by Amanda Ray
The Dare
Sterling U: Book 1
Amanda Ray
Copyright © 2020 Amanda Ray
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456
Cover design by: Art Painter
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
For Jenny
Thank you for introducing me to some of my favorite books, characters and authors. You are a force to be reckoned with and I am so happy to know you.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Acknowledgements
Books By This Author
Chapter 1
Letty
Junior year of college and I'm still surrounded by idiots. I'm about to leave my Psych II class when the guy in the front row goes practically crawling to the professor because he got a D on the first assignment. Idiot. Now, I'm not saying that I'm a know-it-all or that I'm the smartest person alive, but when you get to college and the professor gives you a syllabus telling you everything you're required to read and study and when the assignments and exams are due, there's no excuse as to why you - in his words- forgot there was an assignment due. Again, IDIOT. I'm also not one to turn down a party, hell, I love getting dressed up, dancing and having a few drinks just as much as the next person, but I know how to prioritize my time to make sure I get my shit done. What's the point in paying to go to college if you're not actually going to get a degree out of it?
After watching the idiot grovel for about five minutes, I finally get the chance to talk to the professor about the upcoming project on Freud. After she gives me all the information I need, I head to the library, my usual temple, to get some research done and out of the way. My next class isn't for another three hours and if I can get some research for this project done, I'll be able to focus on my thesis project for my major.
Anthropology wasn't something I initially came to school for but when I walked into Professor Babs seminar freshmen year, I was captivated. The way she opened my eyes to the human race and different cultures floored me. The uniqueness of a society and how it can influence oneself was remarkable. I had never thought of people in the way she described. Never felt the need to look deeper or to immerse myself into someone else's way of living. Her stories of her own experiences pulled me in and I knew, then, that that was what I wanted to do. I want to travel the world, get involved in other cultures, write a book or work in a museum. See how other people live and immerse myself in their way of living. The best thing about Anthropology though is that with all of the psychology and sociology courses I have to take with it - deciding to make psych my minor - I can also use my degree to be a therapist if I wanted to.
The worst thing about all of the psychology and sociology courses: Brooks Holland. Jerk face is getting his degree in criminal law and has to take a ton of the same courses I do. Mister big man barely ever shows up and when he does he's always late. Today I had the blessing of him not showing up to our Psych II class, which meant enjoying every bit of the quiet.
Most of the time all of the girls are either trying to talk to him during lecture or are talking to each other about him. To say it's annoying would be an understatement. The guy thinks he owns the world. His mom's a big shot lawyer with this huge company in the city and his dad's a famous hockey player turned actor. And to top it all off, both his parents came from money. Ugh.
Now I have nothing against money. Money's great. Do I wish I had more of it? Sure. But when people act like they have money, it's so damn annoying. The way they throw it around and want everyone to know just how much they have, cause you know, they don't have to work minimum wage jobs just to get by. Nope. Never had to do that. I bet Brooks never worked a good hard day in his life. Whereas I've had a job since I was fourteen. Been taking care of myself on my own since I was sixteen. And here I am, in college, on a full ride that I got myself. I'm not bitter. I've been on my own for so long that I'm used to it. That's my life and it is what it is. Besides, having money can be a wonderful thing, but throw in super attractive looks and an athlete and you'll get the smug bastard called Brooks.
I drop my books on the table and get comfy on my little couch in the back corner of the library. I love this campus. Sterling University is one of the oldest campuses in Connecticut. Its tall brick buildings are something right out of a photo shoot, and in the fall, the changing leaves make it look magical but the library is one of my favorites. The dome shaped ceiling gives it so much light that even on the stormiest days you can see with the natural lighting. With three stories and a basement there's enough books in here to fill the whole town, but unlike other universities with their wooden desks and hard chairs, Sterling has a much more modern layout. Their love seats and small couches give the perfect comfort to those students who spend almost all day in the library studying. Namely, me. I pull open my laptop and run through the list of books I need for my project before making my way through the aisles. When I've found four of the six books that were suggested, I make my way back to my couch and come face to face with the arrogant ass himself. Brooks.
"What in the hell are you doing here?" Brooks looks up at my sharp tone and smirks.
"Well, hello to you too, Scarlett. We're in the library, what do you think I'd be doing?" I cringe at the use of my full name as he holds up a book that was sitting on his lap. No one calls me Scarlett. I hate it and he knows it.
"Oh my god, you read? I thought you were just looking at that for show until one of your little puck bunnies strolls by so you guys can go bang in the bathroom," another smirk and this one grants me a slight chuckle. I roll my eyes before adding, "And it's Letty!"
"Puck bunny, huh? So you watch me play? Or you're just so smart that you know everything there is to know about hockey and our little groupies?"
"Ugh. Gross. I never claimed to know everything but I'll go with the latter. There's no way in hell I'd ever watch you play hockey." But that's a total lie because I watch every single game. I've been a fan of sports ever since I was little and growing up mostly around nothing but boys made me watch the games even more.
"Yeah. Sure. I bet you sit there in the stands admiring my hockey butt and going home to touch yourself.
Oh no, wait. I take that back. Miss know -it- all doesn't do things like that now does she? No, ‘cause she's too busy studying and being a buzz kill." My eyes roll so hard that I think they might fall out of my head. His claim makes me so angry but I won't dare show it.
"You wish I fucking touched myself to the thought of you. But sorry to burst your bubble, dude, you're not my type. And my social business is none of your concern." Brooks' laugh echoes off the marbled floor and people's heads start to swivel toward us.
"First of all, I'm everyone's type. I mean who doesn't find this attractive-" he stands up and lifts his dark grey T-shirt to expose his rock hard eight pack. Jeez, he's chiseled. His hands motioning up and down his torso and I can't help but gape at it. God, if he was any other man I'd be on him like white on rice. Running my fingers up and down the curves of his muscles, licking between the grooves of his abs. Whoa. Okay, Letty, calm it down. "- and second, I could care less what you do in your free time, Scarlett. You wanna touch yourself to me, go right ahead and if you don't then you don't." He shrugs and begins to sit back down.
"Um. Not so fast, Jerk face!"
"Jerk face?" His bemused smile almost makes me laugh.
"Yes. Jerkface." I shake my head to concentrate on my thoughts and not his boyish grin, "That's my seat, now get the hell up and go somewhere else." Brooks looks at me, his eyebrow arching and then looks down at the couch. He turns back to look at me before sitting down and lifting his legs up to sprawl out on the couch.
He breathes out a sigh of comfort, "Ahhhh. So comfy. You should really try this couch, I think it might be the best one I've ever sat on."
I almost stomp my foot like a child but choose to roll my eyes instead. "Ugh. You asshole. Fine! You want my fucking seat. Take my fucking seat. I'll go study in the dining hall." I grab my books, my bags and check out the library books I need to study before stomping my way to the dining hall. I could have very well just found another seat in the library but with Brooks in there, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out. Ugh. Fucking Brooks!
Chapter 2
Brooks
My eyes are closed but I can still see her face. Her smug, gorgeous little face. Those golden brown eyes, strong cheek bones, button nose and perfect lips. God, I can't stand her. Scarlett Jenkins is one of the most annoying girls I have ever met and what's even more annoying is how little Brooks responds to her. Damn bastard. Stay down! Every time I see her, my blood boils and my dick stands to attention. It's like my mind and my body are on two different planets and they can't seem to find their way back to each other. From the first day I laid eyes on Scarlett, my body tingled with heat. I literally got goose bumps when she looked at me and I had to discreetly hide my hard on so that she wouldn't think I was a creep. Yeah, so much for that logic.
We got grouped up in our intro to sociology course freshman year and I thought it was going to be the best thing ever. Flirt with the hot girl, get some sex and get a good grade on my project. Nope. That's not how it went at all! From the moment we got paired up it was like she already had her mind made up about me. She looked at me as some dumb jock with lots of cash, who didn't give a shit about my grades let alone other human beings. Well, fuck her! So, when hockey practice that year started getting in the way of her schedule for project work, I stopped showing up all together. I did my portion on my own and she did hers. That didn't work out as well as I thought it was going to, and we ended up just passing because our theories and outlines didn't coincide and the professor could tell that we didn't work together. Which was kind of the whole point of the project-to see how well opposites can work together toward a common goal- and boy did we prove the theory right. Opposites don't work. Never can. Never will. Her judgey eyes and attitude are enough to make me want to throw my fist through a wall. If only little B got the memo, too.
So now here we are, two years later, and we both still despise each other. I wouldn't go so far as to say I hate her, because, well, damn have you seen her body? Tall, curvy, white milky skin with grabbable hips. And that ass. Oh my God, that ass. I could write poems about that ass. Even when she's wearing the baggiest pair of pants her ass stands out. And don' t even get me started on her tits. I'd put her at a C cup, maybe approaching a D, but damn. I want them in my big hands. I want to squeeze them so tight her eyes roll back. I want to pinch her nipples between my fingers and hear the whimper of a sound escape her mouth. God, that mouth. The things I could do to that mouth. The things she could do to me with that mou- NOPE. Stop fucking thinking about her that way!
Shit. Now I have a fucking erection in the middle of the library. God, damnit. I hate that girl! Hate her! Yup, I said it! It isn't enough for her to taunt me with her sexy body but then her sass just keeps me coming back for more. I love how quick she is with words. How mad I can get her. She infuriates me beyond words but I can't deny that I love our banter. Sometimes I think I do things on purpose, just to get her to argue with me. Nope. That's a lie. I know I do things on purpose to get her to argue with me. Like today. I saw her come into the library and A- line to her couch that she always sits on. So when she got up to go find her books, I purposely took her seat, waiting to see her reaction. She got so angry she stormed out. If only she knew that I had the other two books that she needs for her project on Freud.
When we were in class last week, I saw her write down ideas in her notebook and she circled Freud as I was passing. Like the asshole that I am, I went to the professor and asked if I could do my project on Freud-only my project is going to be the complete opposition of Scarlett's which means we'll have to debate and I couldn't be more excited to see her reaction to it all.
I finally decided that a book isn't doing very well at covering my hard member and find it fitting to try to distract myself. Food is the best bet. Unless a girl walks by me and wants to fuck in the library bathroom, I think food is the only option at this point. I'm used to having girls throw themselves at me, hell, I've been used to it my whole life. Money and famous parents will do that, but when I got to Sterling, it was like every single girl dropped their panties for me and were just in line waiting for me to get to them. Well, every girl except one. Don't get me wrong, I love having girls throw themselves at me, but sometimes, I just get....bored. Sometimes I want someone to chase after. Someone to give it back to me. To put me in my place. To ground me. But when those thoughts pop in my head, I have to cut them down like a tree. Why the fuck would I ever want that, when I get that shit from Scarlett? And the girl won't even let me bang her! Nope. I don't need that shit from anyone else. God, she's exhausting. Did I mention, I hate her?
As I make my way into the dining hall, I'm greeted with slaps on the shoulder and girls’ eyes fluttering at me, as if to flirt or some shit. But one thing catches my eye. Her. Damnit! I forgot she said she was coming here to study! Great! Guess there's only one thing to do.
"Well, look who it is," I put my big tray of food down and Scarlett gives me a look that could kill, "How's studying going, Scarlett?" She lets out the biggest sigh I've ever heard before slamming her book shut.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn't the cockiest bastard I've ever had the displeasure of knowing. So, what? Did you purposely follow me here to piss me off some more?"
I snicker at her comment before planting my ass in the seat across from her. "If you must know, there's a thing called hunger. And usually when that happens people need to fuel themselves with some food before they keel over and die-"
"If only," she mutters in the middle of me talking.
I raise my eyebrow at her little hit before continuing, "- this is me fueling myself." I motion to the food on my plate.
"Mmm. That's so interesting to know, Brooks. I just hope that you're not as smug to the dining staff otherwise I'd be in serious worry of having spit in your food." Scarlett shrugs and I can see a little smirk at the corner of her lips. She finds this conversation amusing. Good. So, do I.
I look down at my food then look back up at
Scarlett. Her eyes screaming I dare you to eat that food and I do. I take my fork and shovel a huge forkful of brown rice into my mouth. And just to piss her off even more, I make the most ungodly moans and groans of appreciation. Watching her face twist in disgust only makes me happier. It takes everything in me not to crack up, spitting my food out at her. But then she says the worst thing she could have possibly said.
"God, I hope you don't make those sounds when you're coming. I’d feel really embarrassed to witness that." I choke on my food. Literally, choke on my food. And if the blush on her cheeks is any indication, she didn't mean to let that slip out. When I finally compose myself, swallow my drink and have breath in my lungs, I look directly at her and say, "You wish you knew the sounds I made when I was coming." I shrug looking her up and down. Making it known that I'm trailing my eyes over her body slowly before continuing, "If only little Scar-Scar was lucky enough, she just might find out one day. Hell, maybe that’s all you need, a good dicking from me." My eyes went wide, now it's my turn to blush and her turn to choke. Damnit. I didn't mean for that to slip out either! But shit, now that it's out I can't wait to hear what she has to say.
Scarlett looks at me. Eyeing me carefully, as if trying to figure out if what I said was the truth or a joke. Trust me, I wish it was a joke, but there's a part of me that really wants to know what sex with her would be like. She places her forearms on the table and leans in, eyeing me like she can see into my soul, "In your dreams, Brooks."
I mimic her pose, we're so close that I can feel the heat of her breath on my face. We’re inches a part and if I really wanted to I could take her lips with mine. But you don't want to! I remind myself but the little guy doesn't get the memo and I can feel him trying to bust through the zipper of my jeans. Shit! "In your dreams, Scarlett." We stare at each other for a while longer. Time stands still but then there's a hand on my back and it snaps my attention away from Scarlett. I turned around to see my best friend Nate. "Yo dude, you ready for this weekend? I figured we could go make a few pit stops to get some extra liquor for the party, since we'll get back late from the game." I nod and go to return my attention back to Scarlett but when I turn around I notice she's no longer here. She fled the minute my back was turned. Damn shit. And to think, I was having fun. I scarf down the rest of my food and make my way out of the dining hall with Nate.