The Mistake (Off-Campus, #2)

by Elle Kennedy

On the bright side, I haven’t been obsessing over her as much as usual. The person who monopolized my thoughts all weekend was not Hannah, but Grace.

Christ, and don’t get me started on Monday’s oral spectacular. When I jerked off last night, it was to the memory of Grace’s ...

“Logan. Hey.” I blink in confusion as Grace enters my line of vision. For a second, I wonder if my dirty mind somehow conjured up the image of her, but nope. She’s actually here, standing...

She smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s in a tight sweater, black yoga pants, and an unzipped blue windbreaker, looking like she stepped off the pages of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalogue. I ki...

“What are you guys here to see?” I ask Grace. She grins. “What do you think?” She holds up two tickets and I chuckle when I glimpse the title of the Statham movie.

Of course. I forgot what an action nut she is. “That’s what we’re watching too. We should all sit together.” Her friend makes another squeaky noise.

Too bad I’m not interested in fulfilling that fantasy. I’m wholly focused on Grace, and the parade of wicked images flashing through my mind. Like the way her eyes glazed over when my tongue first touched her clit. And the breathy noises she made when she came. And⁠—

“It’s Grace’s birthday,” the friend announces. Grace’s features crease in discomfort. “Ramona.” “Shit, it is?” I grin at her. “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

I don’t miss the way her friend’s jaw slackens again, or how Grace shifts in visible embarrassment. “Thanks.” Her bottom lip juts out glumly. “I’m nineteen today. Go me.” I snicker. “I take it you’re not a birthday...

“You mean do I remember the day I researched how to emancipate myself from my parents?” Grace replies in a dry voice. “Vividly.”

For all his manwhoring, the guy has a strict rule about not doing freshmen. I’m not sure I blame him, considering our little stalker incident at the start of the year. Dean had hooked up with a freshman, who, after one night of exquisite passion, decided they were madly in love.

She then proceeded to show up at our house at all hours of the day and night, sometimes wearing clothes, other times not wearing clothes, usually armed with flowers and love letters and—my personal favorite—a framed photo of herself wearing Dean’s hockey jersey.

Yikes

Sometimes when I’m falling asleep, I can still hear her wailing Deeeeeeeeean outside my window. Needless to say, Dean’s avoided the young ones ever since. He calls them level-ten clingers.

The girls are walking ahead of us, so I lean closer to Dean and murmur, “Mind if we split up? I want to sit with Grace. It’s her birthday.” His gaze rests on Ramona’s undeniably great ass. “I can live with that.”

she slides closer to whisper, “Are you sure your friend is okay sitting with Ramona? Because she’s absolutely going to hit on him the whole time.” Her lips are practically on my ear, and she smells incredible.

“Don’t worry. Dean can handle himself,” I whisper back with a grin.

We turn to the screen, which is showing a preview that instantly captivates Grace. It’s some shoot-em-up explosion porn with big stars and even bigger guns, and her excited expression makes me want to kiss her so fucking bad. Her love for action movies is a major turn-on.

Before I can stop myself, I reach out and take her hand. She jerks in surprise, then relaxes and looks over with a smile before re...

I still can’t figure her out. She’s sweet, but she doesn’t come off as naive. She gives off an innocent vibe, but she also seems incredibly secure with herself. She doesn’t barrage me with questions or flirt up a storm. Hell, she hasn’t even brought up the fact that I ...

It’s crazy how I hardly know a thing about her, yet I had my face between her legs a couple days ago and—oh shit, now I’m thinking about her pussy. Wonderful. And...

I clumsily shift in my seat, resisting the urge to slide my hand down my pants and do some discreet rearranging. Or maybe to slide my hand down her pants a...

With that said, I’m still not sure how I feel about him. He didn’t make the best first impression when he raced out of my dorm that first night, but I can’t deny that his second impression was a screaming-orgasm success. So I guess he’s got a checkmark in both the pros and cons columns at the moment.

Make that two checkmarks in the pros department—because halfway through the movie, he kisses me.

It isn’t until I hear chuckles from the guys on the other side of me that I remember where we are. I self-consciously pull away, and Logan’s heavy-lidded gaze rests on my mouth, which is wet and swollen from his kisses.

He leans in closer. “On a scale of one to ten, how much would you care if you missed a few minutes of the movie?” I think it over. “Two?” “Thank God.” He tugs me to my feet.

“Where are we going?” I whisper. All I get in response is a mischievous smile.

I wrap my arms around his neck and eagerly return the kiss. In a heartbeat, he backs me into the wall, one muscular thigh thrusting between my legs. The unexpected contact triggers an instant jolt of arousal that spirals to my core.

He kisses me like he can’t get enough, sucking on my tongue like it’s made of candy. Then he cups my ass and yanks me closer, grinding our lower bodies together.

“I wish I could fuck you right here.” He growls the words against my neck before sinking his teeth into it, bringing a sting of pain that ...

My clit swells, aches, and the tension between my legs grows and grows until I’m shamelessly grinding against his thigh in a desperate attempt to ease the ache. I’ve never fooled around in public before, and the notion that anyone could walk in and catch us right now is so thrilling that my hips move faster, craving more friction.

“Oh fuck, keep doing that, baby,” he mutters. “Rub your pussy against me.” Oh. God. Dirty talk is…different. And exciting.

My clit throbs every time the seam of his fly presses into it, and either I’m completely misinterpreting the wild tingling in my core, or…I might actually come this way. Fully clothed, with no contact other than his thigh rubbing my…oh God, yep, I’m about to come.

A desperate noise tears out of my mouth, but it’s instantly swallowed up by another blistering kiss from Logan, whose hips rock harder, faster, until the knot of pleasure explodes in a rush of pure bliss that sweeps through me, buzzing in my fingers and curling my toes.

Logan’s head falls in the crook of my neck and he lets out a low grunt. Breathing hard against my skin as his entire body trembles. “Fuck. That wa...

“Oh, I remember. I also remember the sucking face part. Seriously, bro, every time I turned around, you were going at it like porn stars.” It’s a good thing I haven’t told him what we did in the closet. He’d probably have a field day with that one.

So you’re using her to not think about Hannah? The accusation flies into my head like a hockey team on the offensive. No. Of course I’m not using her. Am I? No. That’s crazy. I genuinely like Grace, and I fucking love hooking up with her.

But…she does happen to be a great distraction from all this Hannah bullshit. A great distraction? Jesus Christ. I’m such a fucking bastard.

As guilt floods my stomach, I suddenly comprehend the irrefutable shittiness of what I’ve done. And in that moment, I realize I can’t see Grace again. How can I ...

I might be an asshole for unintentionally using her as a diversion, but now that I’m conscious of my asshole-ness, I refuse to let it continue. It wouldn’t be fair to Grace.

Every time I hear someone refer to her as a slut, I threaten a beat-down, because what the fuck? Most of the dudes I know have screwed their way through college, and nobody bats an eye when they do it. So no, I’m not about to judge Piper for her very active sex life.

Nope, what I have a problem with is the fact that she’s a total asshole who spreads nasty rumors and gossips more than a Hollywood tabloid.

She made up some catty hashtag about your girl.” What? I snatch my phone off the coffee table and launch the Twitter app. “What’s the hashtag?” “No idea. I’m sure you can find it if you go on Piper’s account.”

I quickly type Piper’s name in the search box, click on her profile, and proceed to skim the first dozen or so tweets on the page. Each one causes the anger in my gut to burn and bubble and simmer, until finally it boils over and sends me stumbling to my feet in pure outrage. Oh hell no.

What the hell is the matter with people? It’s infuriating how they grant themselves the right to say whatever hurtful poison they want, without giving a shit about the person they’re hurting.

I’m about to scrape my chair back and feed my friends an excuse about needing to study when they both fall silent. Jess literally stops talking midsentence. The table beside us has gone suspiciously quiet, as well.

Ramona looks like she’s fighting a smile as she peers past my shoulders in the direction of the door. Frowning, I shift in my chair, turn my head—and find Logan standing there.

“Hey,” he says easily. I’m so surprised to see him that all I can manage ...

Our gazes lock for one heart-stopping moment, and then he does the absolute last thing I expect. He leans down and kisses me. On the mouth. With tongue. Right there in the dining hall.

When he pulls back, I’m gratified to find that Ramona and Jess are slack-jawed—and so are the girls at the next table. Not feeling so chatty anymore, are you?

I’m still basking in the glow of victory when Logan flashes me that crooked grin I love so much. “Ar...