A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime (Lancaster Prep )

“You know what I mean.” Daddy sighs, sounding exhausted. “I’ve got to go. Have a good night. Sweet dreams. I love you.”

“Love you too.” I end the call before he does, tossing my phone aside before I flop backward on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Frustration ripples through me, reminding me that I’m not making the best choices, but are they really that bad?

So what if I snuck into a room with Crew and kissed him. Let him touch me. Let him slip his hand inside my panties…

God, how am I going to face him tomorrow in class? After what we’ve done? It’s going to be weird, looking into his eyes and knowing what he did to me. How much I enjoyed it.

Did he think I looked dumb, clinging to the window and practically begging him to keep touching me? Does he think I’m a pathetic little creature who’s suddenly addicted to his touch, his mouth?

Because that’s how I feel. Addicted. Overwhelmed. Needy.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, reminding myself that I’ve got this. I can face him tomorrow and act like nothing ever happened between us.

I can.





TWENTY-FIVE





CREW





I’m waiting out in front of Wren’s dorm building, wrapped up in my thickest coat, a beanie, gloves and a scarf, and I’m still cold as fuck. The sun shines brightly overhead, doing little to warm my bones. The entire campus is covered in a thick layer of snow and thank Christ someone got up at the crack of dawn to shovel the walkways.

She still hasn’t come out yet, and I’m getting worried. The bell is going to ring soon. She’s usually heading for the school entrance by now, and my friends won’t stop texting me, asking me where I’m at.

I ignore them. All I can think about is Wren. How she ran out on me yesterday afternoon. How traumatized she looked when her dad called, interrupting us. I’m sure that fucked with her head, made her feel like a sinner or whatever, though her purity promise has nothing to do with religion, from what I can tell.

It’s merely a promise she made to her father, and herself, not to stray with the first guy she’s hot for.

If her promise did have religious meaning, then I guess I’m the devil who’s leading her straight into temptation.

I can’t stop thinking about her. How incredibly responsive she is. The eager way she kisses me. How fucking wet her pussy was—she was turned on yesterday, that was obvious. And that virgin pussy was so tight, so fucking soft and hot…

I’m surprised I didn’t explode in my trousers.

Of course, when the word Daddy flashed across the screen right in the middle of me getting her off, that was a surefire way to kill a boner.

My phone buzzes, and irritably, I check it. Another text.

Malcolm: Where the fuck are you? Class is going to start soon.

Me: I slept in late. I’ll be there. Don’t worry about me.

Malcolm: Someone has to.

Not bothering to respond, I pocket my phone, my gaze on the double doors of the dorm building. At this point, I’m practically willing Wren to appear, and when the right door swings open and she appears, I nearly sag with relief. She’s as bundled up as I am, with snow boots on her feet instead of her usual Mary Jane’s and thick wool tights on her legs, a giant puffer coat wrapped all around her. She has one of those hats on that the girls love to wear with a giant fur puff ball on top of her head and matching gloves and scarf. I can barely see her pretty face.

She doesn’t even notice me, too intent on making her way over to the campus buildings.

“Wren!”

Her eyes widen when she spots me waiting for her, and I head in her direction, my steps careful so I don’t slip and break a bone from the ice.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, sounding nervous.

“I wanted to talk to you.” I stop directly in front of her, tempted to pull her into my arms and hold her close. She actually looks terrified. “Make sure you’re okay after yesterday.”

“Oh. I’m fine.”

“Your dad okay?”

“My dad? Oh yes, he’s fine. He was just checking on me. He’s been calling daily since the divorce announcement.” She mashes her lips together, as if she doesn’t want to say anything else about her parents or their divorce.

“Yeah, he kind of—interrupted us.” I say it on purpose, wanting to circle back to that moment in the library yesterday. Did it affect her as much as it did me? Is she as rattled by the intensity of that encounter? It didn’t even last that long, but I know if it had gone on any longer, I would’ve made her come.

If she’d have let me, I would’ve fucked her against that window. And she would’ve enjoyed every second of it too.

Well, maybe not. She is a virgin.

I definitely wanted to fuck her against that window though, that’s for damn sure.

“I know.” Her voice is quiet and she dips her head, her hair falling forward, the fur ball on top of her head bobbing. “Sorry about that.”

I take a step closer, slipping my fingers beneath her chin and tilting her face up so she has no choice but to look at me. “Don’t apologize. You do that a lot.”

“I know.” She visibly swallows. “It’s a habit I’m trying to break.”

“Are you really okay, Birdy? You look…”

Scared.

Vulnerable.

Fucking beautiful.

“I’m okay. I just—we probably shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice is so quiet, I can barely hear her.

“Do you regret it? What happened?”

She’s shaking her head. “I probably did it all wrong.”

“You were perfect.” She really was. And I’m repeating the very same words she said to me yesterday.

“I was?”

I hate how this girl doubts herself. Someone did a number on her to make her so self-conscious.

“Yeah.” I tug her scarf down, exposing her cheek so I can touch it. “You were.”

The bell rings in the distance since we’re a ways away from the main building, where most of our classes are, and the look of panic that crosses Wren’s face is almost comical.

“We need to go!” She darts forward, her feet slipping on the ice, and I grab hold of her arm to keep her from falling.

“Slow down. You’re going to break something.” I loop my arm through hers and we both start walking. “It’s okay. We can be late.”

“Fig won’t like it,” she says, her feet seeming to move twice as fast to keep up with my steady pace. I can feel her start to slip again, and I steady her once again.

“Fig can suck my dick,” I mutter.

“Oh, that’s kind of gross,” she chastises, but when I glance at her, I can see nothing but her eyes thanks to her scarf.

And they’re twinkling.

“I think you’re getting used to my crude ways,” I tease her, steering her down the walkway that leads to the back of the main building. I can see the students rushing down the halls through the windows of the double doors and I know we’re going to end up being a few minutes late.

We can blame it on the weather, though I’m sure Fig won’t buy it. He’s not one to care about lateness, but I’m thinking when it comes to me, he’s going to give me shit.

He hates me.

Feeling’s mutual, so I’m cool with it.

“I actually think I am too,” she says sincerely, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll have you dropping fucks here and there eventually, Birdy.”

“Oh, I doubt that. I can’t imagine saying that word.”

I can. When she’s naked and panting and dying for me to make her come. I’ll make her beg. I’ll force her to say, fuck me, Crew and when I finally slide inside her, she’ll come all over my cock.

Yeah, these are the thoughts I’ve been dealing with since yesterday afternoon. Every single one starring Wren in my dirtiest fantasies.