Campus Belle's Forbidden Taste - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading Campus Belle's Forbidden Taste, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of Campus Belle's Forbidden Taste.
My cheeks burned as I dropped my gaze, only to catch the unmistakable outline straining against Dominic's gray slacks. The sight sent electric currents racing through my body.
That forbidden rush nearly stole my breath.
Then Sophia swooped in, pressing herself against Dominic's chest with a predatory grin. "Birthday boy, I'm claiming my present today!"
His hands jerked back like he'd been burned.
Emboldened by her newly single status, Sophia started teasing him shamelessly—running fingers through his hair, tracing his jawline. Across the room, Ethan seemed to take her boldness as a challenge. His arm snaked around my waist before his lips found my neck in full view of everyone.
I pulled away, blaming the whiskey on his breath, but my eyes kept flicking to Dominic—terrified he'd notice.
He didn't. Too busy with Sophia hiking up his tank top to trace the ridges of his abs. "Jesus, these are insane," she purred before straddling his lap without hesitation.
Watching her grind against him made my skin prickle with restless jealousy. That should've been me.
After some whispered exchange, they disappeared into the bathroom together. I stared at that closed door until my stomach ached, the muffled sounds of pleasure and pain from behind it making me squirm in my seat.
Ethan was already passed out among our drunk classmates. The bitterness coated my tongue—why was I living like a nun at twenty-two?
The clock crawled. I kept biting my chapped lips, the tension coiling tighter with each passing minute.
When Sophia finally emerged—flushed and glowing—she collapsed beside me with a conspiratorial whisper: "Sweetheart, you have no idea what you're missing. Dominic's a fucking artist."
My head spun. I glanced across the room just as Dominic's dark eyes locked onto mine, simmering with something dangerous.
Later, when Ethan proved too wasted to stand, Dominic offered us a ride. Before I could refuse, he'd dumped Ethan in the backseat like a sack of potatoes and held my door open with unsettling calm.
The car hummed with tension thick enough to choke on. I stole glances at his profile the whole ride—the sharp jaw, the way his fingers flexed on the gearshift.
Then tires screeched as he swerved onto a deserted roadside.
Before I could gasp, Dominic turned with molten eyes. His whisper curled around me like smoke: "Heard you're a dancer. Bet you're flexible."
My brain flatlined. He was asking me this—with Ethan snoring two feet away?
I twisted to check. My boyfriend lay comatose, drooling on the leather seats.
I should've been furious. Instead, heat pooled low in my belly at the sheer audacity.
Artists really did play by different rules.
The thought of what he could teach me sent delicious shivers down my spine.
When I turned back, Dominic was already closing the distance.
That forbidden rush nearly stole my breath.
Then Sophia swooped in, pressing herself against Dominic's chest with a predatory grin. "Birthday boy, I'm claiming my present today!"
His hands jerked back like he'd been burned.
Emboldened by her newly single status, Sophia started teasing him shamelessly—running fingers through his hair, tracing his jawline. Across the room, Ethan seemed to take her boldness as a challenge. His arm snaked around my waist before his lips found my neck in full view of everyone.
I pulled away, blaming the whiskey on his breath, but my eyes kept flicking to Dominic—terrified he'd notice.
He didn't. Too busy with Sophia hiking up his tank top to trace the ridges of his abs. "Jesus, these are insane," she purred before straddling his lap without hesitation.
Watching her grind against him made my skin prickle with restless jealousy. That should've been me.
After some whispered exchange, they disappeared into the bathroom together. I stared at that closed door until my stomach ached, the muffled sounds of pleasure and pain from behind it making me squirm in my seat.
Ethan was already passed out among our drunk classmates. The bitterness coated my tongue—why was I living like a nun at twenty-two?
The clock crawled. I kept biting my chapped lips, the tension coiling tighter with each passing minute.
When Sophia finally emerged—flushed and glowing—she collapsed beside me with a conspiratorial whisper: "Sweetheart, you have no idea what you're missing. Dominic's a fucking artist."
My head spun. I glanced across the room just as Dominic's dark eyes locked onto mine, simmering with something dangerous.
Later, when Ethan proved too wasted to stand, Dominic offered us a ride. Before I could refuse, he'd dumped Ethan in the backseat like a sack of potatoes and held my door open with unsettling calm.
The car hummed with tension thick enough to choke on. I stole glances at his profile the whole ride—the sharp jaw, the way his fingers flexed on the gearshift.
Then tires screeched as he swerved onto a deserted roadside.
Before I could gasp, Dominic turned with molten eyes. His whisper curled around me like smoke: "Heard you're a dancer. Bet you're flexible."
My brain flatlined. He was asking me this—with Ethan snoring two feet away?
I twisted to check. My boyfriend lay comatose, drooling on the leather seats.
I should've been furious. Instead, heat pooled low in my belly at the sheer audacity.
Artists really did play by different rules.
The thought of what he could teach me sent delicious shivers down my spine.
When I turned back, Dominic was already closing the distance.
End of Campus Belle's Forbidden Taste Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Campus Belle's Forbidden Taste book page.