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Wait … should I?

Or is this “diving headfirst out of a plane without a chute” level of dumbass?

Well, when have you ever turned down a party?

So, what I’m hearing is that you’re enabling me to be a slut?

Yes. One hundred percent.

Do some shots.

Get a whole lot of slutty.

Suck some cock.

Who’s the slutty one now?

God knows I haven’t had the chance lately.

At least one of us should be getting some dick before the semester finishes.

A soft light flicks on, bathing this unfamiliar bedroom in a warm glow.

“Uhh. Hi—” From across the room, a deep voice is followed by a clearing of a throat.

I nearly drop my phone at the sight of the absolute smoke show filling the doorway. He has a beer in hand, a slight furrow on his brow, and I do a rapid-fire inhale of everything about him.

He’s insanely hot. Stupidly so. The sort of solid build that screams football scholarship, except he’s too old for college. Nor is he dressed like a typical jock. In fact, the Wranglers clinging to his muscled thighs and flannel shirt he’s wearing scream country boy. He’s even wearing scuffed boots that aren’t too dissimilar to my own.

Add in the tousled blond hair and strong stubbled jaw presenting themselves and, well, there’s no stopping my eyes from raking hungrily over him from head to toe. The prospect of this is goddamn mouthwatering.

Well, shit. All thoughts of that other dude from downstairs fly straight out my head.

Goodbye. See you never. Instant upgrade alert.

I’m gonna owe a massive thank-you to my brazen friend in the frilly skirt for finding a third member for this party who is exactly the type of man I go weak at the knees for.

It all happens in a blink.

One second, I’m eye-fucking him into next week, and the next I’ve successfully lost the tequila, tossed my phone on the bed, and launched myself at him … all before I could say, “Hey there, cowboy.”

My fists curl into the front of his shirt, and oh my god, the warmth of him seeping through the worn fabric beneath my fingers is so damn magnetic. He smells like the night air … fresh … masculine … sending a coil winding tight and low in my stomach.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” I murmur, spellbound, eyes locked on his mouth, before I simply just take.

Sky’s advice rings in my ears, giving me a surge of unbridled confidence to slam our mouths together as I drag him further into the room.

Get a whole lot of slutty.

He might be wider and broader and thicker set than me, but his powerful frame follows my lead all too easily. I continue tasting his lips, with glimpses of hops from his beer and mint lingering there, as I shove him backward against the wall.

Something rattles with the force of the two of us stumbling together. And it makes me let out a small growl of satisfaction that he’s allowing me to immediately take the upper hand.

Lapping my tongue against his, I press forward, demanding entry into his mouth. To my horny delight, he fucking lets me, allowing me past the seam of his lips. The second I give that silent request, our tongues slide together.

Kissing him, a total stranger, somehow doesn’t feel weird. In fact my entire body lights up at the feeling of his broad chest beneath my curled knuckles. I’m soaking in every tiny detail of the way his shirt feels softened from repeated wear, and the woodsy scent of him crawls into my brain.

He tastes so good and smells amazing, and my dick is absolutely aching. Blood rapidly flows south and I’m lengthening inside my jeans, eager as fuck.