His eyes glow brilliantly in the pale moonlight.
"I'm all in, Autumn. You and me. That's it."
He runs his hands through my fingertips. Then he consumes me with everything he has.
------------------------
Elizabeth Papas comes from a long line of...
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Hayden's POV
I have an upcoming exam at the end of the week. My head has been ingrained into my computer, and my study notes. It's now 7pm. I have been revising basic business principles for the last ten hours and I think the neurones in my mind are commencing to unwind themselves.
I only applied for the course of Sports Business Management purely for the sport aspect of it. Fucking moron. I highly regret not first applying for Sports Medicine or Sports Management.
Would you rather be downstairs imprisoned in a space with a moping Parker hanging around?
True. Since the occurrence of last night's events, Parker has been nursing this minor Pixie crisis really poorly. The woman obviously broke a nonexistent something inside of the guy, as he's never been this shattered over a hookup since he started participating in the taboo art of it.
It's oddly nice witnessing him caring about something that he takes for granted in women. It's good discipline to teach him about the misogyny in hookup culture and how women are more than a 'flavour' in his palette.
As much as I love my best friend, he needs to be reckoned with this tough love to understand how his Casanova habits can negatively affect women.
While I'm struggling to recall the last basic business principle, the loud vibrations of my phone is harmonious pleasure to my ears. When you have been engulfed in long-term silence, it eventually becomes deafening.
I extend my hand upon my bed, and my heart jitters in ferocity at the Caller ID: Autumn Girl.
After adding Beth into my contacts, as her physical complexion connotes the beauty of Autumn, I shortly nicknamed her Autumn Girl.
Last night forms at the bulk of my mind - in the bathroom and the car. Her mouth translucently slithering down my neck. The knitted grasp her fingers had on my shirt. Every breathless breath and moan shuddering out of her throat is tangled in my ears, refusing to be forgotten.
Fucking hell. The girl has possessed all aspects of my mind, especially motor control. When I peek down, my hand is indiscreetly palming my humongous and imposing bulge.
Calm down you pathetic sex freak.
Clumsily adjusting my sweatpants, with one swift and surprisingly steady motion, I accept the call on via speaker.
Plastering a conniving grin upon my face, my voice thickens with mock pretentiousness. "Miss me already, Papas?"
Boisterous chatter arises in the backdrop. But regarding her line, it remains silent. Maybe there's a bad connection.
