I wasn’t introduced to this guy. I would have remembered. Definitely. No one forgets a face like that. And his smell…he smells like he dips himself in pheromones with a mix of body wash.
Slowly, he rights me, and burning with embarrassment, I turn to face him, taking him all in. He’s wearing this year’s Smithson University T-shirt, which clings to his body, revealing the tight and corded muscles in his arms and chest. He’s taller than me, forcing me to look up to take in his hair. It’s dark and styled messily, and if it doesn’t make me swoon…
Remembering that he asked me a question, I tuck my curled, brown hair behind my ear and nod while glancing down at my bare feet. I curl my toes into the carpet as I answer, “Yes. Um. Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“What’s your name?” he calls over the music.
I flick my gaze back to him. He’s studying my face, lingering on my rosy cheeks and my bottom lip tucked between my teeth. God, he has to know what kind of effect he has on me. And I don’t know what possesses me, but I decide to lie about who I am. “Sarah,” I answer.
Seriously. What is wrong with me? But it’s too late to take it back.
Maybe I did it on purpose. Maybe I don’t want to be known as the popular guy’s sister. All the other guys seem to think I’m off limits, and I really don’t want this guy to.
I’m too drunk to ponder on it long, however, because a grin spreads across his face, revealing straight, white teeth.
He’s far too beautiful for his own good, and I think he knows it.
“Do you go to school here, or do you know someone and got invited?”
“Uh.” I glance around. “Both?”
“Is that a question?” he asks, bending closer to my ear because, I swear, the music just amped up in volume.
“Um.”
His lips press closer to my ear, his breath feathering my earlobe. “I’m just teasing you, Sarah.”
A shiver overcomes my body, and he chuckles. At that moment, someone bumps into my back, forcing me forward and into his chest. He catches me before I nearly tip sideways, his hands going to my curvy waist. If I wasn’t drunk, I’d be self-conscious about being touched there. Me and my weight have some issues that I’ll probably never work out.
Instead of stiffening in his embrace, I sort of, um, melt against him, hands on his chest, head tucked under his chin. God, what am I doing?
My heart beats rapidly as his hands slide higher. I tip my head back to peer at his face, and he looks down at me as I whisper, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he murmurs back, eyes searching mine.
Something passes between us. A silent, drunken conversation that I’ve literally never had before but, I swear to God, it’s the best feeling in the world. It kicks up the long-dead butterflies in my stomach, and before I know what I’m doing, I lift myself on my toes and press my lips to his perfect ones.
I expect him to endure it for a moment. I expect him to gently peel me off of him because, let’s face it, there are far more skinnier and good-looking girls here besides me. But he doesn’t.He…he kisses me back. My heartbeat sores into my ears, and the party fades away as we stand there, lips locked, hands beginning to roam each other’s backs.
His lips slide over mine, and when his hand reaches up and cups my jaw, I moan into his mouth. It’s a simple gesture, but I’ve never been kissed this way. Not bythe bastard, and not by anyone before him.
He chuckles against my mouth, and it’s honestly the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. And then his tongue is teasing my bottom lip, and I open up for him. Our tongues dive into each other’s mouths and holy shit. Despite the taste of jungle juice, he tastes just as good as he smells.
I grip the back of his shirt, leaning into the kiss. My lips and tongue move faster of their own accord, but he doesn’t mind. He responds in kind, his other hand exploring my backside.
When I’m out of breath, I break the kiss. And boldly—because alcohol makes me strong—I ask, “Want to get out of here?”
My pussy literally clenches as I wait for his answer.
I don’t have to wait long before he nods. But then, he says with a frown, “I don’t live anywhere near here, and my friend would kill me if I drove right now.”
Grinning, I grab his hand. “I live right across the hall.” It’s like it was meant to be.
He glances around once—for what, I don’t know, but I don’t wait to find out. By the hand, I drag him across the living room, moving between the people, and into the kitchen where the apartment door is. Someone opens it to enter the party with a case of beer in their hands, and as soon as they’re through, I exit with…what’s his name? I don’t think I caught it.
It doesn’t matter.
We stride across the hall and to Ivy’s and my apartment. I open it immediately and tug him inside.
