My dick throbs inside my boxers. Every swipe of his tongue is a straight shot of fiery lust straight to my balls. He rocks his sleeping bag covered body into mine, seeking the friction we both desperately need.
The sound of our heavy breathing mixed with the wet sound of our kissing fills the air. His hands sliding through my hair, his body rocking on top of mine, the soft mewls coming out of him, all make me dizzy in the best way. Our tongues tangle perfectly, no awkward teeth clanking or timid strokes, and our lips mold together as if they were made for each other.
My hands roam the bare expanse of his toned back, his skin soft and overheated under the touch of my fingers.
Then, out of nowhere, a phone rings, startling us out of our bubble. He falls back to his side of the tent as the ringing continues. Weston jolts out of a dead sleep, grabbing the still ringing phone—which is clearly his—answering it immediately.
“Hello?” he grumbles.
It’s Jessica. What the hell is she calling so late about? Crew and I peer at one another, but otherwise stay silent.
What the hell just happened?
And why can I already not wait for it to happen again?!
Chapter Eleven
Crew
I’m wide fucking awake.
Anderson and Weston are still sound asleep, and I’m lying here, completely unable to shut my mind off. Last night replays in my mind on an endless loop.That fucking kiss.It came almost out of nowhere, but at the same time, felt like it was a long time coming.
We both have clearly been feeling something growing, something building, between us. It makes me feel better that it isn’t as one-sided as I thought it was, but I still have so many fucking questions.
What does it mean?
Is it going to happen again?
Was it just the beer talking?
Does he regret it?
Is he going to hate me now?
There’s too much on my mind. My chest is tight, my stomach’s in knots. Unzipping my sleeping bag, I hurriedly throw on my sweats, a hoodie, and some slides, then leave the tent. I gotta move. Gotta walk. Clear my head.
Is this my fault? Did I make him feel like he needed to do this?
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Shit. He’s going to wake up this morning with a sober mind, and probably regret what happened. Fucking hell. He’s going to regret it, be uncomfortable, blame me, andFUCK!He’s probably going to realize I’m more work than necessary for a friend.
He’ll finally leave me.
Finally figure out what a fucking loser, needy, fucking freak I am, and bounce.
The backs of my eyes burn, and my heart feels like it’s going to break out of my ribcage. My hand flies up to rub my chest painfully while I try to suck in big gulps of air.
Fuck.
Shit.
Can’t. Fucking. Breathe.
Falling to my knees and sinking my fists into the ground, I silently beg my lungs to work again. Soil takes root under my nail beds, fistfuls of brown and yellow leaves crunch in my palms, and the morning dew dampens my sweats.
My vision goes blurry, the pressure behind my eyes mounting. Tears fall freely, my breathing still coming out ragged. I’m a goddamn fucking mess. It’s no wonder Anderson’s going to leave me one day.Who wants to be friends with a fucking walking, talking disaster?!