Britt Logan was a Stage Five clinger, but gave, quite possibly, the best head east of the Mississippi. The latter was the only reason Zac Moore tolerated her suffocating presence. Oh, and she did make nice arm candy, he’d give her that, although that was only of marginal importance to him.

Propped against pillows with his hands behind his head, he watched her head bobbing up and down, listened to her slurping sounds. In another time, another place, that would’ve gotten him so hot. The girl could suck like a Dyson, and yet, he had the urge to push her away and tell her to get the fuck out of his dorm room. But what the hell, he’d tolerate her until he came and then get rid of her.

Picking up his cell phone, he checked messages. Really wanting to know the scores on some games he had bet on, Zac was pleased to see he’d made a killing on a few of them as well as that he’d be collecting a shitload of money on the bets he took. As he became more engrossed in scrolling through the games, he became almost oblivious to Britt’s sucking. Placing the phone on the bed next to him, he closed his eyes and attempted to clear his mind and concentrate. If he could concentrate it would be over soon and he could get on with his night.