Convenient Fall (Players of Marycliff University Book 2)

by Jerica MacMillan

  “That asshole's my problem!” They were both yelling, as much from anger and frustration as the need to be heard. People around them stopped and moved away, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire of a budding fight.

  Megan narrowed her eyes at him and tried to punch him again. He caught her wrist before she could make contact. “Watch it. I don't like being hit.”

  She twisted her arm in his grip, catching him off guard and going against his thumb so that he was forced to release her. “And I don't like assholes interrupting me when I'm trying to have a good time!” She turned and stormed back inside.

  Chris didn't let her get far before he was after her. With the press of people going in and out of the door, it wasn't hard to catch up. He followed close behind her until his front almost touched her back. She cast a glare over her shoulder, but didn't say anything. She pushed through the crowd, headed for the living room.

  Lance sat on the couch with Abby in his lap, talking to some of their mutual friends. Lance looked up when Abby started to get off his lap. Before Abby and Megan could get to each other, Chris swooped in and pulled Megan toward the front door. Lance watched all this, and he stopped Abby with a hand on her leg, tugging on her hand to convince her to sit back down. Chris lifted his chin in Lance's direction in thanks. Abby didn't look like she was going to give in, but he saw Lance say something and she relaxed back into him.

  Too bad Megan didn't give in as easily. She struggled against his grip, but since he had her by the upper arm, she couldn't do that twist thing to get away again. He dragged her out through the front door, away from the bulk of the crowd so they could speak without shouting (not that he thought that was going to happen) and they'd be less likely to be interrupted. When he was satisfied with their location, he dragged Megan around to face him and let her go.

  That might have been a mistake, since she immediately stepped in to hit him again. They were open palm slaps against his chest, more to vent than to try to hurt. At least he hoped so. From the way she'd almost punched him in the kidney, he was pretty sure she'd be punching him if she wanted to try to hurt him. Which she did next. Hard. Right in the solar plexus. He bent at the waist as his breath whooshed out with a grunt.

  With his head closer to her level she started shouting at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you interrupt my dancing and then drag me out here!” She slapped him on the cheek next. That stung. “Don't you ever manhandle me like that again!”

  He straightened up, rubbing his cheek. “You done?”

  She tipped her head back to glare at him. Man, she was pissed. “I’m not sure. It depends on what stupid thing you do or say next. I might have to knee you in the balls.”

  He grunted in response and ran a hand over his face to cover the smile that was fighting to get out. If she thought he'd let her get close enough to get his balls, she'd be in for a surprise.

  She stared at him, waiting. After a minute she threw her hands up in exasperation. “Are you going to answer me? Or should I hit you some more until I feel better?”

  “What was the question again?”

  She took a step toward him, and he readied himself to block a strike to the groin. Instead, she got right up in his space and he could smell her shampoo. “I asked you what. The. Fuck. Your. Problem. Is.” She emphasized each word with a smack to the chest.

  He grabbed her wrist, tired of being used as her personal punching bag. “Enough. I took it when you hit me earlier because I deserved it, but that's enough.” He crowded into her personal space even more, bringing his body flush against hers. Her head was tipped back, her eyes wide, her lips parted. He wanted to kiss her. He'd been wanting to kiss her for months now. And he wanted her more now than he'd ever wanted anyone before. “As for what my problem is, you're my problem.”

  At his words, the pissed off expression took over her face again. “What the hell does that mean? I haven't done anything to you!”

  “Fuck, Megan. I can't stand watching you dance with all these other guys, seeing them put their hands all over you, groping you. And you seem to like it. Are you out fucking around while Matt and I are gone? Having parties at our house so you're not home alone?”

  She gasped and her nostrils flared. He caught her hand before it made contact with his other cheek. She struggled against his grip, but he didn't let go.

  “How dare you? You have no right to accuse me of anything! You're the biggest manwhore I know! You fuck any chick that you have your eye on and dump her the minute you're done! How dare you of all people say that to me?”

  She was struggling against him, so he put her arms behind her back, wrapping his arms around her middle, keeping her pressed against him, trapping one of her legs with both of his so she couldn't make good on her threat to knee him in the balls. Her tone was laced with venom, and he almost recoiled from the bite. Except he was getting more pissed off too. He was a manwhore?

  But Megan wasn't done. “And it's none of your fucking business if I'm fucking anyone. You're my roommate, and a shitty one at that. I don't need you scaring off guys who I just want to dance with.”

  “That asshole wanted more than just a dance.”

  “You think I'm too stupid to know that? Just because he wants more doesn't mean I'm going to give it up.”

  “What do you mean I'm a shitty roommate?”

  She laughed at him. “You barely say two words at a time to Matt or me. You're rude and standoffish.”

  She started struggling again. With the way he held her, her breasts were pushed against his chest and they rubbed back and forth with her movements. He could feel his body start to react. “Matt told me to back off and leave you alone, so I did.” He spit out the words through gritted teeth.

  Megan stopped struggling and looked up at him, eyes wide. “Why would he do that?”

  He thrust his now hard cock against her belly. “You really don't know the answer to that question?”

  Megan's eyes grew even wider, and he couldn't be sure in the dim light, but he thought her cheeks went a little pink. Who knew Megan could be made to blush? Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and it was all Chris could do not to groan. “Why would …? What …? I don't understand.”

  In answer to her inarticulate questions, Chris pulled her closer and crushed his mouth to hers. She stiffened at first, but relaxed into him, opening for him when he began questing with his tongue. Her lips were soft, and he could taste the beer from the party. He wondered how much she'd had. She didn't seem drunk.

  When he pulled back, she was staring up at him, looking a little dazed. He released her, letting her step back. She brought a hand to her mouth, never taking her eyes from his. Her pupils were dilated, her eyes hooded. He felt smug that he'd managed to take her from pissed off to aroused with one kiss. Or maybe, like him, she'd already been aroused from their fighting. He reached for her free hand. “Let's get out of here.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Where are we going?” Chris had her by the hand and Megan stumbled along after him toward the sidewalk. His legs were a lot longer than hers and he was apparently in a hurry. “Chris! Slow down!”

  He stopped and turned to her. “What?” The look of determination on his face changed to something else. Disappointment? “Sorry. I thought—” He looked away, over her shoulder back toward the house, and let go of her hand. She felt cold now that he wasn't touching her at all. “Do you want to go back to the party?” His voice was flat and dull.

  “What? No. That party was crappy anyway. I just didn't want to get dragged behind you. I like walking.”

  Relief suffused his face, followed by a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

  She smiled. “It's fine. Just slow down a bit, yeah? There's no fire.” He reached for her hand again, and she laced her fingers through his. They started down the sidewalk at a more reasonable pace. “Where are we going?”

  He glanced down at her, the hesitation back in his expression. “Home?”

  When they got
to his car Megan pulled out her phone to let Abby know she didn't need a ride. The drive home went by in charged silence. Chris didn't touch her again, but kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Her skin was still sensitized from his touch and she shivered at the memory of his cock jabbing into her belly. She wondered what it would feel like against her skin, in her hand, inside her. It looked like she'd get to find out soon.

  She was aware of him, every movement, every gesture, every expression. His hands were clenched on the steering wheel, making the muscles in his arms bulge. He ran his hand through his hair a few times, mussing it, making it stand on end. It was short, but just long enough to grab hold of. The thought of what they could be doing while she ran her hands through his hair and held on made her squirm in her seat, warmth and wetness pooling between her legs.

  As soon as he threw the car in park, both their seatbelts were off and they were up the steps. Chris made short work of unlocking the door and pushing through it, closing it behind her. He turned the deadbolt and then he was on her.

  He pulled her back in front of the door and pushed her up against it. His mouth was on hers, demanding entrance and capitulation. His anger from earlier was undimmed, just channeled in a new direction. She met his demands, his anger, with her own. She was turned on but still pissed off at him. For flirting with her over the summer then turning cold. For acting like an asshole. For interrupting her dance tonight. For dragging her around and acting like he owned her. For accusing her of being a slut. Not that fucking him now would prove him wrong, but she was horny and it had been a long ass time. She'd wanted Chris for a while, and she was tired of pretending otherwise. He obviously felt the same way.

  His hands gripped her hips, pulling her against him, grinding her against his cock. He palmed her ass and lifted, never breaking the kiss. She wrapped her legs around him, her arms going around his neck, clasping together and hanging on.

  Chris held her there, supporting her weight with his hands, and rocked against her center. Megan groaned into his mouth.

  With that, he pulled her away from the door and carried her into his bedroom, his mouth still on hers, navigating by memory. It's a good thing they didn't let the house get too messy. He lowered her onto his bed, only breaking away once she lay sprawled on the mattress. He stood up and looked down at her with hooded eyes. “You look so fucking sexy sprawled on my bed with your hair a mess.” He crawled on top of her again before she could respond. His hands traveled up her sides under her shirt and reached around her back to undo her bra.

  Megan pushed on his chest and he sat up, letting her up too. She yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it along with her bra off to the side. That look on his face when he saw her topless was her favorite thing. His hazel eyes were darkened with desire. She’d put that look there. It made her feel wanton, sexy, powerful.

  She lay back, arms up by her head, open to his gaze. He leaned forward and let his hands travel over her skin again, this time with nothing in the way. His hands were warm and rough, and she gasped when his callused fingers tweaked her nipples. He smiled down at her, his eyes meeting hers, and did it again.

  Then his mouth was there. His tongue traced circles around each nipple before drawing them into his mouth one at a time. She arched into him, her fingers now in his hair like she'd imagined in the car. Deciding she'd had enough attention paid to her breasts, she tugged on his hair and brought his mouth back to hers. His t-shirt felt rough where it brushed across her oversensitive nipples. She began to pull up his shirt so she could run her hands over his torso, starting at the sides and roaming around over his back. His skin was smooth and she relished the feeling of his muscles bunching, his shoulders tight from holding himself over her.

  He sat up and yanked his shirt off, throwing it like she had, and was immediately on her again. Their tongues dueled and she pressed herself against him, enjoying the feeling of his skin rubbing against hers.

  He reached his hand down between them and undid her jeans then sat up and shucked them off her in one motion. He stood, removing his shoes and his shorts and boxers before he reached for a condom from his bedside table.

  Megan took a moment to admire him. His chest and arms were well defined and his stomach was flat. A happy trail led from his belly button down to where he was rolling on a condom. Mmm. He was a nice size. Unless he was just a lousy lay, this should be good.

  Fully covered, Chris looked up at her, his eyes sweeping down her body and back up to her face. He knelt on the bed between her legs and ran a hand up her inner thigh, spreading her legs open so he could access what he wanted. He brushed a hand over her pussy, letting his fingers trail across her mound. He did it again, more firmly. The next time, he spread her open and let a finger trace across her opening, around her clit, and back down again before slipping inside her. He pressed up, making her rock her hips, pressing herself into his hand, enjoying the feeling of his finger hitting whatever spot he'd found deep inside her. He pressed his thumb into her clit and let another finger join the first, getting her wetter.

  She'd already been soaking her panties before he'd stripped them off of her. Was he going to give her an orgasm with his hand? She hoped he did and hoped he didn't at the same time. She liked the way it felt better when she came on a cock. Though his fingers did feel pretty amazing. All the heat in her body felt like it was focused between her legs where he stroked her. She clutched at the sheets, her body tightening, her hips rocking into his hand, her back starting to arch. And he pulled away, leaving her whimpering and needy.

  He locked eyes with her and grinned, then slid his hands under her ass, pulling her toward him, and plunged home. Megan's eyes almost rolled back in her head. It had been months since she'd had sex, and the feeling of him filling her up was exquisite.

  “Holy fuck, you're tight.” Chris moved back and surged into her again. He started out slow, each thrust hard and deep, but leaving space between them. The angle he'd found was perfect and Megan couldn't help but groan each time he hit that spot, her arousal rocketing higher with each thrust. Soon, he picked up the pace. One hand left her ass and settled over her mound, his thumb sliding down to stroke her clit.

  “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.” The words spilled out of Megan like a chant. Her body tightened, her back arching, and she exploded, all her tension unraveling as the pleasure took over.

  Chris leaned forward, planting his arms on either side of her head, and picked up the pace even more, prolonging her orgasm and chasing his own. Soon he thrust hard again, and again, and he held himself against her. She was still experiencing the aftershocks of her own orgasm while he shuddered above her, his eyes tightly closed. He let out a groan and collapsed against her. He lay there for a moment, his arm and half his torso on top of hers, his cock still inside her. His weight on her felt nice, firm and warm on top of her. Too bad it wouldn't happen again.

  After a moment he got up and left the room without a word, leaving the door ajar. Megan sat up, starting to look around for her clothes. She spotted her jeans and panties first and climbed off the bed to get them so she could get dressed again. She heard the water running in the bathroom. Hers was the only room with an en suite. The guys shared the other bathroom.

  The door opened and Chris came back in the room. Megan glanced up at him. He stood there naked and unselfconscious, his cock still half hard. She dropped her gaze, focused again on untangling her panties from her jeans so she could put them back on.

  “What are you doing?” Chris still stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and a frown on his face.

  She got her panties on and stood up, crossing her arms too. He might be unselfconscious about his nudity, but she felt at a distinct disadvantage standing in his room wearing only her panties. “Getting dressed.” She kept her voice neutral, but this was a strange conversation. She hadn't pegged Chris as the type to want a cuddle and some pillow talk after sex.

  He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up some more. “I see
that, but why?”

  Megan's mouth hung open for a moment before she recovered herself. “Well, we, uh, finished already. I thought …”

  He lifted an eyebrow as she trailed off. He stepped all the way into the room and pushed the door closed behind him. “You thought I was done?”

  Megan made a feeble gesture with one hand. “Aren't you?”

  Chris stalked toward her, pulled her close, and wrapped his arms around her. “Not even close.” He kissed her, his tongue sliding against hers, and pulled her back onto the bed with him. They made out for a while until Chris was ready to go again. This time was slower and they both lasted longer, their initial lust having been satisfied once already.

  Once again, Chris disposed of the condom in the bathroom and came back, pulling Megan onto the bed. He turned off the light and pulled her against him, back to front so they were spooning, his arm heavy around her middle.

  Megan lay wakeful in Chris's arms, trying to parse through what this meant. They'd had sex. Twice. It had been really good both times. He'd surprised her by pulling her back into his bed after both rounds.

  First, she'd never done it twice in one night before, not even with a steady boyfriend. Second, she'd always heard that Chris was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am kind of guy. A quick fuck and you're done. Why had he pulled her back into bed, especially the second time? She'd been prepared to leave, though she hadn't started getting dressed again. But she hated the awkward conversation with a one-night stand where one person wants the other to leave. She always expected to leave afterward unless the guy asked her to hang around a while.

  She'd never had a one-night stand fall asleep with her before. While she wasn't wildly experienced, she was no virgin, so this was unexpected. Chris's breathing slowed, and she felt him relax against her.

  The front door had opened and closed a while ago, indicating that Matt was home. She wanted desperately to get back to her room, but didn't want to talk to Matt on the way. Especially since she hadn't even talked to Chris yet. Talking hadn't been much of a priority since they'd gotten home.