She looks amazing tonight.
Blue balls amazing.
She’s wearing a pair of tight jeans with a few purposeful rips in the front, a simple cream colored camisole top that pushes her breasts up high in a way that makes me want to lick in between them.
She sees me standing at the bar and smiles. I smile in return until I see Dobson hobble his way over to her on his crutches. I might be imagining this shit, but they greet each other as if she’s his guest.
What. The. Hell.
“Diesel, you said you needed three drafts and three vodka shots?”
“Yeah,” I respond totally distracted.
“Okay put your drink donation in the jar and I’ll get you the shots. You want Stoli or Grey Goose?”
All of the girls that Olivia are with are fawning over Dobson. Rubbing his shoulders and asking him about his leg, but it seems as if he’s only paying attention to one of them and that’s my girl.
“Stoli’s fine.”
Olivia swears that Dobson taking her to the dance a few years ago was a pity date that Ginger arranged, but I knew the minute he laid eyes on her that it wasn’t as simple as that. I believed him when he told her that he already knew who she was. Who wouldn’t? Olivia is the kind of girl that’s hard to forget, not to mention that she’s drop-dead gorgeous—especially because she doesn’t have a clue that she is.
“Your girl is looking especially hot tonight. Surprised to see her at a frat party. Usually, you keep her locked up in her dorm.”
“I don’t keep her locked up anywhere, jackass.”
“Never seen her at a frat party though.”
“She’s been to a few at my frat.”
“It kind of makes me believe what I heard today.”
Simon is goading me. Over the years the guys have relentlessly teased me about my relationship with Olivia. They all really like her, but it’s just what guys do. I’ve allowed it because I don’t care what they say about us.
No one makes me smile or laugh like her.
No one has my back like her.
No one turns me on like her.
“You’re waiting for me to ask aren’t you?”
“Did she tell you she was coming tonight?”
“No.”
“Is she talking to you right now or to Dobson?”
“Get to the fucking point, Simon.”
“She was seen in front of the towers sitting with Dobson, talking to him, touching him. They were supposedly real cozy.”
“Give me another shot please.”
I throw back one of the vodka shots in my hand that goes straight to the head, and then I drink another that the bartender hands me.
“Give these to Graham,” I say to Simon.
“Aren’t you the designated driver tonight?” he asks.
“Not anymore.”
I practically stomp like a child over to where Olivia and Scott are standing. Vodka mixed with fury are quickly traveling through my bloodstream and emboldening me.
“You didn’t say you were coming tonight,” I say in an almost accusatory way to Olivia.
“Hello to you too, Bridgewater,” Dobson greets me sarcastically with a Cheshire grin across his face.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Let me talk to you for a minute outside,” Olivia requests as she grabs my arm.
She smells just as good as she looks.
“Instead of worrying about if she got your permission to go to a party, how about you telling her how gorgeous she looks tonight.”
He wants me to hit him.
“Scott, quit it,” Olivia says.
The fact that she is even addressing him makes me irate. Doesn’t she see how disrespectful he is being to me? To us?
“What the fuck is your problem, Dobson? You think this is a game?” I step in his face. “You can have any girl in this room, so why the hell are you after what’s mine.”
“She isn’t your property.”
“She’s mine.”
I grab Olivia by the waist and pull her into me.
“Mason!”
Before he even tries it, I warn him.
“If you even move one of those crutches toward her, I will knock you out right in the middle of your frat house. I’m sick of this shit. I don’t care if you’re the captain of the team. I don’t care about any of that. Leave Olivia alone or you’ll be hobbling on both of those legs tonight.”
Olivia pushes me with all the force she can muster out of the room and into the next one.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she tells her girlfriends.
Once we’re in the dining room section of the house I allow Olivia to rip me a new one. I knew it was coming anyway.
“Why are you acting like a crazy person? Are you drunk?”
“I had two measly shots.”
“Do two shots make you drunk?”
“I’m not drunk, JG. I’m furious!”
“Why? Because I’m here?”
“No! Why does everyone keep talking to me like I’m keeping you locked up in a prison somewhere? I don’t care that you’re out tonight with your girlfriends. I want you to go out and have fun. What I don’t want is that jerk sniffing behind you everywhere I turn and you going for it.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Was he at your dorm today?”
Her face drops.
“I mean yes but—”
“To see you?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, that I never got around to asking him who he was there to see.”
“That long of a conversation huh?”
“Mason—”
“Did he invite you to this party?”
“Yes, and I didn’t mention it when we spoke, because I didn’t think you were going to be here.”
“What does that have to do with anything? You thinking that I wasn’t going to be here. I thought we told each other everything?”
“We do.”
“We obviously don’t.”
“Listen, you’re clearly a little tipsy and not yourself. I’m out with my friends, and I’m here to have a good time, not argue with you. For some reason you allow Scott to get to you when our relationship is perfectly harmless. He’s just messing with you sometimes, and you fall for it every single time.”
She just doesn’t get it.
“So this is my fault?”
“Tonight it is.”
“Then by all means. Party your ass off. I’m out.”
I storm out of the room and see Dobson pushed up on another girl in the corner. This is all a game to him. How he treats football. How he treats women.
So I punch him.
Dead smack in his eye.
“You’re a dick,” I tell him.
And then I keep walking out the door and all the way home. By the time I arrive, I’m freezing and the vodka has worn completely off. I’m cold, and angry, and feel a little sorry for myself. At the beginning of this day, all I wanted to do was spend some time with my girl, not hang with the guys or punch Dobson in the middle of the frat house.
How did my evening disintegrate into this?
Now I am all alone.
19
Olivia
I am still staring in the direction of the front door of the house that Mason just exited through wondering what just happened. He’s gone, Scott is holding his eye in pain, and everyone’s staring at me.
I came to this party with my friends to try something different. To be more social. If I’m going to promote a ball club or a living, I better learn how to be a better party girl. So that’s why I’ve come to have a good time.
Part of me wants to follow Mason to his dorm and figure out why he just hit Scott like that, but another part of me realizes that he was acting like a total kid. Storming out of the frat house like a bratty kid who has never been told the word no.
“Are you ok, Scott?”
“I’m c
His eye is looking more purple by the minute.
“Scott, I know what Mason did was wrong but why do you continually push his buttons like that? He’s not a freshman anymore, but you act like you’re still hazing him as if he is one. He’s your teammate. Your equal. In fact he’s one of your best players.”
Several party goers have surrounded us to shamelessly listen to our exchange. I’m not trying to embarrass Scott any further, but I can’t let this slide. No matter how ridiculous he may act, I will always have Mason’s back.
“He shouldn’t have talked to you that way,” Scott replies.
“Maybe he shouldn’t have, but that’s for me to worry about and for me to handle. It’s none of your business.”
Scott stops smiling.
“I don’t treat Mr. Sensitive any differently than any of the other guys on the team. It’s just so easy to get under his skin.”
“I don’t understand what pleasure you get out of that. Mason’s never done anything to you, but I’m asking you to stop. If the two of us are going to remain friends, I’m asking you to stop.”
“What’s everybody looking at?” he angrily barks at the crowd. “Go away and get drunk. This is a party.”
Scott doesn’t respond to my request. In fact he doesn’t finish talking to me at all. Instead he summons two girls over who flank both sides of him and then hobbles back over to his recliner.
I on the other hand just stand there looking stupid until my friend Kira comes over with a drink in her hand.
“This is for you. It’s a vodka and cranberry juice. I think you need it.”
I take the glass and take a long sip. I don’t normally drink alcohol, but this is sweet and almost refreshing, so I take another sip.
“Thanks.”
“I can’t believe you had two hot football players fighting over you tonight.”
“They weren’t fighting over me at all. It was a dick swinging contest and nothing more.”
“Thanks for that visual. Do you know whose dick is bigger?”
“Kira!”
“I’m kidding,” she chuckles. “Listen, it might have been a whole whose dick is bigger thing for Scott Dobson, but I saw the look in Diesel’s eyes. That dude looked genuinely distraught. Like he lost his best friend or something.”
“But he didn’t lose his best friend. I’ve been right here the entire time.”
“Then maybe you need to be wherever he is right now to remind him of that.”
20
Olivia
My friends are troopers and decide amongst themselves that if one of us leaves the party then we’re all going to leave. Even though it’s against regulations, we all take a to-go drink with us as we walk in the cold across campus back to Hamilton Towers.
We will pass Mason’s dorm before we get to Hamilton, so I’m thinking carefully about what I’m going to say when I see him. I reconsider all of my actions up to this point and wonder if I did something to contribute to how the night ended.
I don’t know who’s in the right or the wrong at this point. All I know, is that I need to talk to him. I hope he’s here. It takes me five freezing minutes to finally make the decision to ring Mason’s doorbell, and when I do his suite mate answers the door.
“Hey, Olivia.”
“Hi, is Diesel here?”
“I think he’s asleep.”
“Oh–” I say quickly. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow then.”
I’m almost out of the door when I hear a door crack open and then his voice.
“Wait.”
I turn to find Mason standing in the doorway with nothing but a Georgia Union towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair dripping water from a fresh shower.
“Come inside.”
I walk silently inside of his room and sit on the edge of the bed completely tongue tied by his smooth muscular body. It’s a feast for the eyes to watch as each muscle ripples and contracts with every small movement that he makes.
He doesn’t bother to get dressed, and he doesn’t say a word. He just sits down on the chair at his desk opposite me and stares at me from head to toe with angry green eyes.
His fury rattles me.
And excites me.
I cross my legs to stop the dull ache that is growing in between them, and then I try pulling up my top so that my cleavage is covered because suddenly I feel underdressed.
“Did you wear that outfit for him?” he finally asks with displeasure.
“That’s an absurd question.”
“What’s the fucking answer.”
“I don’t wear clothes for anyone but myself, and stop using that language.”
“You don’t wear anything special for me?”
He stands up in a powerful stance.
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
“Then maybe that’s the fucking problem.”
He starts walking over to the bed.
“Maybe you’re not clear on what we are to each other.”
“I’m very clear,” I say swallowing the lump forming in my throat.
He stands directly in front of me, spreads my legs open, and kneels in between them. Magically his towel stays put and doesn’t fall to the floor. I’m nervous that it will.
“We’re not childhood pals riding our bikes together down near the creek, and we’re not high school buddies sharing burgers and lifting weights. All of that shit is in the past. It is our past.”
“I know that, Mason.”
“You mean much more to me than our history, Olivia. I loved you at eleven, I love you at twenty, and I will always fucking love you. So when I see you giving anyone, especially that douchebag Dobson, the impression that they come between us– then that’s when I have to step in and bring some order to this shit.”
“Mason–”
“You belong to me, Olivia. Call it sexist, call it patriarchal, call it whatever the fuck you want to call it, but just recognize the truth. You are mine. So act like it.”
I take both of my hands and cradle his face in between them. I bend my head and kiss him on the lips. The kiss is gentle at first, loving, and then it grows more intense.
He takes his huge hands and uses them to easily slide me forward on the bed. Then he begins kneading my hips as his head falls in between my breasts. He peppers each one of my them with kisses, and I can feel the warmth of his breath through the fabric of my top. I grow immediately wet in between my legs. My panties are so drenched that I’m afraid it I will soak right through to my jeans.
“I smell you,” he growls.
He stretches my cami down on one side and one of my heavy breasts pops free. He sucks on the nipple with great ferocity as he plays and pinches the nipple of the other.
Mason and I have been intimate like this many times before but never with this degree of want between us. I don’t know if it’s the vodka coursing through my veins or because emotions ran high tonight, but I want him more than I ever have.
I am ready.
I slide my hands through his wet, slick hair and start to moan from the pleasure he is continuing to give me. He growls in response. Loving how I run my hands through his hair when I’m turned on.
“Take off your top,” he orders.
I yank my cami up and over my head, releasing my breasts, and offering them up to Mason.
“You are so beautiful, Olivia. It wrecks me when Scott looks at you like he know what’s underneath your clothes.”
“He doesn’t know.” I pant
“I know that. I know you. I just…sometimes I can’t help but feel the way that I do.”
“Then try harder to help it, because you’re pissing me off.”
Mason smirks devilishly then licks the corner of his mouth
“I’m going to to taste you now.”
21
Olivia
“First, we’re going to peel off these skin-tight jeans you have on. They make your ass look great, but it’s time for them to say goodbye.”
Mason stands and then pulls me up to stand as well. My eyes are fixated on the bulge poking through his towel as I fiddle with the zipper of my jeans.
“Here.” He grins after noticing that I’m gawking at his huge appendage. “Let me help you with that.”
Mason does most of the work to shimmy off my jeans, and once they’re off he tosses them clear across the room with a hungry look in his eyes.
“Lie down on the bed.”
I obey.
He stares at me with wonder as I lie sprawled out on top of his dark blue comforter feeling more beautiful by the minute.
“Black lace panties look so hot on you.”
He starts to rub against his bulge with the heel of his hand. The way he is looking at me makes me feel powerful.
“Maybe I wore them for you,” I tease.
In seconds, Mason kneels back down on the floor, slides his hands underneath my ass, and pulls me forward. I yelp in surprise from the sudden movement.
“Eeek!”
Mason slides the crotch of my panties over to one side and begins to lick in between my legs making sure to pay special attention to my clit. He devours me so deliciously I don’t know what to do with myself. My body just reactively responds and my hips start to move and my hands grip his scalp.
“That’s it, baby,” he encourages me on. “Give me this pussy. It belongs to me.”
An angsty, winding ache begins to build inside of me. I’m going to come, and when I do it’s going to be powerful. My hips continue to move and my breathing grows more shallow and rapid.
“It’s hot in here,” I complain. “I’m sweating to death.”
Mason lifts his head up.
“I’m going to finger fuck you now.”
“You’re killing me,” I say almost breathlessly.
He slides one of his oversized fingers inside of me.
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