Campus King | 18+

Chapter Thirty-Five

Hannah

Tristan's car was filled with his intoxicating scent, and I inhaled deeply, barely holding back a sigh. There was a very high chance that I was addicted to the way he smelled. My eyes snapped back open when my phone chimed with a message. I quickly checked it to find a text from Jace.

J: Please tell Tristan that we say thanks for talking to us. It was awesome.

H: Awe. Does my baby brother have a man crush?

J: You bet. Kiss him for me, won't you?

I gaped at his cheek. That little asshole. He should definitely expect a knuckle sandwich from me the next time I saw him. But I knew he wasn't buying the whole friends thing with Tristan. To be fair, I wasn't either.

I had yet to spend a night in my own bed, and more often than not, when I was with him, he made my cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing too much. Just yesterday, he joined me in the library and we got so many dirty looks because he couldn't stop talking, and I couldn't stop giggling at his awful jokes.

Dropping my phone back onto my lap, I sighed. Already, I was struggling to keep my emotions out of it. I couldn't help it when he made me feel this good.

The door on the driver's side suddenly clicked open, startling me, but I relaxed as Tristan climbed in. He tossed his duffle bag into the back seat, then turned to face me, his arm draped over the back of my seat.

"Come here," he grunted, reaching for me.

Before I could respond, he cupped the back of my neck and pressed his lips to mine, swallowing my gasp. The kiss was slow and teasing at first, drawing me away from my thoughts, before he angled his head to deepen it.

I moaned as he stroked my tongue with his, effectively stealing my breath as we devoured each other. We had a whole day's worth of pent-up sexual frustration and it translated into our kiss, in how we refused to let up for air, more concerned about catching up than breathing.

I was panting, my lips bruised and tingling when he pulled away. Our eyes opened at the same time, both filled with heat as we stared at each other.

From this close, I could see the vibrant depth of his green eyes in the dimly lit car, as well as the tiny beauty spot just below his right eyebrow. I wanted to kiss it. My eyes trailed appreciatively over his striking face, taking pride in the sight of his slightly swollen lips. And then he groaned, shifting in discomfort.

"Fuck."

"Are you okay?" I asked, worried that he'd been hurt during his match.

"No. My dick's about to rip through my pants and it's all your fault." He winced, reaching down to adjust said appendage.

I looked down at the noticeable tent in his pants and laughed, sitting up straight in my seat. "That's your problem."

He grinned coyly. "And yours."