Page 11 of Crave

I hang up before he can respond. Rolling onto my stomach, I rock against my hand, dreaming about all those cocks begging for attention. I imagine Damian’s face as he orgasms. And I rub my swollen clit until I finally, finally come.

*

The next Friday night, I walk across campus to Damian’s apartment. His roommate’s out of town. The night is warm, but I shiver with anticipation.

I told him yes.

He said he’ll take care of everything.

When I pass a window, I check my reflection. It’s nothing fancy — there’s no point in dressing up for tonight. I’m going to be spending a lot of time on my knees. But I look cute. My long brown hair’s pulled into a ponytail, and my tank top and leggings show off my body. I’m ready to run a marathon, if that marathon involves a lot of cleavage.

At Damian’s front door, I lift my hand to knock, then pause.

Behind his front door, five men are waiting. Not just five cocks; there are people attached. Maybe it was a mistake to do this sober.

Or maybe it’s all an elaborate ruse on Damian’s part to get me over here. The door will swing open and he’ll pop out of a giant birthday cake, stripper-style.

Surprise! It’s just you and me. The other guys couldn’t make it. But now that you’re here…

I rap firmly on the door.

Damian opens it. No one’s behind him in the living room.

Instead of our usual hug, we just stare at each other. The air is thick between us.

“Are you sure about this, Alana?” he asks softly.

He looks delicious. I eye his T-shirt and jeans, his broad shoulders, his bare feet. His messy dark hair, falling over his forehead. His brown eyes, gleaming with anticipation, but also caring. He’d call this off in a heartbeat if I wanted him to.

I put my hand on his chest, and he swallows. His skin is hot through his thin cotton tee.

“Where are the other guys?”

“In my room.”

“Hell, yes, I’m sure.” I roll my shoulders back, aware of his eyes dropping down my body. “I’m offended you’d even ask.”

“I had to.” He grins. “You look amazing. Come on.”

He takes my hand and pulls me toward his bedroom. I open my mouth to remind him that I’m doing the touching tonight, not being touched.

But his hand feels so nice, and what comes out instead is, “I look amazing, huh?”

“Mm-hm. Fucking hot.”

I open his bedroom door.

Five guys look up at me.

Instead of sitting naked in a row, they’re fully dressed and grouped around the room. They lounge on Damian’s bed, his desk chair, against his dresser. Like he said, they’re all strangers to me, and I don’t see a flicker of recognition in any of their eyes.

What I do see is relief. Arousal. Surprise.

One guy was scrolling through his phone when I opened the door. He shoves it in his pocket and sits up straight.

“Holy shit,” another one murmurs. “You’re actually here. We thought Damian was shitting us. And you’re hot—”

“Shh.” I put a finger to my lips. He looks startled, but stops talking. The guy next to him snickers.

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