“Hello, ladies.”
“I didn’t think you were coming.” Tina puts her hands on her hips. “Why did you change your mind?”
Before I can answer, I hear the tent zipper and Ivy steps out. With her skinny jeans, short boots and a PSU hoodie under her jean jacket, she’s looking pretty damn hot. “Because I twisted his arm,” she says.
“Yeah, it hurt.”
She comes over to us with a funny little smile on her face. At first, it seems like she’s going to rub up against me, staking her claim for Tina and Sara’s benefit, but no. She slides her arm around my waist and then, when my guard is down, she pokes me right in the ribs. Where I’m really ticklish.
“Aaaaah.” I grab her hands, pull them away and lock them behind her.
She laughs. “Baby.”
Tina has a curious expression on her face as she looks Ivy up and down. “Is it just the two of you at this campsite?”
“The White House guys are there,” I say, letting go of Ivy and pointing to two army-sized tents next door. “Kelly and Reece are on the other side of them.”
“And beyond them,” Ivy says, “are some people from my floor.”
“Can we put up our tent next to yours, then?” Tina asks. “The camp host says each site can sleep up to six people.”
I glance at Ivy to see what she thinks, but I can’t read her expression. Is she indifferent about it or pissed?
Since we’re all packed tightly together, it wouldn’t be much different than if they were in an adjacent campsite, so I tell Tina okay. Most likely, we’ll all be hanging out in one big group anyway, eating and partying.
A few hours later, with the campsite as situated as it’s going to get and our alcohol locked in the trunk of Ivy’s car, we’re sitting on our blanket on the grassy hillside overlooking the stage and sharing an outrageously expensive bottle of water that we bought inside, because they wouldn’t let us bring in our own.
“Having your groupies right next to us better not screw things up,” Ivy says.
Screw what things up? I want to ask, although I have a pretty damn good idea what she means. I take a drink and hand the bottle to her. “They’re not my groupies.”
“Ex-girlfriends, then.”
“Girlfriend,” I say, enunciating the d. “Singular. Uno. Besides, Tina and I never dated, so you can’t really classify her as an ex-girlfriend.”
“Ex-fuck-buddy, then?”
I give her a sheepish smile. “I guess you could say that.”
Something mischievous glints in her eye and she comes closer. “You guess? Does that mean you don’t know?”
“Guys can be pretty fucking clueless,” I say, playing along with her.
She climbs onto my lap, facing me, her arms around my neck. I put my hands on her butt and scoot her closer, growing hard as she slides over me.
“Really?” Then she kisses me, slipping her tongue in my mouth.
She tastes like the wine cooler she had back at the campsite. Only a few thin layers of fabric are preventing me from being inside her right now. I grab her hips and— Fuuuuck. She grinds against me. I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t turn me on to be doing this around all these people. This weekend is already shaping up to be better than I expected.
She pulls away from me slightly. “So. Are we just fuck buddies, too?”
“I can’t believe you’d even say that.” A surge of emotion rushes through me. I know she’s just teasing, but I don’t want her to even joke about it.
As I open my mouth to tell her what she means to me, something behind us draws her attention. She lets out a little scream and jumps up. “Dani!”
I crank my head around to see a group of people approaching. I recognize a few of them from her dorm. “Hey,” I say, getting up and moving our blanket over to make room for theirs.
After Ivy hugs them and returns to my side, I pull her close and entwine my fingers in hers. “We’re not fuck buddies, Ives,” I whisper in her ear. “You mean so much more to me than that.”
She squeezes my hands. “I know. I was just kidding.”
The opening band starts playing, and soon we’re clapping along with the lead singer as the bright orange sun sets behind the stage.
Ivy has managed to soften my heart, daring me to dream again.
And it scares the shit out of me.
Ivy
Jon and I are pretty wasted by the time we stumble to our tent. After the last band finished up, we followed everyone along the trail back to the campground and continued partying at the White House campsite. I don’t know what it is, but the biggest parties always seem to begin and end with them.
After brushing our teeth at one of the communal sinks scattered throughout the campground, I don’t even have the tent zipped shut all the way when Jon grabs me from behind. He’s already naked from the waist down.
“How did you do that so fast?” I ask, laughing.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day.” His words are a little slurred. “I need you.”
“Shhhh. Someone will hear. There are literally a ton of people around us.” Including a couple of girls in the next tent who are probably wishing they were here instead of me.
“You think I give a shit?”
I pull the shirt over my head and slip out of my pajama bottoms, thinking this will distract him and get him to quiet down.
He groans loudly. “I want to fuck you so bad, Ivy, it’s not even funny.”
Someone nearby laughs. It sounds like James.
“Oh my God, Jon,” I whisper-laugh. “You need to shut up.”
I climb into the double sleeping bag and pull him down on top of me. But instead of grabbing one of the condoms we brought, he slides down my stomach.
Oh my God. Oh my God. I know what he’s planning to do.
His long-fingered hands are warm against my knees as he pushes my legs apart.
“I need to taste you.” His breath is hot against my sensitive skin. My whole body quivers in anticipation. Then, spreading my inner folds with his fingers, he licks me. Long and agonizingly slow.
I hiss, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as I arch my back.
“Is this good?” His voice is low and husky, vibrating against me.
“Um, yes,” I manage to say. My knees are trembling on either side of his head. “It’s...it’s perfect.”
“Okay. Because I want more.”
He slips a finger inside me, moving it in and out. My inner muscles tighten around him, and a storm of pressure gathers in my lower belly. I am seriously on the edge right now. I’m not going to last much—
He gently draws my clit between his teeth and begins to suckle. And that’s when I pretty much lose it.
I buck my hips and cry out his name as a massive climax roars through me. It feels like I’m on fire, every inch of me burns.
“Ah, yes!” he groans. “There it is.”
With his tongue against me, I ride out my orgasm, vaguely aware that I need to be quiet. As the tremors echo away, I lie back against the pillows, and Jon slides up my body, kissing me as he goes. My hips. My stomach. My breasts. His tongue swirls around one nipple then the other.
“I want you inside me now,” I tell him.
“That can be arranged,” he says.
Soon, the broad tip of his penis probes my inner thigh. After a few tries, he finds my center. I raise my hips to meet him and with a powerful thrust, he enters me, filling me completely. So completely, in fact, that it seems as if he’s pressing against the inside of my belly button.
“Oh my God,” he says, a little too loudly. “You feel so good.”
Someone laughs again. And then there’s a whistle. But I don’t care. I’m too drunk and numb from that orgasm to really give a crap. Hell, most of the people here are probably doing the exact same thing we are. And those who aren’t are wishing they were.