PMU Boxset 2

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PMU Boxset 2 Page 23

by MacMillan, Jerica


  At that point he lost all finesse, hammering his hips into hers, and she opened her eyes to watch him, his focus now on the point where their bodies joined. Soon his face crumpled in concentration, eyes closed, and he pulled her hard against him as he thrust into her, holding her in place before repeating the motion again and once more, his body shuddering with his orgasm and his fingers digging hard into her skin. He slumped back on his heels, his muscles now slack, his chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon.

  His eyes opened slowly, connecting with hers. She smiled at him, and a matching smile spread across his face as well. He kissed her again, still tasting of her.

  When he got up to deal with the condom, she sat up and pulled on her panties and shorts followed by her bra. She was reaching for her shirt when his voice stopped her.

  “Leaving already?”

  She looked up to find him with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorway of what she assumed must be his bedroom, unconcerned with his nakedness or the fading erection framed by the cut V of his hips.

  Pulling the tank top over her head, she stood, a twinge of guilt pulling at her. But she nodded. “Yeah. You said you had a party tonight, so I don’t want to make you miss it.”

  “You could come too.” His steady gaze didn’t let on if he was inviting her just to be polite or because he really wanted her to come.

  It didn’t matter. She didn’t want to go to a party. “No.” That did provoke a reaction, a flicker of disappointment that he quickly masked. Interesting. “Hannah moved us over the summer, and all my stuff is still in boxes. I need to get unpacked and organized before classes start next week. I have no idea where anything is.”

  He nodded, a half smile coming to his face. “I understand. Next time, maybe.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  With two long strides, he crossed the small living room and pulled his shorts on, not bothering with underwear. She picked up her purse and moved to the door while he did that. Once he was zipped and buttoned again, he came over to her, ran a hand down her arm, and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Call me if you need to talk or want to play video games to get your mind off things again. Okay?”

  She gave him a smile that she didn’t really feel. Now that she was leaving, all the crap was rushing back in. The respite all too short. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He opened the door, and she gave a little wave as she stepped out, aware that he watched her walk down the steps to her car. But when she glanced back at his door before climbing in, it was closed.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Straightening her shoulders and willing her face to look more like someone who had a good life instead of the shitshow hers had become, Elena pushed open the doors of the communications building and walked into the late August sunshine. Only the second day of classes, and already she was disappointing people left and right. Mostly the debate coach, who she’d just met with to inform her she wouldn’t be participating this year.

  She gave the excuse that she was still helping with her father’s business, which was true. They still didn’t know if he’d be able to take over again, so she was trying to keep it in a holding pattern until a decision could be made. But that meant she spent her free time building websites for people and putting consulting clients on a waiting list until her father came back. That’s what she told them, anyway. After talking to her mom over the weekend, she wasn’t feeling very hopeful that would ever happen.

  But between working for her father and keeping up with classes, she wouldn’t have time for debate. Plus, she needed to take the LSAT in October, since she hadn’t been able to take it in June like she’d planned. Her father’s accident had been two weeks before the test. Things were so crazy that she’d rescheduled for the October session. So she had that to study for as well.

  They were all valid excuses, but the real reason was that she didn’t have the heart for it anymore. It seemed so trivial when there were so many other things going on. While it might provide a distraction, she didn’t have the focus needed to do well on the debate team. It was better for everyone if she backed out.

  Adam, her debate partner from last year, had been disappointed when she’d told him she wouldn’t be participating this year. She’d texted him right before meeting with the coach. She hadn’t wanted him to start spreading the word before she’d had a chance to talk to the coach, but she’d wanted to tell him herself, even though she’d wussed out by texting instead of calling.

  Her phone vibrated in her hand, and she looked at it, slowing to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

  It was Adam. This sucks. I can’t believe you won’t be on the debate team. How are you going to make this up to me?

  She laughed while she thought over what she could offer him. I could make you a pie.

  You said you’d do that anyway.

  Yeah, she had told him that already. In fact, she’d already made him the Dutch apple pie he’d requested. True. Your pie’s ready, actually. I made it last night.

  Awesome! But that’s not enough to make up for not being my debate partner this year.

  Seriously, dude?

  A familiar voice sounded from behind her. “Blocking the walkway?” She turned around to see Daniel, shaking his head and tsking at her in mock reprimand, a smile pulling at his lips.

  “Hey, Daniel.” Her phone vibrated in her hand, pulling her attention back to Adam.

  Seriously.

  She shook her head at him. Fine. I met a cute freshman girl over the weekend. A friend of a friend’s little sister. She doesn’t know many people here. I’ll introduce you.

  His response was immediate. Sweet! Her phone buzzed again, but she put it away, smiling at Daniel. “Sorry about that. A friend is annoyed with me for not doing debate this year.”

  Daniel’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re not? How come?”

  She shook her head, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Not enough time with everything.”

  He grunted in response, a noncommittal sound. “What are you up to now? Do you have class soon?”

  Glancing at the time on her phone, she shook her head. “Not for another hour. You?”

  “Same. I just got done with my morning workout, so I was going to get some coffee and a snack. Wanna join me?”

  “Sure.”

  She fell in step beside him, not for the first time noticing how much taller than her he was, the top of her head even with his armpit. It only added to his appeal. Most of the guys she’d dated had only been a few inches taller than her five foot five. Once she’d dated a guy who was six feet tall. Daniel was taller than him, though, by several inches. And broader. And more cut. With large hands and long, elegant fingers that he knew how to put to good use.

  They walked in silence, which made Elena shift her backpack on her shoulders, feeling more awkward the longer neither of them spoke. She didn’t know him well enough for silence between them to be normal and comfortable, especially since she hadn’t talked to him at all in over a week. He’d texted her the day after the wedding, inviting her to dinner. She’d declined, once again citing her need to unpack and organize her things. He’d wished her luck, and she hadn’t heard from him since.

  Would he bring up the fact that she’d blown him off twice in a row?

  But he didn’t. He didn’t say anything, and she didn’t know what that meant.

  “Um, how’s football going?”

  He glanced down at her, eyebrows raised. “I thought you didn’t pay attention to football.”

  “I don’t. My brother played baseball. And we both played real football, what you call soccer, as kids. American football didn’t rate in our house.” She grinned at him while she made her digs, suppressing the memory of her dad ragging on American football while he kicked the ball around with her and Tomás as kids.

  Daniel chuckled. “Real football, huh?”

  “Well, it actually uses feet and balls. American football? It’s played with a weird obl
ong thing, and you only kick it in very specific circumstances. Most of the time it’s being thrown or carried. Why is it called football, then?”

  Daniel laughed again, warm and full, shaking his head. “I have no idea. But it’s going okay. We lost some good players last year. Integrating the new guys always takes a while, but the last week of practices has been going well. Our first game is this weekend. It’s even a home game.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You coming?”

  She shook her head, climbing the stairs to the student center that housed the on-campus coffee shop. Before she could pull open the door, Daniel’s hand was there, but he held it closed instead of opening it. She looked up at him, and his face was almost serious, but the skin around his eyes crinkled, and his lips twitched like he was suppressing a smile.

  “Why not?”

  “What?”

  “Why aren’t you coming to the game? Where’s your school spirit?”

  She laughed at that. “I’ve never been big on school spirit. And you already know I’m not a football fan. Why would I go?”

  He gave a careless shrug, but it was immediately contradicted by the intensity in his face, the hint of a smile gone. “To watch me play.”

  She studied him, uncertain what he really wanted here. “Daniel …”

  A cheeky grin appeared on his face, breaking the moment, and he opened the door. “Fine, fine. Don’t come this time. But I’ll get you to one of my games this season, just you wait.”

  Grateful for the sudden change, she latched onto the playfulness in his tone. “Oh really?” she threw back. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “I will.” Her breath caught when his eyes met hers, the raw desire and intention there nearly overwhelming. But he’d turned away before she could say anything more, waiting behind the guy finishing up his order in front of them. Stepping up to the counter, he gestured for her to order first. “My treat.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  He sighed and shook his head, cutting off her stumbling protest. “I know I don’t have to. But I have to get started convincing you to come to a game, don’t I?” He gave her a wink, and nodded toward the barista again.

  She looked him over again, wanting to protest, because letting him buy her coffee and going to his games seemed way too much like the beginning of a relationship. And she was in no way capable of handling anything like that right now. But the sweet smile on his face had her giving in against her better judgment. “I’ll have a medium Caramelizer.”

  Daniel ordered his own white chocolate mocha and an egg and cheese sandwich while she claimed a table, setting her messenger bag on a chair so she could carry her own drink at least.

  Elena waited until they were both seated, and Daniel had taken a drink of his coffee before continuing their conversation. She wanted to ask him something anyway. “Since you bought me coffee, and I still won’t come to your game this weekend,” she gave him a pointed look, “how about I make it up to you a different way?”

  He choked a little as he inhaled some of the sandwich he was chewing. Coughing, he reached for his coffee, shaking his head. “Um, that’s not necessary. I mean, you can always do that if you want anyway, but you don’t owe me anything for buying you a stupid coffee. I mean last weekend was—”

  Elena’s eyes widened, and she yelped when he said that last part, making him stop. “That is not what I meant. I’d just come right out and tell you I wanted to fuck you again if that’s what I was talking about. Dios.” She covered her face with her hands and shook her head. “I was going to say that I could make you a pie.”

  He stared at her, his face blank. “A pie.”

  “Yeah. You know, it’s round, made with crust, filling. Pie.” She made a circle with her hands then mimicked rolling crust to illustrate her point as she spoke.

  “You want to make me a pie?”

  “Yes. What kind of pie do you like?”

  He blinked at her a few times. “Like a real pie. To eat. This isn’t a euphemism for anything.”

  She sighed. “No. For God’s sake. I already told you I’m more direct than that. I mean pie. Real pie. That you eat. Yes.”

  “Um, okay. Sure. You can make me a pie. Like from scratch?”

  He seemed dumbfounded and she couldn’t help laughing at his reaction. “Yeah, from scratch. What kind?”

  He shook his head, obviously thinking. “I don’t know. Hmm. How about a chess pie?”

  It was her turn to blink. “A what?”

  “Chess pie. You haven’t ever had it?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve never even heard of it. Is it hard to make?”

  Shrugging, he gave her a look that clearly said, How should I know? “I’ve never made a chess pie before. Or any pie, really. Not from scratch. My mom’s secret recipe was always to put a deep dish apple pie from the freezer section into her own pie plate.”

  Elena laughed at that, and Daniel smiled. That adorable face melted her more than his flirting or even his stunned spluttering at what he thought she was originally suggesting, endearing him to her, moving him farther into friend territory from random hook-up land, which was how she’d been thinking of him until now. Even if he was a repeat hook-up.

  “So your mom didn’t make chess pie? Where did you have it?”

  “Oh, she did, just not very often. The store bought apple pie in her own pie plate was her lazy dessert for company. She made pies at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and one of them was always chess pie. My grandma always made it growing up. You’ve seriously never had it?”

  “Nope. I’ll look up a recipe, though. I’ll let you know if I don’t think I can.”

  He grinned again. “Sweet. I usually only get it on holidays.” Finishing off his sandwich, he looked thoughtful, his brows coming together. “Why a pie, though?”

  Elena looked down at her coffee cup, turning it in her hands. “Oh, I just like to make pies. I find it relaxing when I’m stressed or need to think. I’ve been making a lot of them lately, and even though I have two roommates, we can’t eat them all. So I’ve been finding people to give them to. I thought you might like one, that’s all. I’d’ve offered even if you hadn’t bought me coffee.”

  When she glanced up, his eyes had softened with sympathy.

  “Nope. No.” She pointed a finger at his face. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’m holding myself together with duct tape and paperclips these days, and if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to lose it. And I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Aside from the embarrassment of blubbering in public? I think if I give in and really let it all out, I’ll never stop crying.” She sniffed, looking up at the ceiling and blinking to dispel the tears that had gathered in her eyes despite her best efforts to keep them in check. Taking a deep breath, she willed them away, running her fingers under her eyes to wipe away any stray tears that may have escaped.

  When she met his gaze again, the sympathetic look was gone. Thank God. Instead he sat back in his chair, looking her over, examining her.

  “What?”

  He shook his head slowly. “Nothing. Just thinking that if you need another way to de-stress, you can always hit me up for another round of Mario Kart. That worked pretty well last time.”

  She chuckled. “You planning on it ending the same way as last time too?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “I wouldn’t object to that, but that’s your call, not mine.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” The sudden influx of students made her look around and glance at the clock on the wall. “Shit. I have class in five minutes. I gotta run. Thanks for the coffee. If I don’t see you before this weekend, good luck with your game. I’ll text you about the pie, okay?”

  They stood together. “Sounds good.” His hand closed on her arm after she slung her bag across her body, stilling her as she went to reach for her empty cup. He dropped
a kiss on her cheek, grabbed their trash, and headed for the trash can a few feet away. She watched him for a moment, then left for her poli-sci seminar.

  Daniel was a good guy. Understanding, sweet, and could fuck like a god. And all of that made him both tempting and dangerous. She could lose herself in a guy like that. And as much as that sounded like a great idea, she couldn’t handle letting anyone else into the mess inside her head these days. Besides, she was busy. Busy with class, busy with her dad’s business, busy studying for the LSAT. And busy worrying about her dad, worrying about her mom, and feeling guilty that she was so relieved to be away from them both.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Daniel groaned when he heard the doorbell ring.

  “I got it!” Coop called from the living room.

  Daniel rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. He was fucking tired. His legs felt like stretched out rubber bands after all the running he’d done—those fucking freshmen dicking around had made Coach Hanson run the team extra hard—on top of his lower body workout and run this morning. He’d already iced down in the training room before coming home, but he needed to stay on top of the ibuprofen tonight or he’d never be up to his usual speed by the game in two days.

  And now Coop had someone coming over and hadn’t bothered to let him know. Fan-fucking-tastic. He wasn’t in the mood for some random chick in his space drooling all over his roommate—and all the girls drooled over Evan Coopman with his dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and the smile he claimed dropped panties faster than the speed of light. Sometimes if Daniel was in the living room when Coop brought his latest conquest home, the chick would look at him and decide she was super kinky and offer a threesome if he wanted to join in. Which he didn’t. Ever.

 

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