Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

CAMMIE

T he bathroom door closes with a quiet snick. A few seconds later, the water turns on. I have a pretty good idea about what’s happening behind that door. I’ve been lying here, pretending to sleep while Chase rustled around beside me. And then he groaned my name.

Groaned it .

The sound was all deep and needy and desperate. There is no way I can fall asleep knowing he’s probably whacking off. Possibly to thoughts of me. Probably to thoughts of me .

After being pummeled into the dirt when I realized that Chase has legitimately never even noticed me until last week even though he sat on me at the beginning of the semester, my almost nonexistent ego has grown three full sizes in the last five minutes. So what if fate and bad planning are what threw us together? He sure is noticing me now.

Maybe it’s only because he’s forced to be my roommate. But he has friends here. Teammates like Brody and Gage. Surely, he could have crashed in one of their rooms if he were completely opposed to being trapped with me tonight.

I roll onto my back and consider helping myself out while Chase is doing the same in the bathroom. But the likelihood that I’ll finish before he does is slim to none.

I don’t want to be the wallflower who’s so invisible I get sat on in class anymore. I don’t want to be Essie’s weird little sister. I want to be the hot warrior princess who can toss around a two-hundred-plus-pound hockey player. I can be forward. I can channel my inner Arwen, just like O said. I can go for what I want. Which is…what exactly?

To watch Chase get himself off? I conjure that image for a moment. Chase’s big hand curved around what I imagine will be an equally big cock, stroking away. Based on the way everything below the waist starts pinging, I’m definitely down with at least watching if he is.

Decision made, I throw off the covers and pull the hoodie over my head, tossing it on the bed. I will not sit on the bench and twiddle my thumbs while Chase is getting himself off in the bathroom. The bow I tied on my university-issued pants comes undone with a quick tug and they immediately drop to the floor.

I cross the room and grab the door handle. But then I pause. I can’t just bust in there. I’m about to knock when his muffled groan filters through the door.

“Ah, fuck. That’s it.” A low groan follows.

I knock softly. “Chase?”

“Fuck. Just give me a minute.”

My mouth goes dry and my fingers twitch as I grip the doorknob. I can do this. I want to do this. I slowly, carefully, quietly turn the knob. Taking a deep breath, I open it a crack.

Chase has one hand planted on the vanity. The other grips his impressive cock. I was so right about the size. It matches the rest of him. His gaze shifts toward the door and when his eyes meet mine, I surprise myself by not issuing an apology, slamming the door shut, and making a hasty retreat under the covers.

Instead, I lick my lips and channel my inner seductress, which I was unaware existed at all until this very moment. “Please don’t stop. ”

Chase’s eyes flare as his cheeks turn pink. But he doesn’t make a move to tuck himself back into his pajama pants, which I take as a green light. He seems confused, but also intrigued.

My eyes drop as he gives his cock a tentative stroke. I push the door open, my gaze raking over him greedily. He’s just so fucking beautiful. Broad shoulders, defined biceps, tight forearms, thick chest, and rolling abs. His pajama pants have been pushed down so one deliciously round globe of tight ass is on display.

His thumb smooths over the head as he drags his fist back down. My entire body heats, a flush working its way from the tip of my toes to the top of my head.

I lean casually against the doorframe and finger the bottom of my shirt. “If you’re getting off, so am I.”

He blinks twice, licks his bottom lip, and nods. “Yeah. Yes. That…I want that.”

His eagerness bolsters my confidence. I slowly drag the hem of the stupidly oversized shirt up, revealing bare thighs, but stop when I reach the apex of them. I slide a single finger between my folds and circle my clit.

Chase’s rhythm falters, eyes flipping between my face and where my finger dips between my thighs. He pats the top of the vanity. “You should sit up here. It’ll be better for you.”

As I hop up on the cold marble, I notice that my underwear is no longer tucked under my shirt. Interesting. I hike the shirt up, gathering it at my waist and tying a knot so it doesn’t get in the way. I can’t believe I’m about to have a mutual masturbation session. With the hot hockey player I’ve been lusting after for the past two months. This better not be a fever dream.

Chase seems to stop breathing as I part my thighs and reveal myself.

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans.

My ego inflates a little more. I turn Chase on. Me . Despite how wet I already am, I slip my index finger between my lips. Chase’s gaze turns molten as I lower my hand between my thighs and gently circle my clit.

“Fuck. Wait.” He steps closer, chest heaving. His eyes are wild as they move from my face to where my finger presses against my hot button, paralyzed with fear and uncertainty. Did I get this all wrong? Misread the signs?

“I want to make you come.” He rolls his shoulders back. “If you want me to, that is.”

I cock my head, considering my words carefully. I go with the most brazen, blush-inducing phrase I’ve ever uttered to a guy I want to get with. “You want to touch my precious?” Except I meant to say pussy , but it’s too late to take it back.

“Fuck. Yes.” His grip on his cock tightens and his eyes fall closed as he exhales in a rush. When they open again, they’re an inferno of lust. “Please say that again.”

His reaction spurs me on. I slip my finger lower, circling my entrance. “Do you want to finger-fuck my precious, Chase?”

“Absolutely, Cameron.” He nods vigorously. “I one million percent want to finger-fuck your precious.” He moves to stand between my thighs. “Can I kiss you first, though?”

“Okay.”

He releases his cock and cups my face between his warm palms. I push away the thought his penis hand is now resting against the side of my neck. His expression is intense as he leans in. He’s tentative at first, lips brushing gently over mine.

When I lick his top lip, he groans and tips his head, parting for me. Our tongues meet and tangle. I trail my fingers over the glorious dips and planes of his cut body. I’m making out with a hockey player. A really hot, well-endowed hockey player. This is a check mark on my bucket list.

I half expect him to be aggressive, but he’s completely the opposite. He’s soft, gentle, and sweet, our tongues brushing and exploring. As far as first kisses go, this is an award winner.

While we make out, I follow the line bisecting his abs past his navel. My fingertips brush the satin-smooth skin of his erection, causing him to groan and his fingers to tighten in my hair.

He breaks the kiss, his breath leaving him on a ragged pant as my fingers curve around his length. I feel like a damn goddess as his gaze drops.

“Ah fuck, that feels so good, Cameron.”

“Cammie, I go by Cammie.”

“Cammie, your hand is fucking bliss,” he declares.

Both of our gazes drop as I continue to stroke him, thumb sweeping over the head when I reach the crown.

His hand settles on my knee and slowly trails up. My breath catches as his fingertips brush my inner thigh. I’m still stroking him as he dips between my legs and skims my clit. He makes another needy noise as he drags his finger through my slit and circles my entrance.

Normally, reciprocal masturbation is fraught with awkwardness, especially with someone new, but this is just…hot. His mouth drops open, and his tongue peeks out as he eases a single finger inside me. I moan—at the look of desire on his gorgeous face, at the feel of his finger curling against that sensitive place inside me, at the heat of his cock in my hand.

His gaze lifts and a slow smile spreads across his very kissable lips. “Such a pretty precious.”

I wrap my free hand around the back of his neck and drag his mouth back to mine. This kiss isn’t soft and sweet like the first one. It’s fraught with lust and need. We keep kissing and touching. My hand moving over his cock in time with the pump and curl of his finger inside me. He adds a second, stretching me, filling me. We moan and pant, shift and grip and caress.

I break the kiss long enough to say, “One more finger, please.”

“You’re so tight, though. You’re sure?”

“My pussy can handle it,” I pant.

“Fuck, I love that,” he groans.

We both watch as his fingers slide out and he adds a third, pushing back in slowly. I let go of his hair, lick my index finger, and rub circles on my clit.

“That’s so fucking sexy. You’re so fucking sexy, Cammie,” Chase groans.

“So are you,” I murmur. “I’m getting close.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flare with excitement. “Tell me what you need so I can get you there.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing.” I want this so badly. To come while he’s touching me, to have this experience as fodder for my self-gratification sessions. To be the girl who isn’t afraid to take what she wants.

He curls his fingers. “Like this?”

“That’s it. Right there. That’s the spot.” I keep stroking him and my clit while he rubs the spot from the inside. “Such a good boy,” I murmur.

I bite my lip, because I didn’t mean to say that last part aloud.

His smile turns devilish. “You gonna come all over my fingers, like a good girl, Cammie?”

And that’s it. I’m done for. I moan his name, long and loud as pleasure pulses through me in glorious waves. For a moment I lose my rhythm, too caught up in the sensation washing through me. But as soon as I have control over my limbs again, I tighten my grip and stroke him in earnest.

He grips the edge of the vanity, hips jerking as he angles his erection toward the sink and comes all over the marble.

I wait for the awkwardness to hit post-orgasm, or for him to get all weird about it, but he drops his forehead to my shoulder and turns until his nose brushes my neck and his lips follow. “That was so much fun.”

I laugh. “It absolutely was.”

“Wanna cuddle and try to get a little more sleep?”

“I could be persuaded.”