Page 80 of Campus Crush
With a grunt, Foster increased his thrusts and then stilled completely, his body stiff as he shuddered out his release.
He collapsed next to me, keeping our bodies so close I wasn’t sure where he ended and I began.
My voice was quiet, but sated, when I broke the silence. “Was that good for you?”
“Are you serious? Fuck, Abby. That was incredible.” He turned onto his side. “It’s never been like that for me.” He rested his forehead against mine. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.”
“Foster,” I whispered, those three little words on the tip of my tongue.
He kissed me, his tongue slipping through my lips andsliding against mine. When he pulled back, I was once again breathless.
“Don’t say it yet. What we just experienced was intense, and when we say those words to each other, I don’t want it to be after your mind is flooded with serotonin and endorphins from mind-blowing sex, okay?”
“Okay.”
I wouldn’t say the words yet, but that didn’t change that I felt them to my very core.
THIRTY-NINE
The next morning, I woke up to a text from Gram asking if I was coming to Sunday dinner. I glanced over at a sleeping Foster. He looked younger, more carefree in his sleep. But he was still disheveled from last night, and the sight of him made heat curl low in my belly.
I considered waking him up for round two, except there was something more important than sex that I wanted from him.
I pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
“Mmm.” His arm wrapped around me and pulled me flush against his body. “I could get used to waking up like this,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
I closed my eyes and snuggled deeper against him, soaking in his warmth for a second before I worked up the courage to speak. “Foster, can I ask you something?”
He opened one eye and then the other when he must’ve seen the serious expression on my face. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if maybe you’d come to Sunday dinner with me tonight at my grandma’s house?”
The smile that spread across his face was so bright itcould light up the entire hockey house. “Are you asking me to meet your family?”
I nibbled my lip. “Yeah.” Why was I so nervous about this?
Maybe because I’d never brought a guy home to meet Gram before, or even talked about liking guys before.
This was a big step for me.
Seemed to be the theme of the weekend.
He hugged me tighter and dropped a tender kiss to my forehead. “I’d be honored. What time should I pick you up?”
And just like that, all my worry about seeing Gram and facing the reality that she might be seriously sick dissipated because no matter what, I wouldn’t be alone.
My nerves ramped up as Foster pulled into my grandmother’s driveway that evening. The familiar farmhouse looked exactly as it always did—weathered white paint, wraparound porch with the swing my grandfather had built decades ago—but everything felt different with Foster beside me.
I knew he came from a rich family, and while I didn’t think he’d judge me for coming from more humble beginnings, it felt like bringing him really put a microscope on our different upbringings.
“You okay?” Foster asked, turning off the engine. “Your leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since we left campus.”
I glanced down and then put a hand over my knee to stop from jittering. I gave him a sheepish smile. “I didn’t realize I was doing that.”
Foster reached across the console and took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Hey, look at me.” When I did, his eyes were warm and steady. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
I squeezed his hand. “Thank you again for coming.”
