Page 98 of Campus Crush
Foster took a deep breath, his chest expanding under my hands. “That call I got earlier was my dad and he…he threatened to destroy your future in the industry if I don’t break up with you.”
I felt like I’d been doused with ice water. “Hewhat?”
His jaw clenched like he was barely holding it together, the muscle ticking visibly. “He said he’d make sure you lost your internship at Holt, that you’d never work in any engineering firm in Montana. He has the connections to do it too.” His voice cracked slightly. “Abby…”
My throat felt pinched as I waited to hear the words I was dreading. I knew his relationship with his dad was complicated, but that he’d also nearly always put his dad’s wishes first. So I braced myself to hear him say the words I was sure would break my heart—that we were over.
Instead, he cupped my face in his hands, his eyes intense and vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before.
“I love you,” he said, his voice rough but sure. “I’m not strong enough to let you go. I would take a bullet for you, but I can’t live without you and I’m so sorry. I should be strong enough to walk away to protect your future, but I’m not.”
Relief and love flooded through me so powerfully my knees almost buckled. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him with every ounce of love and longing I had inside me. His arms tightened around me as he kissed me back just as fiercely.
“I love you too,” I whispered against his lips when we finally broke apart, both of us breathing heavily. “Andyou’re not selfish for wanting to be with me. That’s not how this works.”
I think I’d been falling in love with him since long before we even got together—back when I only knew him as Bear.
“I need to tell you something,” I said, pulling away slightly because if we were being honest then we were going to be all the way honest. “Your dad tried to pay me to break up with you when we had dinner with him.”
For a second he looked shocked, his eyes widening and lips parting, and then his expression transformed into pure fury. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I wish I was,” I said, my hands moving to his shoulders, feeling the tension that had instantly gathered there. “When you ran in to get the valet ticket, he told me he’d pay off all my tuition and all my future grad school fees if I broke up with you. Said I wasn’t good enough for you, that you were just…” I hesitated, not wanting to repeat the crude way his father had dismissed our relationship.
“That fucking bastard,” Foster growled, his hands tightening on my waist. “I can’t believe he would…actually, no, I can absolutely believe he would do that. He’s always seen people as pawns he can move around to get what he wants.” He shook his head, his expression shifting to curiosity. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You already have such a difficult relationship with him,” I said. “I didn’t want to make it worse, especially when I had absolutely no intention of taking his offer. It wasn’t worth hurting you over.”
Foster shook his head in disbelief. “I should’ve seen this coming.”
I cupped his face, wanting him to see in my eyes the sincerity behind my words. “Foster, I love you so much, andI don’t want to lose you. Ican’tlose you. Not now, not with everything else…” My voice broke as I thought about Gram lying in that hospital bed, about how many people I’d already lost.
“You’re never gonna lose me,” he said with fierce conviction, his forehead pressing against mine. “We’ll figure this out. My dad doesn’t get to dictate who I love or what I do with my life anymore. I’m done letting him control me.”
The weight of his words, of his love, wrapped around me like a protective blanket. In the midst of so much uncertainty and grief, he was my one constant, the solid ground beneath my feet when everything else felt like shifting sand.
I kissed him again, slowly this time, pouring all my emotions into it—my love, my fear, my desperate need for him. His hands slid under my shirt, warm against my skin, and I melted into him, needing the connection that I’d only ever had with him.
He lifted me onto the counter, my legs wrapping around his waist, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat building between us. I tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine and the solid muscle beneath. He pulled it over his head by the back of his neck—a move that felt like it set my panties on fire because it was so sexy—then tossed it carelessly onto the floor. I ran my hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his toned physique and the evidence of years spent honing his body on the ice.
My own shirt followed, and then his hands were on the clasp of my bra, unhooking it and letting it fall away. He looked at me with such reverence, such open admiration, that it chased away any lingering insecurities I’d ever had about my small breasts.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Abby,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “I don’t know how I got solucky.”
He kissed me again, his tongue tracing the line of my lips, asking for entrance so he could kiss me deeper. I opened for him, our mouths melding together in a dance of need and longing. His hands cupped my breasts and then his thumbs teased my nipples into hard peaks.
A needy moan escaped my lips as I reached for the button of his jeans, my fingers fumbling slightly in my eagerness. He helped me, his hands covering mine as we worked together to undo the denim. He grabbed a condom out of his pocket, then kicked off his shoes and shucked his jeans and boxers in one swift motion. He sheathed his hard cock with the condom and then pressed his hot body against mine, his erection positioned at my core.
He entered me slowly, carefully, his eyes locked on mine as he watched for any sign of discomfort. But I was used to the feel of him now—the way he stretched me and made me feel fuller than I ever knew possible. Pleasure lit up my nerve endings as he rocked forward, hitting me deep.
“Okay?” he asked, his voice strained.
“Yes,” I breathed. It was perfect.
And then he began to really move, slowly at first, establishing a rhythm that built a fire within me.
Everything else faded away. There was only Foster, only the feel of him inside me, the way he looked at me, the sounds we made together. Each thrust was a spark, igniting a pleasure so intense it felt like I would never be the same when I tipped over the edge. I wrapped my legs tighter around him, anchoring myself to him. My fingers dug into his shoulders and left marks as my body pulsed with my release.
His name became a mantra—a prayer—whispered and gasped as the pleasure intensified, spiraling higher and higher. I was at the precipice of something incredible, and Iclung to him, trusting him to take me there because he always did.
