Page 69 of Setting Limits

“I know, I really do. But this was their first dorm party, and we just felt like they should experience it once. Poor girl was just celebrating breaking up with her loser boyfriend. You probably know him, his name was um…” He looks down and snaps a few times like he’s trying really hard to remember.

“Oh! Tristan. Right?” He turns to me, and I nod vehemently, like the sureness of that will help us get out of here.

“Wait, Tristan?” Bex steps forward.

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Yeah, he’s a total asshat. I can understand why you’d want to party after ending things with that douchecanoe.” The bitterness that hangs off her tone makes me wonder if she, too, had a dating run in with him that ended poorly.

“So, what do you think? Let us go?”

All three of them look at each other and seem to have some sort of silent conversation.

“Okay. Everybody can go. But…know that if we have to come back, everybody is getting written up.”

“Oh, understood, as we should. This is a very fair warning, and if we don’t take it seriously, we deserve the punishment. Thank you, guys.”

With a small nod, the three leave. Once they’re gone, everybody cheers for Wes.

“Okay, but they’re right. Everybody needs to clear out.”

Though most people grumble, they listen, some taking their filled cups or cans on their way. Aside from Marissa and Justine, we’re the last ones here.

“Oh my God, Wes, thank you so much for saving us!” Marissa throws herself at him, and he barely catches her in a slight hug, pushing her away after about a second. Now I’m not sure I’m happy he savedallof us.

“You’re welcome, just doing my part. Come on, sweetness. Time to get you to bed.” He turns to me and takes my hand without a second glance at Marissa, Lochlyn and Shay hot on our heels.

“Nice job, Wes. Really, I was worried there for a second.” Lochlyn’s voice is still tense, and I’m sure Shay’s a little shaken.

“Oh, you should know there’s little I can’t talk myself out of. Remember the time I totally deserved that speeding ticket?”

“Excuse me now?” I nearly put a crick in my neck with how fast I turn to look up at him.

“I’ll tell you about it sometime. It’s still early. Want to head back to the apartment and catch a movie? Or you tired, sweetness? It’s close to your bedtime.” Wes starts talking to the group but turns his attention to me at the end.

“Whose night is it at the apartment tonight? I figured Chelsea would be more drunk than Shay or I and that you guys would stay here.” Lochlyn juts his chin in my direction.

“You guys can have it. I don’t mind staying here. I like the hustle and bustle. Kind of miss it, actually.”

What he really means is that the noise we make blends in with the noises around us since dorms are noisy places with thin walls.

And with that thought, a throb settles in my clit, and I readjust my stance. Wes chuckles lightly next to me, knowing what I just did and likely why.

I half fake a yawn, trying to get the point across that it’s time for them to go. I’m sure I’m not fooling anybody, but it’s worth a shot. “Can we take a pass on movie night? I’m kind of tired. We should do it soon, though. It’s been a while, and it was fun.” It was also the first time Wes kissed me, so some reminiscing would be kind of nice too.

Once Shay and Lochlyn depart, Wes practically throws me through the threshold to my room before he plants his lips on mine, hands on my hips, and walks me backward until we reach my bed. He lifts me with ease, standing between my parted legs and sliding his palms up my thighs.

“I’m so fucking happy that party was broken up. I thought I was going to explode watching you and not being able to be inside you.”

His fingers slide under the hem of my shirt and start crawling up my sides. My bra is unhooked and flying off with my top within seconds. Wes’s gaze is swirling with desire and need, and I can feel his hard length against my clit.

My need for him compounds, and I grip his shirt as I pull him to me, lying down on the bed and taking him with me.

The alcohol in my system is warming me from the inside out. Combined with the heat from Wes’s body, I’m far too hot and start tearing at my clothes, his clothes, any article of clothing I can find.

But my fumbling fingers fail me, and I get Wes’s jeans unbuttoned and halfway unzipped before he grabs my wrists in his hand. Holding them above my head, he blows gently along my stomach and my chest, the cool air helping to bring my internal temperature down.

It’s just another situation where he knows what I need without having to voice it. At least partially. My need for him has still gone unmet.

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