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“How’s your week been?” I ask, clenching my jaw as soon asthe question is out. I’ve come up with better small talk around strangers in my classes.
“Pretty good. I got dinner with some people from my algebra class last night. It was fun. Feels like I’m making some friends.”
“That’s great,” I say, burying the urge to ask if the guy from the coffee shop was there.
“You excited?” she asks. “About the final?”
Her fingers start moving again, and it’s incredibly distracting.
“Yeah.”
“Nervous?”
“That too. We came this far, which is an accomplishment. But also…it’s a hell of a long way to come to lose.”
“It’s a hell of a long way to come, no matter what.”
“It is.”
I meant everything I said to the guys earlier. But that’s no guarantee we’ll win the championship.
“I’m rooting for you,” she tells me.
Not for Holt.
Forme.
There’s a swell of my warmth in my chest. And lower, when she continues tracing random patterns across my stomach. I pulled the sheets over us when I lay down, but she’s going to notice my erection pretty soon.
I reach for her hand, threading our fingers together.
“You don’t like that?”
“I like it too much.”
It takes a second for my words to register. Then she glances at the tent I’m pitching.
“Seriously? You played a game tonight. And wejusthad sex.”
I shrug. “I told you I liked the top.”
But it has little to do with what she’s wearing, except that she wore it for me. It’s all her.
“It’s a dress,” she informs me.
“It doesn’t even cover your ass. It’s a top.”
“Doesn’t even cover my ass, huh? Maybe I should just take it off, then.”
I stop breathing when she flings the sheet off of us and rises up on her knees, tugging the red fabric over her head and tossing it away. And as much as I liked—loved—her outfit, it doesn’t compare to seeing her like this. My balls draw up tight. My thighs tense. And my dick is throbbing, rapidly inflating as Rylan lets me look my fill.
My fist finds my aching cock. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips as she watches me stroke myself.
“You’re so good at teasing me,” I tell her. “So good at taking me. It’s all I’ve been thinking about, Rye. Every time I fuck my fist, I pretend it’s your tight pussy I’m filling.”
Rylan swallows, her chest heaving with faster breaths. She’s still on her knees, hand on her thigh, and I can tell she’s toying with the idea of touching herself.
“Do it,” I encourage.
