Page 65 of His Reckless Freshman

I mean, like, wow. His lips on my breasts were like nothing I had ever experienced before. These new sensations sizzled through me—an electric current that I’m sure could become quite addictive, which is why I definitely have to see him another time.

Although I probably shouldn’t. Guilt keeps trying to burn me, to steal the joy from my night.

But… I want to experience it all over again… and maybe more.

My inner thighs twitch.

Do I want that?

Yes. I just got myself a little nervous, is all. Next time, I’m sure I’ll have more confidence, because I do want to know what an orgasm feels like. They certainly sound good. From what I’ve been reading in these novels and what I’ve seen on Bridgerton, they look heady and addictive.

Ben keeps saying everyone deserves one… and that includes me, right?

But do I?

Guilt slaps me on the back of the head again, and I’m thrown into silent torment between wanting to go for it and knowing I probably shouldn’t. But it’s not like we’re actually having sex. He’s just touching me a little. I can get away with that, right?

“Morning.” Nylah’s voice has that morning croak to it, and I whip my head to look at her.

She smiles at me and I smile back, not trusting my voice to behave itself and settling for a closed-mouth smile instead.

Her expression dims slightly, but she keeps talking anyway. “You got in late last night. I didn’t even hear you come in. Did you have a good time?”

I swallow, begging my eyes not to bulge and give me away. “Uh-huh.” Licking my lips, I throw my covers back and quickly stand, using the bathroom as an excuse to get away from the conversation.

I can’t tell her what I’ve been up to.

I can’t tell anyone!

And I trust Ben not to either. I can’t imagine him wanting to brag that he’s teaching some clueless freshman about the wonders of sex… but not actually having sex with her.

Rolling my eyes, I try not to think about how absurd this all sounds as I wash my face and get ready for the day.

“Hey, want to grab breakfast with me downstairs?” Nylah asks, her voice hopeful as I finish getting dressed.

I glance across the room, kind of wanting to say no, but also not wanting to be rude.

“Sure,” I rasp, and her smile grows.

Weird.

I don’t understand why she’d want to hang with me. She’s so cool. I’m surprised she hasn’t already made a dozen friends and they’re not all texting her to meet up. I’m also surprised when we sit down to eat that she hasn’t greeted half the dining hall by the time we take our seats.

I can’t work this girl out.

Part of me wants to know her story, because that’s what I do. That’s what I love about life—discovering people’s stories.

But if she tells me hers, will she then expect to hear mine?

Eeeep! Bad idea! Don’t say a word!

“Hey, um…” She scoops up a forkful of eggs and smiles at me… again! “What do you have going on today?”

Why is she asking me this stuff? Why is she even interested in me?

Because she’s your roommate, dummy. Would you just answer her already?

I shrug and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, trying to look disinterested because I can’t go giving myself away. My insides are kind of sparkling, and it’s taking everything in me not to blurt, “This hot junior is teaching me about sex, and even though I have class, I’d rather ditch them all to meet up with him again! Because it felt so good and maybe just a touch naughty, which somehow makes it enticing, and I know I shouldn’t but I’m going to anyway.”