“Just water, please.”
When he stands and hands me the water bottle, I take it from him with a murmured thank you, our gazes locking. He seems nervous. To have me in his room?
This is very un-Crew-like of him.
I watch him settle in on the bed first. He’s got a pile of pillows and he leans against one stack, then pats the empty spot beside him. “Sit down.”
I set my bottle of water on the nightstand before I join him, tossing the bag of popcorn in his direction. He catches it, settling it next to him before he leans over and grabs his laptop.
Leonardo DiCaprio’s face is huge across the screen, elegant in a tuxedo, his golden hair swept to the side.
“Ready to play, just like I promised,” Crew says, and when he glances over at me, I smile.
“Push play then. I have to be back in my dorm by—” I check the time on his laptop. “A little over three hours.”
“You showed up early.”
“I was worried it would take me a while to walk over here. The sidewalks are getting slick.”
“It’s cold out there.”
“Nice and warm in here though.”
He says nothing. Just hits the space bar on his laptop and the movie starts playing. He holds it in his lap, angling it toward me and I give in to comfort, leaning my head against the pillows behind me, rolling on my side as I reach for the bag of popcorn. I tear it open, grabbing a handful before I hand it over to him, and we share it, occasionally dipping our hands inside at the same time, our fingers colliding. Tangling.
I’m achingly aware of his presence, and I can’t even concentrate on the movie, though Crew was right. It’s visually stunning, and I want to pay attention, but he’s a complete distraction.
He’s so close, I could reach out and touch him easily. I study his face, the way his hair falls over his forehead, and he keeps shoving it back. He smells fresh and clean, as if he took a shower before I arrived, and I’m half-tempted to bury my face in his neck, so I can inhale his scent.
Crew changes position, mimicking mine, resting his head on a stack of pillows and lying on his side. He sets the laptop in between us before he glances over at me to find I’m already watching him.
And I don’t look away. It’s like I can’t.
His gaze drops to my mouth, lingering there before he finally looks me in the eyes. “You shouldn’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I whisper, my skin prickling with awareness when he reaches over and pushes my hair away from my face, his touch so gentle, I briefly close my eyes, savoring his closeness. The fact that I’m here with Crew. Just the two of us. Lying on his bed.
It goes against everything I’ve ever said. Every girl I’ve looked down upon for succumbing to a boy. How weak I thought they were.
Now I’m just as weak as them, and I understand.
I get it.
“Like you want me to kiss you,” he murmurs as he traces my jaw with his fingertips. “Open your eyes, Birdy.”
I do as he says, sucking in a breath when I see how close his face is to mine.
“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, drifting his thumb across my bottom lip. “I thought you hated me.”
“I did,” I say with hesitation.
He smiles, the sight of it warming my insides. “I hated you too.”
“Why?” I’m genuinely curious. “I never did anything to you.”
“You came onto campus a complete stranger. No one knew who the hell you were, yet they all wanted to know you. Wanted to get closer to you, copy you, be your friend. It annoyed me.” A flash of irritation appears in his eyes, there and gone in an instant.
His words make me feel bad. Does he still feel that way about me? I didn’t like him because he would always glare at me. He scared me.
“I thought you were full of shit. No one could be that sweet, that nice, that beautiful. I figured you were hiding a dark, ugly secret.” He curls his fingers around my chin, tipping my head up. “But you’re not. You really are that sweet.”
I frown. “I’m not always sweet.”
“I know.” He leans in, his mouth barely touching mine. “Sometimes you’re dirty, aren’t you? You liked it when I had my fingers inside you.”
A shuddery breath leaves me and he kisses me again, his mouth lingering, his tongue sliding out for a teasing lick before he pulls away. “You were so wet.”
My cheeks go hot. It’s embarrassing, how he’s bringing up every mortifying detail of that afternoon.
“Wet for me,” he whispers into my mouth before he kisses me deep, his tongue thrusting, stroking against mine. He scoots closer, his foot kicking the laptop shut, cutting off the movie, so there’s nothing but silence in the room. The only sound is of our lips connecting. The rustle of clothing as he pulls me into him, a sigh falling from my lips when he kisses my throat.
“You drove me crazy in class today,” he admits against my neck.
I wrap my arms around him, daring to slip my hand beneath his sweatshirt, so I can touch his hot, bare skin. “How?”
“With that damn lollipop. The way you kept licking it. You don’t even want to know what I imagined you really doing.” He lifts his head so his gaze meets mine.
“Tell me what you wanted me to—” He silences me with his lips, stealing another deep, tongue-thrusting kiss before he breaks away, his breath hot in my ear.
“I imagined you doing the same thing to my cock.” He nips my earlobe, making me whimper. Or maybe that’s just his words making me feel that way. Needy and restless and wanting more than just his kisses. “You’d be on your knees in front of me, sucking me off. Licking me like that lollipop.”
I never thought I wanted to do anything like that but the visual he’s putting in my head is making me throb between my thighs. “You think I’d be any good at it?”
“I know you would.” He rolls me over, so he’s lying half on top of me, his mouth on mine, kissing me as if he can’t get enough. I kiss him back with matched enthusiasm, running my hand up and down his lower back, marveling at how smooth he is. How warm.
I want to get closer.
The heater is going full force in the room and I start to get hot. Hotter. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Crew is lying on top of me and he’s as hot as a furnace, I don’t know. I wish I could take off my hoodie. But I didn’t wear a T-shirt underneath and it’s not like I can wear my bralette and my leggings while we’re kissing.
Or maybe I could…
“Fuck this, I’m burning up.” Crew leaps off the bed and goes to turn down the heat before he rips off his hoodie, revealing he doesn’t have a shirt on underneath his either. I sit up, blatantly staring at him, my gaze darting everywhere, not sure where to land first.
All the air seems to back up in my throat, leaving me unable to speak. His body is beautiful. There’s no other way to describe it. Broad shoulders. Wide, firm chest. Sculpted pecs and the lightest bit of chest hair in the center. Not a lot. Just enough to make me curious.
Make me want to touch it.
His stomach is washboard flat, and ripples with muscle when he moves. There’s a thin path of dark hair just below his navel, trailing into the waistband of his sweats, and I’m suddenly filled with the urge to follow that path with my fingers. Slip my hand beneath the front of his sweats. Touch his thick, hot—
“You’re staring, Birdy.” His deep voice settles between my legs, pulsating. Reminding me of what he did to me with his fingers the last time we were together.
A shiver moves through me at the memory.
“You’re shirtless, Crew.”
He glances down at himself, rubbing his hand across his rib cage before he returns his gaze to mine. “Does it bother you?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m just—”
“Shocked?”
“I didn’t expect it.” I squeeze my thighs together, feeling…
Achy.
Needy.
“I don’t want to watch this movie anymore.” He leans over and grabs his laptop, setting it on top of his desk. He doesn’t rejoin me on the bed.