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I pull away, admiring my handiwork. “This mark is for me.”

I skate my hands up her thighs, catching her skirt as I go, revealing all of that soft skin. I look up at her, making sure she’s okay. Her hands grip the edge of the step, and she swallows thickly, eyes locked with mine. Yeah, she’s more than okay. I’ll never understand how anyone could look at Vandy and see someone who’s less.

She’s perfection.

Hooking my fingers in those crisp white panties, I hold her eyes, waiting. She lifts up in response, bracing her hand on my shoulder, and I pull them down and over her hips. Her knees wobble as I drag them down each foot, before tucking them in my back pocket.

Mine now.

“Are you sure?” she asks, cheeks flushed red and her knees slowly closing. “I think our positions are supposed to be reversed.”

“I’m so fucking sure,” I say, pitching forward to press my lips against her mouth. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.” I punctuate this by touching her there, fingers easing sightlessly through her folds, getting her ready for my mouth. I watch as her gaze goes heavy, eyelids sliding closed, and take the opportunity to look down. I take a long, enthralled moment to watch my fingers working against her. “Just relax, okay? I’m going to make you feel so good.”

She shudders out a slow, “Okay.”

Despite that, when I drop back down, cupping her knees, I have to whisper, “Open your legs for me, baby.” She exhales, eyes glued to mine, and lets her legs fall open. I gather her skirt up at her waist and duck between her thighs, pressing a long, open-mouthed kiss to her pussy.

She gasps, fingers thrusting suddenly into my hair. When I flick out my tongue, her fingers clench, tugging hard, and it feels so good that I groan against her and feel her responding shudder. I hook my hands around her thighs, letting my palms run up and down as I finally—finally—taste her. At some point, the taut, tense thighs beneath my hands begin relaxing, slowly falling open. The nervous, inexperienced girl vanishes as her hips rise, bucking forward into my ministrations. Her breathing turns from deep inhalations to these sharp, quick hitches that have her chest jerking up and down. I can’t stop touching the soft skin of her inner thighs, my hands skating up and down, squeezing, kneading.

I raise my eyes to lock with hers, cock throbbing at the wrecked expression on her face.

“Oh my god,” she cries, and I smile against her, keeping a smart remark about being a god to myself. She’s the goddess, writhing under me, yanking my head closer by my hair, riling me up in a way I never knew was possible. Someday, I’ll get to tell her that it’s not just about sex. That she makes my dick hard and my balls ache, but that there’s also something new and terrifying in the pit of my chest, and that’s the thing driving me forward here, desperate to elicit a smile from her just as much as these blissful sounds she’s making.

Lofty cries echo up the tower, and when she comes, it’s like she’s ringing the damn bell with her voice. She trembles, legs weakly clamping around my ears, until they fall to the side and I lift my head, seeing that she’s flat on her back, eyes closed, facing the ceiling. I smooth down her skirt, wipe my mouth, and lie next to her. Her chest rises and falls, and I rest my hand over her belly, covering her scar.

“Are we okay?” I ask, hoping I hadn’t crossed a million lines.

She turns her head. “Why would you ask that? It felt—amazing. Did I do something wrong?”

“Fuck no, you did everything right.”

It’s dark when we leave the tower, both freshly marked. It sucks that I can’t hold her hand, but I give her a kiss before I push her out the door and onto the quad. It feels wrong having any kind of distance after what we’d experienced in the Stairway. Like what we did was shameful. I’m definitely not ashamed to have the taste of Vandy on my tongue.

I give her five minutes to get across the campus, to the parking lot, before I walk into the cool, fall air. I’m passing the main building when I see Sydney leaning against the wall in a pair of black, skin-tight booty-shorts that barely cover her ass. Her eyes narrow briefly when she sees me, but then her lips quirk into a smile.

“Reyn, hey.”

I don’t slow my stride. “Hey, Syd.”

She pushes off the wall and rushes to catch up. “My car’s in the shop and my sister was supposed to pick me up. According to ChattySnap, though, she’s at the Nerd with her boyfriend.” She rolls her eyes. “Any way I can catch a ride home?”

At this point, we’re in the parking lot, a few feet away from my Jeep. Saying no would be rude as hell, and despite everything, she’s Vandy’s friend. “Yeah, sure.” I unlock the doors. “Hop in.”

I toss my bag in the back and get behind the wheel. Sydney slides in the front seat as I crank the engine. She lifts her foot and rests it on the glove compartment, eyes searching her leg. “Shit. I knew it.”

I glance over. She has a huge black mark on her inner thigh. “Damn, what happened?”

She grazes her fingers over the bruise. “Oh, collateral damage from being on top of the pyramid. I have bruises all over my body.” She grins. “But you’d know all about that, being a football player.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I mutter, pulling out of the parking lot, as she starts to go into a rant about how cheerleaders are real athletes despite everyone just thinking they’re for show.

“You wouldn’t believe how hard we work. There’s cardio, tumbling, strength training… it’s a serious workout.” She pulls up the hem of her shirt. “Check out my six-pack.”

I nod, but barely look. I’m still humming from my time in the Stairway. Whatever this girl is selling, I don’t want any.

“Uh,” I say, pulling up to the four way stop. “Where do you live?”

“Cedar Grove,” she replies pointing to the left. “You haven’t been to my house before, have you? I have a pool. You should come by sometime for a swim.”


Tags: Angel Lawson Boys of Preston Prep Romance