to commitment.
Dutton is not like other guys.
We’ve seen each other daily since our date a few nights ago, and even though it’s way too early to have a serious conversation or put labels on anything, we’ve fallen into an easy rhythm of spending time together despite our busy schedules. That’s why I thought a study date would be perfect. We’re taking the same business seminar course, even though we’re in different sections, and we have a test next week. Being study buddies is a productive use of our time.
I meet Dutton’s eyes again and realize we might have differing opinions on the word “productive.”
“I’m serious,” I say, swatting his hand away when he rests it on my thigh. “Keep your hands to yourself, or we won’t get anything done.”
He frowns. “Are you sure about that? Because we got a lot done in the shower this morning and I had my hands?—”
“Studying. We won’t get any studying done. And I’m not tanking my GPA for a hot piece of ass,” I tease, giving him a wink.
“You think I’m hot. Or that my ass is hot. Or both?” he asks hopefully.
“I think you better start quizzing me. I only have an hour before I need to leave, and if I’m not ready for that exam when it’s time to go, then I’ll have to study later tonight. And I really don’t want to do that. I have plans for tonight,” I tell him, crossing my legs and leaning back in my chair.
He’s not even hiding the fact that his gaze is raking over every inch of me right now. I’m playing his game because it’s fun to flirt with him, but I really do need to get to work, especially because I have a feeling he’s going to occupy a lot of my free time in the near future.
Dutton sighs and takes the notecards from me. “Fine. I’ll be responsible. But only because I have plans tonight, too. And theyinvolve you and me and nothing else. Except a bed. Possibly sheets. They’re nice, but not necessary. We can fu?—”
“We can,” I agree, cutting him off. “If we start studying now.”
When the timer on my phone beeps an hour later, I’m a little amazed that our time went by so quickly. I zip my flashcards into my bag, and when he reaches for my hands and pulls me into his lap, I go willingly.
“You were right,” he says. “We needed to study. But now I feel pretty good about tomorrow’s test. How about you?”
“I’m ready for it,” I say honestly. “You are a better study partner than I thought you’d be,” I admit.
“What? You thought I only had a one-track mind?” he asks with mock outrage as he slips his backpack onto his shoulders before holding the door open for me. “I’m insulted, Bridgette.”
I roll my eyes at him.
When we make it out of the library and into the parking garage, I give his hand a squeeze before pressing my lips to his.
“Are you heading back to the salon?” he asks as I click my key fob to open my door.
I shake my head. “Nope. I only had a few appointments today, so I decided to treat myself. I’m heading back to the dance hall to take a ballroom class.”
