The Goal (Off-Campus #4)

“I meant it when I said I didn’t want to get involved,” she says.

“I know you did. That’s why I haven’t called.” I wander over to the desk, scanning the titles of her textbooks, all gazillion of them.

There’s a small cork bulletin board on the wall, with pictures tacked on it. I smile at a shot of Sabrina sandwiched between two other girls. The one on the left has bright red hair and she’s sticking out her tongue while squeezing Sabrina’s butt in an exaggerated fashion. The one on the right has long, thin braids, and she’s smacking a kiss on Sabrina’s cheek. They obviously adore her, and I feel a spark of approval knowing there are at least two people out there who have her back.

“My girls,” Sabrina explains, coming up beside me. She points to the right. “That’s Hope—” She points to the left. “And Carin. They’re my angels sent from heaven. Seriously.”

“They seem cool.” My gaze travels over the other pictures before landing on a white piece of paper with the Harvard emblem in the corner. “Holy shit,” I breathe. “Is that what I think it is?”

Her entire face lights up. “Yup. I got into Harvard Law.”

“Fuck yeah!” I swing around and yank her toward me for a hug. “Congrats, darlin’. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of me too.” Her voice is muffled against the side of my neck.

Oh boy. This hug was a bad idea. Now all I can concentrate on is the way her round, full tits are pressed up against my chest. I swear her nipples are hard too.

Sabrina’s breath hitches the moment she feels the change in my body.

“Sorry,” I say ruefully, easing my hips back. “My dick got confused.”

A laugh pops out of her mouth. She tilts her head to look up at me with humor. And heat. I’m definitely seeing a spark of heat there.

“Poor guy,” she murmurs. “Do I need to explain to him the difference between a hug and a fuck?”

Je-sus. This girl is not allowed to say the word fuck. It sounds too much like a promise when it’s leaving those pouty lips.

“I think that’s wise,” I answer solemnly. “Though he’s not the smartest fella—you might need to give him a hands-on tutorial.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “What happened to no pressure?”

“Ah, I’m just playing. No pressure at all, babe.” Except for the pressure behind my zipper, that is.

She goes quiet for a moment. We’re no longer hugging, but still standing only a few inches apart.

“Honestly?” she says. “I tend to function better under pressure. Sometimes I need…a little push.”

I hear the unspoken question, but although my cock gets harder, I force myself to show restraint. “I won’t push you. Not unless I’m a hundred percent sure it’s something you want.” I study her expression. “Is it what you want?”

She moistens her lips. “It…is.”

“Not good enough. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“You. I want you.”

“Be more specific.” Fuck, I’m a masochist, apparently. But this girl has turned me down twice since we slept together. I need to make sure we’re on the same page.

“I want you. I want this.” Her palm covers my package, and my erection nearly hammers its way out of my pants.

“Where do you want it?” My voice is pure gravel.

“In my mouth.”

Goodbye, restraint. Sabrina James literally took a wrecking ball to it with those three lust-drenched words.

I’m kissing her before either of us can blink. And it’s the kind of kiss that goes from zero to sixty in a hot second. My tongue slides through her parted lips in a greedy stroke. She gasps with delight and kisses me back, her tongue tangling with mine for a few mind-melting seconds before she kisses her way toward my neck. Her breasts rise as she inhales deeply, and the soft moan she gives zips right to my balls.

“You smell so good,” she whispers, and then her lips are all over me. Traveling along the tendons of my neck, rubbing over my collarbone, tickling my chin. Pretty much driving me crazy.

She slides one hand between us and rubs me over my pants. She doesn’t unzip them. Doesn’t reach inside. I don’t know if it’s because she’s teasing or waiting for the push she supposedly needs. Since I don’t have patience for the former, I seize onto the latter.

“Take my dick out,” I say roughly.

Her lips curve teasingly. “Why would I do that?”

“You said you wanted me in your mouth.” I clench my fists to my sides. “So put me in your mouth.”

She makes a sweet little sound, a cross between a whimper and a moan and a sigh. I feel her fingers trembling as she pops open the button of my jeans, but I know it’s not nerves because her expression is smoky with excitement.

“I wanted to do this that night in your truck,” she confesses. “But I was too impatient to feel you inside me.”

She delicately draws my stiff shaft out of my boxers and curls her fingers around it. I kick off my boots, then yank my jeans and underwear down. Kick those away too.