Page 106 of The Score

“I always know when you’re getting close,” Dean whispers.

“How?” The methodical thrust of his finger is distracting. I start to squirm, my inner muscles bearing down on him as the pleasure intensifies and dances along my heated flesh.

“Your cheeks turn bright red, and your eyes…they glaze over.” His warm mouth skates over my jaw before traveling down my neck. “Your pulse throbs…right here—” He licks the center of my throat “—and your pussy squeezes me so fucking tight, like it’s trying to trap my finger inside of it.”

My breaths go shallow. My mind is foggy. His deep voice and magical hand are all I’m able to focus on, but when he curls his finger and starts moving it faster, my brain shuts down completely.

“That’s it,” Dean says hoarsely. “Come for me, baby.”

I close my eyes and let the sensations take over, gasping softly as the pressure finally releases and I float away on a cloud of bliss. Sighing, I rest my cheek against his pecs while lingering flutters of pleasure sweep through my body.

“You guys know I’m awake, right?”

Beau’s wry voice triggers a rush of horror mingled with the burn of embarrassment. I bury my face against Dean’s chest, too mortified to look over at the armchair.

“And now I’m hard as a rock,” Beau adds in a jaunty voice. “So I’m just gonna go ahead and ask—any chance of a threesome?”

My head lifts in indignation, but I can’t help but laugh when I see the intrigued gleam in Dean’s eyes.

“Don’t even think about it,” I order, jabbing my finger into his chest. I sit up to fix Beau with the same stern look. “Erase that idea from your pretty head, Maxwell. Because it’s not happening.”

His smile is downright saucy. “Tonight, or ever?”

“Ever.”

“Give me one good reason why not,” Beau challenges.

“Because a) I don’t want to, and b) picture this: it’s ten years from now. I’m a Hollywood A-lister, a three-time Academy Award winner, the most sought-after actress ever to grace the silver screen…and then the latest issue ofPeoplemagazine hits the stands. And you know what the headline reads?” I move my hand through the air as if I’m spelling out the headline— “Celebrity debauchery exposed. Allie Hayes, college threesome queen.”

Beau spells out his own headline. “Super Bowlchamp Beau Maxwell quoted as saying, ‘best night of my life.’”

I sigh and turn to Dean, who’s clearly trying not to laugh. “Andnowit’s time for bed. Say good night to your friend Beau, sweetie.”

“Good night, Beau,” Dean says obediently.

24

ALLIE

Dean and I arrive back at campus at noon the next day. Since the team bus leaves at one o’clock for their game in Burlington, he should be hightailing it out of the parking lot if he wants to go home and change first. But he stays rooted in the driver’s seat.

“What’s wrong?” I can’t decipher his expression.

“Can I see you tonight?” His voice is husky, and there’s an inexplicable chord of…something…in it.

“I have rehearsal, so it depends on when Steven lets us out. Call me when you’re back from Vermont and we’ll see where I’m at?”

He nods. Still doesn’t move.

“Do you mind helping me with my suitcase?”

Another nod.

I fight a pang of uneasiness as we get out of the car. There’s no one in the parking lot to see us unload my bag, but that isn’t what’s making me apprehensive. It’s the intensity Dean is radiating. It’s likehe wants to say something but doesn’t know how to broach the subject.

“Everything okay?” I ask lightly.

Those green eyes sweep over me so intently that I feel self-conscious. I know my hair is a wavy mess, and I’m pretty sure there’s a tiny zit forming on my chin. I hope that’s not what he’s staring at.

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