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There's a woman on her knees, taking him into her mouth.
And his hand is on the back of her head, tugging at her platinum blond hair hard enough to rip out her extensions.
She's wearing the same hot pink BCBG dress I am.
She's giving him a blow job.
And I'm watching.
I shouldn't be watching.
"I'm sorry." I take a step backwards. My gaze refuses to budge from the action.
The woman pulls back. She looks at me with an expression that screams the clearly innocent girl in the doorway is not a threat to me sucking off this hot dude.
Slowly, I force myself to take another step backwards. My
gaze only cooperates enough to move up his defined, tattooed torso, to his strong shoulders, to the curly black hair hanging in front of his dark eyes.
No...
That's Kit.
The bassist in my brothers' very famous, very successful band. A super hot famous rock star belongs at a party like this.
A good girl college student... not as much.
His eyes catch mine. They flare with recognition.
Oh God. I have to see him in a few days. I have to look him in the eyes.
"I didn't... you should really lock the door." I turn and move away from the bathroom as quickly as possible.
I know there's something wrong with Kit being here, but my brain isn't working. My brain is stuck on the image of him naked in that woman's mouth. My brain is thinking up alternate scenarios of me being the girl with him in the bathroom.
Stupid brain. It's not like I'm about to lose my virginity in the bathroom at some party. Not even if it's with Kit—I'm not ashamed to admit I've had a crush on the bassist since we met.
It's a school girl he's hot and mysterious kind of crush. I'm old enough to know that. But that knowledge does nothing to make my heartbeat calm down when he's around. It certainly isn't helping with the jealousy twisting my stomach in knots.
He's so fucking beautiful.
And, apparently, he's also incredibly well-endowed.
And as slutty as his reputation suggests.
And at this stupid party with way too much booze and drugs.
Wait—
A hand curls around my upper arm.
"You're too tall to blend into a crowd this well." Kit's deep voice flows into my ears. His other hand curls around my other arm. Gently, he turns me so we're face to face. "You okay?"
My cheeks flush as I attempt, and fail, to look him in the eyes. Instead, my gaze stays on my shoes—the Mary Jane flats that scream innocent little girl. "You're already finished?"
He chuckles.
God, I'm going to die of embarrassment. It wouldn't be so bad if this was some random guy but this is Kit, my brother's best friend. And my friend too. I see him all the time.
