Page 43 of Quiet Obsession
Untouchable.
Rolling his shoulders, he turns, his eyes finding mine again, gaze scorching. His tongue drags slowly across his lower lip, the move sending a sharp pulse low in my abdomen.
I’ve never been this turned on in my life.
14
Millie
“Cruel”by VOILÁ plays in my ears, my bag slung over my shoulder, as I exit the elevator close to midnight.
Turning left, I breathe a sigh of relief when Abby’s signal umbrella is notably absent. She must be enjoying the party. Dash mentioned that the surf team won a competition, and there’s a bonfire down by the ocean.
I didn’t even know there was a surf team here. It feels more like a California-coded sport, given that Washington is so cold, but apparently, I don’t know shit.
The only sport I was ever interested in is hockey.
I’ve been dodging Abby and Dash’s attempts at convincing me to join the party all day. They both promised it’d be fun, their enthusiasm almost contagious.
Almostbeing the operative word.
The only reason I considered going was to spend timewith Noah... and Creed, but I settled for a lonely evening in the library because I can’t decide who I want to be.
Besides, I don’t even know if they’ll be there. Dash fits anywhere, and people flock to him in droves, but Noah and Creed don’t strike me as the beach party types.
Ugh... they’re messing with my head.
Noah with his stoic, calm composure, those loaded glances, and how at ease I feel around him. Creed with that intensity that makes my body hum and my blood heat every time he’s near.
I shake my head to clear it as I fish out my room key.
The signal umbrella has been parked outside our door almost every night since Abby and Dash had their night together. She hasn’t shut up about how good he was, how well equipped, and how many orgasms he wrung out of her.
I told her not to catch feelings. I warned her Dash is a player, and despite saying she understood and wasn’t expecting more than good sex, she moped the next evening in her bed, curled up in a ball after spotting Dash feeling up another girl.
I thought Thomas would be the cure, but they fucked once and he wanted commitment. She vented to me for an hour, saying she’s not ready for something that serious. I didn’t utter a word through the rant, but her relationship ick bent my mind because isn’t that what she wanted from Dash?
Anyway, she settled for fucking her way through all the seniors, swearing she’s enjoying the full college experience,but we both know it’s bullshit. I just hope she’s not trying to make Dash jealous because that’s impossible.
Also, I don’t get why she brings the guyshere. Every senior in the building has their own room. Can’t they fuck there?
Adjusting my bag, I push the door to our room open, take three steps and freeze, the air punching out of my lungs. Abby’s here... and she has company.
More company than I’d expect.
My lips part, eyes wider than saucers. Neither my roommate nor the guys currently busy double-teaming her notice me enter. They’re in the zone, moving together and I’m not breathing.
The music changing and pulsing through my headphones—”Now or Never” by Three Days Grace—should drown out everything, but I hear their moans and grunts, the wet sounds of their bodies, skin slapping against skin....
My cheeks burn so hot I’m afraid my skin will peel off.
One guy is sideways on the bed, his back propped against the wall, knees bent, feet digging into the mattress. He’s butt naked, save for socks, and Abby’s sprawled over his chest. Her back arches as his cock drives up into her pussy, each thrust lifting her slightly off his muscular body. Sweat mists his skin, his face contorted in pleasure, lips parted, eyes on Abby’s bouncing boobs.
Another guy’s behind her, feet firmly planted on the floor, knees bent. He holds her in place by the hips, driving his cock into her ass so fast his is a blur.
My ears ring and my hands tremble uselessly at my sides.
The rhythm between them is obscene. The guys move like a well-oiled engine. One in, one out in such perfect sync I wonder if it’s rehearsed, or whether they fuck together often enough that it’s instinct by now.
