Combust (The Wellingtons #1) (11 page)

AFTER A few beers in the dorm, we get ready and head over to the frat house for the party. For someone who claims to hate these parties, I keep finding myself at them. I don’t even want to explore the reasons why. When we get there, I immediately spot the guy I presume she’s seeing, the one I’ve seen her with around campus. I figure she’ll inevitably end up here sometime during the night. I find the keg and down a couple of beers just to take the edge off. This night isn’t about Andi.
Yeah, right. Then why do you keep thinking about her?

It just sucks that this had to be the fraternity Seth had to rush. I wonder if she had a chance to listen to the mix CD. My hopes to start to rise at the thought that she might have, and if she did, she’ll understand the olive branch I was extending.

Throughout the night, Seth introduces me to his new fraternity brothers, including Reese’s boyfriend, Cy, and even to the guy Andi is seeing, who I now know as Teddy. He actually seems like a pretty cool guy, and I find that I can’t hate him. Reese eyes me warily as I shake his hand, but she doesn’t comment.

Seth and I spend the night mostly playing beer pong and flip cup. I try not to look for Andi, but by the time we’re ready to leave, I realize that she never showed up.

The next day, I somehow let Seth talk me into going to another party, again, at the same fraternity. Even though I have a shit-ton of homework, for some reason, I’m feeling restless and I agree to go. The party is more of the same from the night before.

I’m waiting to play the next round of beer bong with when Seth finds me and tells me that he needs me to play wingman. I readily agree. It’ll be the perfect distraction, and also, I figure that it’s time to get out there and see what other girls UT has to offer.

Seth leads me across the room to where two pretty girls are standing. They’re both relatively short, especially compared to Seth and me. One has sleek, black hair and blue eyes that look huge on her small face. She looks like a pretty, little porcelain doll. The other has curly, bleach-blonde hair and brown eyes, and she is actually downright gorgeous. He introduces me to the girls—Jessica is the black-haired girl and Kelsey is the blonde—juniors who are roommates with an apartment off campus. According to the shit-eating grin on Seth’s face, he thinks he hit the mother lode by meeting an upperclassmen, and he wastes no time pulling Jessica onto the makeshift dance floor in the living room, leaving Kelsey and me alone.

“How old are you?” Kelsey shouts above the noise of the crowd. She’s eyeing me like a piece of meat she can’t wait to sink her teeth into as soon as she’s told it’s allowed.

“Eighteen,” I yell back, and a gleam fill her eyes. I don’t know if she’s a cougar in the making, but it seems as if she likes the fact that I’m barely legal. “How about you?”

Someone bumps her from behind and she falls into me. Instinctively, my arms go around her so I can steady her. She takes that as an invitation and slips her hands around my waist.

“You’re pretty cute for an eighteen-year-old. And it’s your lucky night, Cohen. I like them young.” The way she says it makes me wonder if this isn’t her first time preying on freshman meat. I hope she’s not an education major.

Before I can respond, she takes my hand and pulls me to the dance floor, which is completely fine with me. I’d much rather dance than talk right now.

We get lost in the music, stopping only to refill our cups every so often. By the time Kelsey whispers in my ear that she wants to get out of here, I have no idea how long we’ve been dancing. All I know is that I’m pretty drunk and downright sweaty and my cock is hard as hell from Kelsey’s grinding on it all night long.

“It looks like Jessica’s not done with your roommate either,” she says, nodding to where Jessica and Seth are leaned up against a wall, making out. We make our way over to them and Kelsey taps her roommate on the back. When she finally tears herself away from Seth, she gives Kelsey a dirty look. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but why don’t we continue this party back at our place?”

Jessica looks back at Seth, who gives an enthusiastic nod. He’s like an eager puppy who has the world’s biggest bone dangling in front of him. I make a mental note to tell him to tone it down a notch.

Clearing my throat, I peel myself away from Kelsey. “I’m just going to head back to the dorms. My head’s already swimming and I’m ready to crash.”

Seth’s the first to protest, followed quickly by Kelsey. “Don’t worry, Cohen. I promise I won’t take advantage of your drunken state,” she promises, although the look in her eyes tells me that she doesn’t mean it.

“Come on, man. It’ll be fun,” Seth echoes, giving me a look that is half pleading, half ‘I’ll kill you if you leave me hanging.’

I spend about two seconds mulling it over in my brain before I finally relent. Who knows? Maybe this is what I need to get out of my funk. Seth gives me an appreciative grin when I nod my head.

As we make our way outside, Jessica grumbles about being the designated driver. On the way to their apartment, she declares that we have to play a drinking game so she can catch up with the rest of us. The entire time, Kelsey’s sitting next to me with her index finger rubbing up and down on my thigh. She gets dangerously close to the bulge in my jeans, and it twitches involuntarily as her fingertip grazes it.

She leans in until I feel her lips on my ear. “Someone’s packing,” she whispers, excitement lacing her voice.

Before I can respond, Jessica stops the car, announcing that we’re at their place. When we get into their apartment, they pull out a bottle of liquor, four shot glasses, and we begin to play Never Have I Ever. Two hours and an entire bottle of rum later, Seth and Jessica disappear, leaving me alone on the couch with an extremely drunk Kelsey. Apparently, there’s not much she hasn’t done, because I’m pretty sure fifty percent of that bottle went down her throat. As soon as the other two are gone, she climbs onto my lap, where she straddles me. She leans in and rains sloppy kisses all over my face.

“You know, you’re really hot,” she slurs between kisses.

“Umm, yeah, you’re hot, too,” I tell her, but she doesn’t even hear me. At this point, the alcohol’s making my own brain fuzzy, and I don’t even care that her lips keep missing my own.

Her hands roam down my chest, and she tugs on the bottom of my T-shirt, pulling it up. I raise my arms so she can get it off, and she gives me a crooked grin as she tosses it aside. With fumbling hands, her next course of action is to unbuckle my belt and undo the button of my jeans. She slides the zipper down and I lift up so she can pull my jeans down as well—just enough so she can have easy access. I let out a groan of pleasure as her hand slips inside my boxers and finds my erection. Even drunk, the girl knows what she’s doing.

Finally, she finds my mouth with hers, her tongue slipping in as she proceeds to play the most drunken game of tonsil hockey known to man. The way she’s stroking my dick has me not giving a shit how wet and sloppy her kisses are, and I slide my hand up her dress, not surprised when I find that she’s not wearing any panties. I slip my hand between her legs, and she moans when I press against her clit before moving down to find her completely wet for me. I don’t waste any time pushing my fingers inside her, and it’s not long before she’s writhing on top of me, moaning her release into my mouth as I feel her clench around my fingers. Pulling back, she gives me a drunken smile that’s laced with satisfaction. Her eyes are hooded as she begins to come down from her orgasm.

“That was soooo good,” she mumbles as she pulls her hand out of my pants. Apparently, Knox’s advice has been working, because even though she’s been jacking me off for a good ten minutes, I’m nowhere near close to getting off.

She climbs off my lap and lies face down on the couch next to where I’m sitting up, placing her head in my lap. I lift up when she pulls on my jeans, and when I do, she pushes my boxers down and then looks up at me. With glossy eyes, she begins to giggle.

“You have a really pretty penis,” she informs me.

Shifting, I reach down and begin to pull my boxers back up to cover myself, not really in the mood for a hot girl to start talking to my erection, but she pushes my hand away.

“Stop that! It’s so pretty. I want to know if it tastes as good as it looks.”

Oh, hell yeah. I’m definitely up for a blow job, and I rest my head back against the couch, more than ready for her. She leans her head forward and takes me into her mouth. All of me. I swear my dick’s touching the back of her throat, and it feels so good. So fucking good. That is, until she begins to withdraw. I inhale sharply.

“Teeth! Fucking Jesus Christ, no teeth!”

The scraping stops and she gives me an apologetic smile before she proceeds to bob up and down, not going nearly as far and, thankfully, no longer using her teeth to scrape my skin. I lean my head against the back of the couch as I enjoy Kelsey’s mouth on me. I’m pretty damn proud of myself for lasting this long, but a small part of me wonders if I were with Andi if I’d already have exploded. Kelsey’s good, but she’s no Andi. I immediately feel bad at the thought and drive all thoughts, all images, all anything of Andi outside of my mind and focus on who I’m here with.

All of a sudden, Kelsey stops sucking me and lays her head down on my lap, my erection apparently acting as her pillow. “I’m so tired and this is taking too long. Can I finish tomorrow?” she asks sleepily, and before I can even answer, she’s already snoring.

With a heavy sigh, I lift her up just enough so I can slip out from under her and off the couch. I fumble with my jeans and find my shirt before grabbing my phone and calling a cab, not caring or wanting her to finish tomorrow. When she wakes up, I want to be a long gone. Not that it matters. She probably won’t even remember it. Which is my fault, anyway. I should’ve known she was too far gone to actually do anything, and it’s not like I came here expecting to get some. Yeah, I figured something would happen, but that was before she drank half her weight in Captain Morgan. I should’ve stopped her the minute she touched me, but it’s not the easiest thing to tell a warm, inviting mouth no, especially when I’ve had my fair share of alcohol, too. Sighing at my stupidity, I wait outside for the cab, desperate to escape this place.

When the cab drops me off at the dorm, a thought crosses my mind. Was this how Andi felt the morning she slipped out of my dorm? I sure as hell hope not, because even through my alcohol-induced haze, I feel like shit. Drunken hookups are officially crossed off my list. And suddenly I realize that I’m still overanalyzing things even though I told myself I’d stop. What fucking good is booze if it still doesn’t make my brain stop thinking clearly?

When I fall on to my bed, I stare up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I’m doing and how things in my life seem so complicated when just two months ago I was headed off to college, more interested in my course load than anything. Yet here I am, an overly analytical asshole. That’s what I feel like, and it’s kind of true. This is me, unlike ever before. Cohen Wellington. Oh for two. Fuck my life. College is a lot harder than I thought, and I’m not even talking about academics.