“These are amazing notes,” he murmurs.
“Yeah, Ivy was nice enough to give them to me.”
He glances over at me, and his eyes fall to my chest. I follow his gaze down and find my nipples pebbled.Shit.
“Eyes up here,” I whisper.
He flicks his gaze to mine, and for a moment, I find heat in them before he shakes his head. “Sorry. They’re just…sorry.”
“Men and boobs,” I tease, rolling my eyes.
He laughs. “I’m a guy. I notice these things, especially on a hot girl.”
“Ah, so you look at half of the female population’s boobs.”
“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ and going back to the notes. “Just yours.”
I stare at the side of his face for a little too long because he looks back at me and shakes the notes. “Eyes on the homework, Avery.”
“Right.” I clear my throat and pick up my textbook. I reread a paragraph three times before my eyes start roaming his backside. His shirt is tight enough to reveal the muscles in his back, and they flex every time he leafs through the notes.
Every part of my body thrums right now, and I squirm as a need arises between my legs.
“You can touch, you know,” he whispers while he jots down some notes on his laptop.
“Touch what?” I whisper back.
“Me.”
“That would be distracting.”
He looks over at me, and we stare at each other for a while. “You’re already distracted,” he points out huskily.
I wet my bottom lip as he flips over, homework forgotten, and rests his hands behind his head. My eyes skate along his body, all the way down to the erection pressing against his jeans.
I gulp.
“How about this? You get to touch me until it gets too heated.”
“I don’t know…”
“Touch me, Avery.”
I flick my gaze back to his and find that the heat has returned and that he’s completely serious. Being braver than I feel, I reach and slip my hand under his shirt. His skin ripples as my fingers trace over his abs, but he holds still, letting me explore.
When my hand travels higher, he lifts himself slightly off the bed and takes off his shirt. Saliva pools in my mouth as his abs contract until he lies back down. His body is that of a god and my mouth salivates at the sight of him.
“Stop,” he whispers.
“Your turn?”
He nods and props himself up on an elbow. He reaches and brushes his finger against my ankle. Slowly, his hand travels up my calf as I count my breaths to keep them even. His fingers leave a burning sensation as they travel, and when he starts touching my inner thigh, my breathing quickens despite my efforts. He skates his hand by my shorts, toying with the hem of them.
“Stop,” I hiss out.
“Again?”
I nod, and he lies back down. I press my hand to his forearm, skating it up his arm and leisurely over his shoulder. His skin is like butter, smooth and silky. I let my fingers trail over his collarbone, and his eyes flutter when I travel between his pecks. My hand goes lower, dipping between each ab, and when I reach his belly button, I circle it. His stomach hollows out and then flexes. I’m mesmerized by the way his body responds, and I push them even lower, toying with the waistband of his jeans.
