“Sorry,” I mumbled, propping myself on my elbow and looking down at him as he rubbed his hand over his face a few times.
“Then I should get out of this bed—hell, probably the apartment while I’m at it.”
I smiled. “Why?”
He gave me a frustrated look, his expression just as dark and tight as his eyes. I lost my smile pretty quick and cleared my throat. Without another word, I got up on my knees, a little breathless and a little unsure, settled next to his legs and swallowed. I wasn’t going to ask permission, and he wasn’t stopping me. I could feel his eyes burning into my skin. Was it uncool to be so fascinated by a cock? Because apparently, I couldn’t take my eyes off of his. The thick shaft, the dark pink head…the way it rested on his hard stomach, that thick vein on the underside…the anticipation of how good he would taste…all of it rushed at me at once and I couldn’t wait any longer.
I chanced a glance at Dylan and saw him swallow, saw his throat moving and how set his jaw was.
I reached to take him in my hand, but he stopped me before I could and linked our fingers together.
“Use the other one,” he said, that thick, needy voice rushing over me and causing goose bumps to explode all over my skin.
I licked my lips in anticipation. “Okay.”
I wanted him in my mouth probably a bit more than even he wanted it. I wasn’t a pro at blowjobs per se, but I didn’t think I was the worst either. Shaking my head to get rid of all the stupid second-guessing, I grabbed his thick base with my left hand and lowered my mouth over the thick head, rolling my tongue all around it.
Dylan’s hips jerked up and he squeezed my hand with his.
“Sorry.”
Slowly I moved my hand up and down his length, brushing my thumb over his slit, using his seeping wetness to make it easier. He tried to lie as still as possible.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his head sinking into the pillow when I put him in my mouth again. “Zoe, I don’t think I’ll ever let you out of this bed again.”
And he didn’t, not until he had to when his phone started ringing over and over. One of his teammates, Benji, was calling to make sure he would make it to practice.
After that, it was a mad rush. I had no idea when we had woken up, but after I made him come all over his stomach and my hands, he reciprocated, and then I got another bonus one. When his friend called and popped our private little bubble, I felt guilty for being so happy when my friend was going through hell.
Fifteen minutes after the phone call, we were both showered, dressed, and ready to go.
“You’ll call me when you’re coming home?”
“I will.”
“You’re skipping your classes?”
“Yes, both Jared and I are.”
“You’ll call if you need anything?”
“I will.”
“Text me how she is doing when you get there.”
A quick nod from me and I looked away.
He reached up to grab my chin.
“What’s wrong?”
I gave him a half shrug. How was I going to explain to him about Mark and Chris? How did you even start a conversation like that?
So…here’s the thing, I know you hate liars because you told me that the first night you came here, but I’ve been lying to you this whole time. Hey, at least it was a white lie, right? I never had a boyfriend, not since you moved in, and your best friend happens to be my long-lost brother, but we’re not telling him anything because that’s how Mark wants it. Good talk. Bye.
Just like ripping off a band-aid.
To my embarrassment, my eyes burned with unshed tears and I turned away to get to the door before he could see them.
“Nothing. You’re going to be late. Come on.” I pulled on his hand to tug him out and locked the door.
“Zoe, wait.”
He put his hand on my arm, but I was already on the move.
Ms. Hilda’s door opened before we could escape. I swore the woman spent half her day—possibly even more—with her ear pressed to the door, lying in wait for her victims.
“Where have you two been? I needed you yesterday and I knocked and knocked on your door. Did you have a party over there? I believe I told you I wouldn’t like that when you first got here, Miss Clarke.”
If I’d had a to-do list for the day, dealing Ms. Hilda wouldn’t have even been the last thing on that list. Very aware of Dylan’s presence standing tall and strong behind me, I tilted my head and took a deep breath. “Did you hear music or something, Ms. Hilda?”
“No, but I could have sworn I heard—”