Page 8 of Changing Lanes

Midterms. The temporary death of all college students, new or old. Well into my third semester, I take heart in the fact I know I will be passing my exams without incident. I’m blonde, so no one suspects I’m such a dork. I’m also a bookworm, our library at home is one of my favorite places.

For the first time since being at VTech, I’m paying more attention to something than just my grades. I’ve always been goal-oriented, so dating wasn’t a top priority. My father prohibited it my freshman year, I just kept it going, until now.

Spotting Brannon the first day of orientation, I switched with a friend to be his tour guide. He never made a move. I then considered to move on him. But he looked so fresh-faced, I was afraid of turning him off or scaring him away. There was never a clue he was such an old soul.

First day of class, the gods were in my favor, placing this fine specimen in my class. Let’s just take a moment to appreciate this helluva fine ass country boy, if you will. Wavy, chestnut hair with hazel eyes that smolder deep as they peer into your soul.

Muscle bound with, again, one fine ass. I’ve seen a few tats on his arms, and I hope there’s more ink under those clothes. Did I mention his southern country drawl? Oh, it makes me weak in the knees, especially when he smiles at me. Southern comfort at its finest.

Here we are, in my apartment, I feel like a sex-crazed teen as I watch him from my kitchen, playing Xbox. I’m pretending to get chips and drinks, but I’m actually taking in his every move. Every fine movement of his muscle-bound physique.

When he turns to me and smirks, my face flushes with heat. As if he knows my thoughts. Thoughts about him and the things I want to do to him. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, my eyes close involuntarily as I imagine him taking my mouth with his full lips.

I jump when he clears his throat, my eyes popping open to find him standing in front of me, mere inches from where I want him to be. Need him to be. His scent fills my senses, immediately making me squeeze my thighs together to try to appease the need throbbing within me.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. You okay, you look flushed?”

I’m almost embarrassed. Rolling my eyes, I squeak out a response “I’m good. You ready to get your ass kicked?” I motion to the Xbox. He grins as his eyes wrinkle at the corner, making them sparkle. Damn, I do believe I’m smitten with this country boy.

“I don’t think you can handle my ass,” he says jokingly before he realizes what he’s said. His face is now flushed.

“Yeah, country boy, I think I can handle your ass.” I plaster a crooked smile on my face trying to hide the desire burning in my eyes and thighs.

I brush his body when I pass, sending chills over mine. He releases a heavy breath, making my nipples pebble as we stand there, never breaking contact. Once again, I bite my bottom lip. I’m not sure if it’s to stop myself or to calm my raging hormones.

Bashfully looking up through my lashes, I find him staring at my lip, the one caught between my teeth. The exact one I want to be caught between his lips. I release my captured lip with an exaggerated sigh, praying he kisses me.

When his hands grasp at my waist, pulling me into his chest, my heart races. My hands rise to meet his pecs, hard and waiting. His breath, warm and sweet, washes over me, taking mine away. I begin to tremble in the arms of this man I barely know, but the pull my soul feels for him runs deep and wild. Like the beating of my heart.

Brannon’s grip flexes with the pounding of his heart beneath my hands. Allowing them to slide across his broad chest, I wrap my hands around his biceps. Our chests now lay against one another as we both struggle to regulate our breathing.

My eyes race to his, searching for what our next step will be. Will he take this moment to kiss me? Or will he fight what we both want and let the chance pass us by? All I know is that no matter how much I want this, I must wait on him.

Brannon’s fingers tighten on my hips when he draws me in what seems to be impossibly closer to him. Still, he waits. Watching me. His eyes flicker between my mouth and my pulse drumming through the veins on my neck.

His lips part allowing his tongue to sweep over them, leaving them wet and supple. He’s killing me slowly. The anticipation of his lips on me sends a shiver up my spine. My nipples tighten to a peak. I break, dragging in a ragged breath.

“Maybe we should go back to the couch. To play. The game. To play Xbox, I mean.” Closing my eyes, I send up a silent prayer he refuses to move.

But to my disappointment, he agrees. His breath rushes over me once again, taking mine with it. “Yeah. Definitely need to get back to the game.” Brannon draws in a deep breath but doesn’t move. Why the hell is he fighting this? Or is it, who the hell is he fighting?

We may both have said it, but neither of us have made a move. His fingers dig into my skin as my core tightens, rocketing my hormones into overdrive as I feel his hard-on into my belly. He wants this as much as I do, but his restraint is as strong as my want for him.

Never has the impulse to climb a man been greater. I could fuck his brains out right here on this counter. But something in his face tells me, not yet. No, it’s not going to happen right now. Releasing a long, exaggerated sigh, I push away.

“Come on, dude.” Running my fingers down his arms, I take him by the hand and pull him toward the living room.

Never breaking our eye contact, our souls speak to one another. I know he needs to wait, he knows I will. After a few steps, Brannon pauses. Tilting my head, I hope to coax his thoughts from him so I smile sweetly.

“What are you thinking?” He looks at me as though he wants me to make the decision for him as to whether he should kiss me or not. I would say, ‘go for it’ but my gut tells me he’s not ready to go there yet.

Shrugging as I reveal my thoughts, not my wants. “I’m thinking there’s plenty of time.”

“For?” He leans over me, his brow furrowed, contemplating our next move.

“You. Me. Us?” I leave the rest to him to decide. I mean, what does he want? We’re new, the appeal between us is here. It’s what drew us together, but I can’t tell him what to do.

“I feel as though I’ve waited all of my life for something this…easy. Real. I have no room for mistakes, not anymore.” His breathing is ragged. It’s as though this is his only chance at life.