He steadied her as she straddled his hips, rubbing the head of his cock up and down her slit.
“Ready for a real pussy?” She teased him, making circles against her entrance. He didn’t say anything. Instead he grabbed her hips, thrusting up, making her cry out in surprise as he buried himself into her wetness.
“Oh,” he breathed, eyes closing, his whole body sensation centered between his legs, spreading outward in waves. “Easy…”
“You can’t come again that fast,” she teased, rolling her hips.
“Don’t bet on it.” He groaned. “You feel so good.”
“So if I did this…” She began to rock back and forth. “You just might…”
“Fuck!” he moaned, grabbing her hips, trying to keep her still. She was so hot, so fucking hot inside, wet molten lava massaging his cock.
“How about this?” She squeezed her muscles and his eyes flew open in surprise.
“Val,” he warned, his breath coming faster, panting now.
“What?” she taunted, biting her lip, grinding her hips into his. “What are you gonna do?”
He let out a low growl, grabbing her ass and rolling her. She squealed and squirmed as he fucked her, long and deep and hard, his cock pinning her like a spread butterfly on the white sheet.
“Henry!” She hung onto him and pushed him away at the same time, her nails raking over his back, her teeth biting into the soft flesh of his shoulder. He barely noticed, only grunting and thrusting deeper, panting his lust into her ear. “Henry. Henry. Oh fuck, Henry, don’t…I can’t…breathe…oh…now…oh fuck, make me come now!”
He felt her, again, oh yes, again, her pussy spasming, and it was more than enough to send him over the edge. His balls were drawn tight, his dick cocked, aimed and ready, and he exploded deep inside of her contracting cunt, a delicious, fiery milking, emptying himself of whatever fluid might be left in him.
“Oh.” Val breathed, blinking up at the ceiling as Henry threw himself next to her, still gasping for breath. “Wow.”
“Sorry,” he panted, eyes still closed. “You make me…crazy.”
“If that’s crazy…” She laughed. “I like crazy.”
He welcomed her as she snuggled up close, the impossibly soft flesh of her thigh sliding over his. “Are you sure Marcus is going to be okay with this?” It was too late to ask, of course, but the thought of a six-foot-five, two-hundred and fifty pound defensive lineman coming after him was more than a little daunting.
Val snorted. “Marcus is too busy running his little business to care what I do.”
“His business?”
She hesitated and then said, “He’s a bookie. They run the whole thing out of the frat house.”
Henry blinked. “Oh.”
“It’s no wonder he’s always watching the games, right?” She lifted her head, concern in her eyes. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
He shrugged. “Who would I tell?”
They both heard the sound of a key in the lock. Val grabbed the Hudson Bay blanket, wrapping it around her, just as Dean shoved the door open.
“Hey!” Henry protested.
Dean blinked, taking in the scene, Val wrapped in a blanket, Henry completely nude, the Fleshlight still wedged into bed. Dean held up Val’s bra. “The sock wasn’t on the door.”
Val rolled her eyes, standing and grabbing her clothes off the floor and the bra out of Dean’s hand, brushing by him. She held the blanket closed around herself and headed toward the bathroom.
“Sorry, man,” Dean apologized, glancing toward the closed bathroom door.
Henry pulled the sheet over himself as Dean flopped across from him on his own bed.
“Listen, can I ask you a favor?” Dean asked, lowering his voice.
“Sure.” Henry grabbed his boxers off the floor, pulling them on.
Val came out of the bathroom, shrugging on her jacket and finding her purse, her eyes meeting Henry’s. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Wait.” Henry took a few strides toward the door, grabbing her arm. He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.” She rolled her eyes at Dean. “Talk to you later?”
“Absolutely.”
She opened the door, starting out, and then turned back to kiss him on the cheek. “Bye.”
Dean waited until Henry closed the door before asking, “Do you have any money I can borrow?”
Henry frowned, sitting down on his bed. “Not a lot…”
“Dude.” Dean sighed, elbows on knees, putting his head in his hands. “I’m in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I just…” Dean looked up at him, eyes bleary. “Can I borrow three hundred?”
“Three hundred?” Henry’s jaw dropped. How was he going to explain that to his parents? “Can’t you ask your dad?”
“No way.” His roommate threw himself back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m tapped out.”
Dean always had cash-always. There seemed to be an endless supply attached to his debit card. Henry couldn’t believe it. But he’d never seen his friend so desolate before.
“I have to go to the ATM,” Henry said “Can it wait until tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Dean perked up, eyes bright. “Tomorrow? You promise?”
“Sure. What are friends for?” Henry slapped him on the shoulder as he got up. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”
Henry turned the water on, stripping off his boxers, and when he turned to gaze in the mirror, he saw the Hudson Bay blanket folded neatly and left on the sink, and a big heart drawn in lipstick on the mirror with a phone number written in the center. Val’s number.
It’s a bad idea, Henry, he warned himself, moving to smear the number, but in the end, he just couldn’t do it.
Chapter Six
Thanks to an unseasonably warm week in December, the ice in the rink was far too slushy for Henry’s liking, but he wouldn’t have cared if he’d had to skate on water-under Professor Franklin’s tutelage, he was now passing English, off academic probation, and most importantly, the coach had put him on the ice for an actual game!
He thought things couldn’t get any better when he scored his first official college hockey goal-a gorgeous shot that slipped into the five-hole like it had been meant to be-until he saw Libby in the stands. He wouldn’t have seen her if the camera hadn’t panned in on her reaction to the goal and showed it on the screen high above-she was standing and actually dancing in the aisles, her red hair like a beacon the cameraman obviously couldn’t resist.
Henry couldn’t either.
He actually stumbled getting back onto the bench, taking the congratulations from his teammates with a distracted smile, scanning the rink for Libby, finally finding her, still standing in the aisle and waving. At him. He raised his hand, grinning like a fool. It was the first time he’d seen her since that night in the hot tub. He’d called her several times and she hadn’t returned any of them. Had she been coming to games all along? He continued to give her the tickets he’d promised, slipping them under her dorm room door in an envelope, hoping to run into her in the hallway, but he never had.
He usually gave her both tickets, but today he’d given another one to Professor Franklin. His parents hadn’t made it up for a game-he kept putting them off, embarrassed to tell them he’d been benched. But he’d given a ticket to her just that day as they sat in the late afternoon sunshine, working on Henry’s worst nemesis-phonemes.
He’d tried subtlety. “Do you like hockey?”
“Henry, you’re distracting yourself.”
He’d sighed. “I just wondered if you wanted to see me play. My parents can’t make it.”
“Funny, I was going to ask if you wanted to see a movie tonight.” She had smiled when he blinked at her in surprise. They saw a lot of each other lately, but they’d never seen each other outside of a school-type setting. The idea intrigued him. “It’s foreign. Subtitled. I thought it would be a good experience for you.”