by Jordan Blake
I grinned. “From you, that’s high praise. Thanks, roomie.”
Madison snapped her bag shut and turned toward us, the leader as always. “All right, girls. Are we ready to make our grand entrances for the sorority formal?”
The three of us nodded, and we trailed out of the bathroom and took our places in the line that had formed down the hallway at the top of the stairs. One by one, as the DJ that was set up in the meeting hall called our names, each of us walked slowly down the stairs, making our entrances and giving the crowd plenty of time to appreciate all the work we’d put into our appearances for this, the most important of all of our sorority formal occasions.
When my name was called, though, I didn’t care about the appreciation of the crowd. I only cared about one person. I locked eyes with Drew as soon as I stepped onto the top tread and kept that eye contact for my entire descent. I drank in the appreciative look on his face. I mean, hell, I probably had the same look on mine. I’d never seen him dressed in black-tie attire before and dayum could that man wear a tux.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I walked over and slipped my hand through his outstretched arm. “Hello, Mr. Sheffield,” I purred.
He grinned as he bent to kiss my cheek. “Fuck, you look amazing. You take my breath away, Dakota.”
I had to concentrate to keep my breathing even and my head from spinning. “Drew, real talk. If I’m gonna be able to stay on my feet through this entire affair and not faint from dizziness or just fall from weak knees, you really have got to stop saying things like that to me.”
He laughed. “No promises.”
I squeezed his arm. “So how was your drive?”
That drew another laugh. “Significantly easier now that I’ve moved five minutes away.”
I laughed, too. “So, you’re still not sorry you sold that huge house just to move into a small apartment here in the city?”
“Hell, no. First of all, a single guy living alone in a huge house in the suburbs is just creepy. Or sad. I don’t know which, but it’s not good. Secondly, what good is owning my own company and being stuck behind a desk if it doesn’t mean that I can just pick up and move when the mood strikes? Lastly, the best thing about that huge house was the fact that it was near you. That’s an attribute it shares with my new tiny apartment in the city, and it’s the only thing I plan on looking for in any housing for the rest of my life, as a matter of fact.”
I blushed at his words, but I stayed put exactly where I was, right next to him, with my arms threaded through his. I was far past the point of getting scared when he talked about the future, or the idea that when he thought about us, he thought about forever. No, that didn’t scare me at all anymore. It excited me. Because I thought about us exactly the same way.
He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “If you keep blushing that way, you and I are going to have to sneak upstairs to your room. You know what your blushing does to me.”
I shook my head. “The upstairs is completely off-limits. They’re really serious about it. They have sorority monitors posted in all of the hallways and doing random room checks.”
He narrowed his eyes as he examined my face. “If that’s true, then why do you still look so happy? More than happy. Self-satisfied. You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”
I angled closer to him so that only he could see what I was doing and then reached my fingers slowly down into my cleavage, feeling the heat of his eyes as they followed the trail of my hand. I pulled out an old-fashioned key and showed it to him. Rising on tiptoe so that my lips were right next to his ear, I whispered, “Because there's a coat check closet down here that no one ever uses. It locks from the inside. You need a key to open it. There’s only one key. And guess what I’m holding?”
His eyes widened and the grin that spread across his face could only be described as wolfish. Heat rushed in a wave from the top of my head down over my entire body, all the way to the soles of my feet.
“Where is it?" he whispered urgently.
I put a hand on his chest to calm him down a little. As if that was possible. I leaned in again, my voice low. “We have to be low-key-ninja-style. Plus, the walls are unbelievably thin. We have to be completely quiet. No slips. Not even a little. Do you think you can do that?”
He smirked. “I think the real question is, can you?”
I had to laugh. He had me there. “I’m loud, what can I say? When you touch me, I lose control. But I can be quiet. I consider it a challenge. Like an event in the erotic Olympics. I won’t fail.”
He dipped his head and nibbled on my earlobe, turning my knees into gelatin. Normally, I would've moaned at that, or even whimpered. But I pressed my lips tightly together and clamped down with the muscles around my vocal cords to keep them from reverberating. He pulled back, looking impressed.
I smiled slyly. “So, I passed your little test, did I?"
“With flying colors. A plus, I’d say. Now where’s this closet? I have more tests. And they need to be administered immediately.”
I turned and led him through the crowded room. It seemed like everyone and their brother wanted to stop us and make small talk. I wanted to scream — it was so infuriating. But in order to avert suspicions, I had to just smile and nod and pretend everything inside of me wasn’t screaming to ditch this inane conversation and go fuck my boyfriend ASAP.
When we finally reached the small hallway nook that held the door to the closet, I placed Drew perpendicular to the wall, facing the party, and used his body for cover, hiding me from potentially prying eyes as I retrieved the key and unlocked the door, opened it just the tiniest fraction necessary for me to slip through sideways, and then signaled for him to come in behind me. It took a moment while he watched the crowd to make sure nobody was looking, and then he quickly slipped into the room. I shut the door firmly behind us and turned the lock mechanism.
“I feel like I’m James Bond on some clandestine maneuver,” he whispered.
“You’re way hotter than James Bond,” I returned in an equally low voice.
If I had thought that I would forget the people at the party could hear us through the thin walls, I was quite mistaken. We could hear the party chatter — including even the individual voices of people who were having conversations nearest to the adjoining wall— as if we were in the same room. I didn't know about Drew, but for me, the heightened stakes of being quiet, and how much would be on the line if we got caught, made the whole encounter ten times hotter than it would've otherwise been.
I whispered urgently, "Do you have a condom?"
He pulled one out and held it up, a cocky little smile on his face. "Please,” he whispered back. "Would James Bond come unprepared?"
I giggled under my breath. "I think that's more a Boy Scout thing than James Bond, but either way…commence Operation Quickie."
He unzipped his fly and pulled out his dick, sliding the condom on. I turned around and leaned over, resting my elbows on a small shelf that protruded from the wall. He pushed my dress up over my hips and shoved the fabric of my panties to the side, burying himself in me. This was where it was going to get challenging for me to stay quiet. Every time I felt him enter me, it was a revelation. No matter how many times I'd felt it before, there was something new about the feeling each and every time that made me want to cry out in a combination of pleasure and surprise that it could feel as good as it did.
But somehow the need to stay quiet just intensified the eroticism of the experience. My head spun, but the fact that I needed to keep at least part of it grounded enough, needed to keep enough of my wits about me to remind myself to keep my fucking trap shut so we wouldn't get caught… God, it was so sexy.
As Drew pumped in and out of me, snippets of conversations hit my ear, most of them passing through my brain as just background chatter in the swirling miasma of arousal that engulfed it. However, then I heard my own name, and Drew's, and it snapped me to reality.
"Oh my God, did you see
Dakota and her boyfriend? I think his name is Drew?" one of my sorority sisters asked another.
"Did I see him? Yes! He’s so hot, I had to go change my panties. He’s seriously Channing Tatum, Ryan Gosling hawt. Where did she meet him?" the other replied.
"I don't know, but if she's ever down for a threesome…" The first one giggled.
The other one laughed right along with her. "I know, right? Just thinking about him is making me need another panty change."
I wilted in Drew's arms, my muscles suddenly too weak to hold myself up. I felt his arms come around my belly quickly to support me, catch me, hold me up. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Do you want to stop? Is this too weird for you?"
I shook my head. Arousal had stolen my voice. I had to wait a moment before I could explain. Then I leaned back and whispered, "No. It’s…hot. They're standing there talking about you, how you make them wet… not knowing that two feet away, on the other side of this wall, your dick is inside me. You’re mine and you’re fucking me as they're standing there talking about how you turn them on. It’s fucking amazing."
He grinned and whispered back in my ear, his words competing with the words of the girls, who were still chattering. "That's good," he said. "Good girl. If I fuck you fast, maybe you can come while they're still talking."
He did, and I did, and it was amazing. Maybe the best orgasm I'd ever had with him. Of course, that could very well be a false comparison, as it was the thought that occurred to me every damn time we had sex.
We straightened our clothes and snuck back out into the party, mingling and chatting and eating hors d'oeuvres as if he hadn't just been inside me not five minutes before. God, was it possible that the deception afterward was even hotter than the sex itself had been?
After we'd been at the party for about half an hour, I slid my arm around his waist and tucked my head against his shoulder. "It's so hard to fake this. To act like I want to be here when all I can think about is getting back to your apartment. Being alone with you. Being naked with you," I whispered.
He kissed the top of my head. "Soon," he assured me.
"Right," I agreed. "And then after this, we have the whole weekend.”
I smiled, and he brushed my hair away from my face. "No," he said, "Not the whole weekend. You're thinking too small."
"What do you mean?"
"We don't just have the rest of the weekend," he said with a smile and a kiss, "We have the rest of our lives."
Also By Jordan Blake
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