Home > The Boy Next Door(7)

The Boy Next Door(7)
Author: Jennifer Sucevic

I wince as my shoulders slump and some of my pleasure drains away. It’s a complicated question. One I don’t necessarily have an answer for. “I don’t know.” That’s what I’m trying to figure out.

Instead of meeting Mia’s inquisitive stare, I focus on the band marching in formation on the field for the halftime show.

After a few minutes of silence, her arm snakes around me as she leans her head against my shoulder. “I’m just worried you’ll get hurt. That’s all.”

I huff out a breath as some of my defensiveness melts away. It’s not like I don’t understand her concern. Colton is the king of hookups. The guy is nineteen years old, and this is the first time he’s been in a relationship. I would be an idiot not to be cautious where he’s concerned. But that doesn’t mean I can hold back my feelings or pretend they don’t exist.

“I won’t get hurt.” When it comes down to it, I realize that Mia has my best interest at heart. All she’s trying to do is protect me. “We’re taking it slow.”

“Girl, please,” she says with a snort, “you don’t know the meaning of the word slow.”

My lips tremble around the corners. She’s not wrong about that. Where my bestie carefully weighs every decision she makes, I’ve always been a leap-before-looking kind of girl.

Has it gotten me into trouble over the years?

You bet it has. But that’s the way I live life.

“I think you’re already in love with the guy.” There’s a beat of silence before she adds in a serious tone, “You’ve always been in love with him.”

Instead of acknowledging the truth, I press my lips together and remain silent.

This is the problem with having a best friend who knows you so well. She’s able to figure out all your dirty little secrets. Even the ones you try to hide from yourself.

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

Colton

 

 

February of sophomore year...

 

Alyssa is wrapped up in my arms as my mouth roves hungrily over her neck. She arches, allowing me better access to her delectable flesh. A little moan escapes from her as she shoves the key into the lock.

Once.

Twice.

After three failed attempts, she whispers, “You need to stop that, or I’ll never get this door open, and we’ll end up having sex in the hallway.”

I don’t care where we screw, as long as I can get inside her. My cock is so damn hard that it’s all I can focus on. The moment I slide deep inside her is always one of pure nirvana. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. There’s a little voice inside my brain that wonders if I ever will again. Since that’s not an entirely comfortable thought, I shove it away before I can examine it too closely.

“Colton.”

My name comes out sounding more like a breathy sigh, and it does the impossible and makes me harder. I’ll be honest, I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. Her skin is too damn sweet. I’m tempted to gobble her up in one tasty bite. I’ve had my fair share of chicks over the years, but I’ve never craved anyone the way I do her. She’s like a drug pumping wildly through my system. Sometimes it feels like way too much, way too soon. And that scares the shit out of me. There are times when I’m struck with the urge to pull away in an effort to regain my bearings, but I always stop short of actually doing it.

My teeth sink into the delicate skin of her bared throat as my fingers graze her ribcage before sliding upward to her breasts. I glance down the hall to make sure it’s empty. Since the coast is clear, I tweak her nipples through the thin shirt she’s wearing beneath her jacket. “What’s wrong, baby girl? Is there a reason you can’t focus?”

She whimpers in answer as I continue playing with her body. Alyssa is so damn responsive to my touch. Sex with her is like...

I don’t even know how to describe it.

There’s a high I get when I’m inside the heat of her body. This must be what addiction feels like—craving something all the time even if it’s a person. Even when you’re balls deep, you can’t help but wonder when you can be there again.

“If you keep that up, I’ll come.”

She’s not kidding either.

So.

Damn.

Responsive.

Her whispered words go straight to my dick, making me throb even harder than I already am. Why the hell did I ever fight against this in the first place? Hands down, getting together with this girl was the best decision I ever made.

“Hey,” someone yells from a couple of doors down, breaking into the thick fog that has descended, “get a room!”

“What do you think we’re trying to do?” Alyssa bellows in response, unapologetic about our PDA.

My lips quirk as a chuckle slips free. Reluctantly, I lower my hands until my thumbs can graze over the soft outer swells of her breasts and my index fingers settle beneath the band of her bra.

Once upon a time, I’d thought her breasts were too small. Needless to say, I was mistaken about that. Maybe her cup doesn’t runneth over like some girls, but it doesn’t matter. Alyssa’s tits are fucking perfect.

Everything about her is.

“Colton,” she groans for a second time, writhing against me, all the while trying to jam the metal in the lock.

“What, baby?”

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. I want to ruin you for all other guys.” The words slip free before I can stop them. My heartbeat jackhammers. It’s the closest I’ve come to declaring my feelings for her.

“I think you already have.”

On the fifth attempt, the key slides home, and the door handle turns.

“Thank God,” she mutters as we stumble inside the space.

I’ve been dying to get my hands on her for days. Since we both have roommates, carving out time to be alone has become a challenge. I’m not going to lie, we’ve done it in my car and at the library. The potential thrill of getting caught turns us both on. She’s definitely a girl after my own heart.

Next year, the plan is to move into an apartment or off-campus housing. I’ll have my own room. Then I can sleep with her wrapped up in my arms every damn night. If the thought leaves me slightly shaken that I’m actually thinking that far ahead into the future when it comes to a girl, I ignore it and refocus my attention.

“Are you sure Mia won’t be home for a while?”

A smile curves her lips as her eyelids lower to half-mast. “Yup, she’s in class for another two hours.”

“Perfect.”

“I know.”

“Hey, Alyssa,” someone hollers from down the hall, “do you have—”

“Nope!” she responds without even glancing in their direction, “I’ll catch you in an hour.”

“An hour?” I grumble, nipping at her earlobe, “is that it?”

Her lips twitch. “Make it two,” she corrects, slamming the door shut without waiting for a response.

The moment we’re shuttered away in her tiny dorm room, we tear at our clothing as if starving for one another. Jackets are the first to be shed. Then shirts and her bra. Shoes and socks come next. Somewhere in the mix, jeans and leggings are added to the pile. It’s a frenzy of fabric thrown in every direction until we’re both stripped bare and falling onto the single twin bed.

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