Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,65
over mine, his thrusts growing almost desperate. I try to cling to his skin, but it’s useless.
After a few more thrusts he groans my name, his whole body growing rigid as he empties inside of me, his suddenly limp body falling over mine.
Silence falls over us, the only sound our heavy breathing and occasional voices coming from the hallway.
“That was…” he pants, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” I agree.
My body is still shaking from small aftershocks of the orgasm.
Propping his head on his hand, he looks at me, one of his hands smoothing the hair out of my face. “Are you sure about that one-night clause?”
Not so much, but there is no way I’ll say that. It can’t be more. He’s a football player and I’m… well, me. I brush my finger over his lower lip. “It can only be that.”
Instead of being offended, like I thought he would, he wiggles his brows playfully. “At least the night is long.”
“What…”
Nixon thrusts his hips into mine slowly. He’s still inside me, and I swear he’s already at half-mast. Instinctively, my thighs tighten around him.
Oh.
“Another round?”
He shakes his head. “You, Miss Hernandez, are insatiable.”
“Only when it comes to you,” I say, before I can think better of it.
Nixon’s eyes grow darker at my words. “I like the sound of that.”
He pulls out of me, getting rid of the used condom and grabbing a new one. I’m not sure how many of them he has lying handy, or why he carries so many, and I’m not about to ask. However, I will enjoy the benefits.
“Now where were we?” Nixon gets back into bed in all his naked glory. Extending my hands, I trace his firm chest, enjoying the feel of his skin under my palms. I give him a wicked smile. “I think it was my turn to play.”
I push him onto his back, climbing in his lap as I lean down to kiss him.
If I have one night, I might as well make the most of it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
YASMIN
“Where are you?”
“Well, hello to you too,” I say dryly. “How are you doing, Callie? How was your day? Mine’s going well, thank you for asking.”
“Don’t sass me, Yas,” Callie moans. “I need help.”
This has me abruptly stopping in my tracks. “What happened?”
Somebody crashes into me, cussing me like somehow it’s my fault he wasn’t looking where he was walking. I just glare at the guy. He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously close to “bitch.”
Asshole.
“Where are you?” Callie asks, drawing my attention back to our conversation.
“Is that your emergency?”
“No, smartass, my emergency has to do with…” She stops for a moment, and then says in an even quieter voice, “Lady business.”
“Lady business?” I repeat, confused. What the hell is she talking about?
“Yes, lady business… you know?”
I look around, like somehow the answer will jump at me from the closest bush. No such luck. “Ummm… I don’t think I do.”
“Tampons, Yasmin!” she whisper-yells at me, and I can’t help myself; I burst into laughter. “What’s so funny?”
“That’s your lady business?”
I can’t see her face, but from the irritated tone of her voice I can clearly imagine her scowling at me. “What do you call it?”
“Period. It’s called a period. Menstruation. Menstrual cycle, whatever.”
A few people who pass by me on their way to or from the library give me confused looks, but I ignore them.
“Well, I don’t want people to know about my…”
“Lady business?” I ask, cracking up once again. It’s too funny not to, not that Callie appreciates my humor.
“Ugh, I hate you!”
“No, you don’t. Besides, you need me. So, what’s up?”
“I’m at Hayden’s, and I completely forgot to pack some…”
“Tampons?” I supply, because seriously, what’s the big deal? It’s not like women all over the world aren’t facing the same problem as we speak and have been for, oh, I don’t know, since the beginning of the world?
“Yeah.”
“Should I ask for a brand or will that be too much?”
“I hate you.”
“Why don’t you go and buy them yourself?”
“Um… because I’m bleeding?”
I cringe. “That bad?”
“You have no idea. Can you pick some up or what?”
“Sure thing, I can get them,” I say, already on the move. Still, I can’t help but ask, “Where is Hayden?”
“I’m not asking Hayden to pick up my tampons!” she yells defensively.
“Oh, so you’re fine with him doing all the dirty things…”
“They’re not dirty,” she interrupts. “Besides, he isn’t home. He and the guys went to the gym.”
I feel a pang of… something. Disappointment? Relief? I’m not sure, but I