by Holly Dodd
Contents
Half Title
Blurb
Copyright
Also by Holly Dodd
Join the hive
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Acknowledgements
Excerpt of Pin Me Down
Excerpt of Theirs to Take
About the Author
Join the Hive
Brewhouse Book One
HOLLY DODD
Blurb
Jolene "Jo" Miller has been panting over her crush for years. He's everything she wants: a gentle giant with kick-ass ambition and a rock-hard body that she's dying to ride. The problem is, she's stuck in his friend zone due to one embarrassing reason - she's a virgin.
Jo's crush has no interest in popping her cherry. She'll need to take some drastic measures to get her crush's attention, and Jo has the perfect candidate to punch her v-card.
Kevin Harris is an unapologetic manwhore. With his panty-melting smile and chiseled body, he has his choice of tits and ass. His motto: hit 'em hard and leave them aching for more. Relationships aren't his thing, and they never crossed his mind until he met Jo. She's everything Kevin doesn't know he wants. She makes him tingle, and not just below the belt. But Jo's not into it, she's the only girl who doesn't want to ride the Harris express. They're just friends until Jo asks him to help her with some sexual education.
One kiss, one taste, he's hooked. Now Kevin must convince Jo that he's the perfect man for her. He craves being a permanent fixture not only in her bed, but in her life. Will she give him the chance?
Warning: This sexy romance novel contains a fed-up virgin who thinks she knows what she wants, and a reformed bad boy guiding her down a kinky path.
This is a standalone story with a HEA and NO cheating.
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 Pink Gables Publishing, LLC
http://www.hollydodd.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. For permission requests please contact mailto:[email protected]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Also by Holly Dodd
Theirs to Take
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One
Jo
I need to get over him.
He’s not interested.
You’re just his friend.
Stop being a spaz!
My mental mantra was in full effect as I slumped into my seat and prepared for the lecture to begin. I must have had a case of temporary stupidity when I picked my Thursday classes. I had not just one lecture, but two. This class, the lecture part of Physics, was the second for the day.
Doctor Willard hadn’t arrived yet, and I was already over being here. I wanted to be home wrapped up in a blanket and binge watching Jane the Virgin. Jane and I had a lot in common. The virgin part, not the artificially inseminated part.
Glancing around, I found that other than me, only a few students were in their seats. That wasn’t unusual. Those of us who diligently arrived early were a bit obsessive about being perfectly teacher’s pet prepared. I’d worked hard to attend the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and I wasn’t about to ruin it by being late or skipping classes.
Though, if I was being honest with myself, that wasn’t the only reason I’d camped out in the middle row of the stadium-style lecture hall fifteen minutes before class was scheduled to begin. The real reason began with an R and ended with an EGI.
Regi. Thinking his name gave me a delicious shiver. My nipples perked up, and I was glad I was wearing a bulky sweater. No one would be able to see that my boobs had the high beams on through the thick cable knit.
Stop it.
Scolding myself wasn’t working. It was time for a different plan. Shoving my book bag off my lap, it landed on the empty chair beside me with a quiet thump. I needed a distraction. Killing some time by organizing the inside of it was a decent enough strategy. Not that my bag was very messy. I liked being neat. Only a few papers had slipped their bindings. I dug out a pink gel pen from the bottom that I thought I’d lost, and uncovered a smashed granola bar I’d thrown in for a lunch time snack last week.
When that didn’t occupy me for long I pulled out my laptop and Physics book and arranged them on the desk. I stole a glance at my watch and grimaced. I still had a few minutes left. Willard wasn’t in yet, and Regi would be arriving soon.
Maybe he’ll be late.
Maybe there won’t be enough time for us to talk before the teacher shows up.
Maybe if I look really busy he won’t talk to me.
I didn’t know whether I was hoping he’d arrive late, or to pop in early so we could socialize. This was really the only time I saw him during the week.
My traitorous heart thumped too fast as excitement and adrenaline buzzed through my body. My knee jogged beneath the desk, and I tapped my pen against the edge of my book. Thump. Thump. Thump. It may as well have been a metronome synced to my heartbeat I was that keyed up.
I swear I had Regi-radar. The second he stepped into the classroom I felt him. The air changed, and everything I’d told myself blew out the window. I looked up and there he was, walking up the aisle towards his seat. The fisheye lights studding the ceiling wreathed him, guiding him like runway lights to his seat.
Regi was, simply put, delicious; sex walking on two enormous feet. He was Abercrombie & Fitch; soft tees and Henley shirts; chino pants and Chuck Taylors; tousled, curly hair and a pussy-eating smile. He was my obsession, and every intelligent thought I had about getting over him fled in his presence.
Regi had bulked up a lot over the past year. He’d gone from handsome to downright scorching. No matter where he went on campus he had a fan club. A few girls from class must have been waiting outside for his arrival because they were trailing in after him as if he were a pussy pied piper.
They weren’t lucky. Not like me. I got to sit practically next to him. Though it wasn’t luck that I had the seat I did. I might have stalked him the first week of classes with the advanced knowledge that Doctor Willard preferred assigned seats. Once you picked your spot, it was yours for the rest of the semester.
Lord, I swore he got hotter every time I saw him.
My pen found its way into my mouth and I chewed on the cap. Thinking about all the things I wanted to do to him, if given half a chance, had my girlie parts clenching in need.
I was flustered, and he hadn’t even looked at me. I almost wanted him to ignore me like he had before. Almost. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle that. I wasn’t invisible to him anymore, and I wasn’t sure if I loved it, or hated it.
At least when he didn’t know I existed I could watch him from afar and fantasize about what sort of lover he might be. Was he rough or gentle? Regi was huge, at least 6’3 and had all those yummy muscles just
begging me to dig my nails into them. Hell, his muscles had muscles.
I hoped he was rough. I wanted him to be rough. I wanted him to tie me down and do things I’d only read about. I wanted marks left behind that said he’d been there. That he’d had his hands all over me, and fucked me until I only remembered his name.
My brain nuked those thoughts quickly. Why bother going that deep into fantasy land when it was unlikely I’d ever get a chance?
I held my breath as he sat down with a quiet thud of his books. He turned and tossed me a slow smile. A smile that told me he knew that I was creaming my panties over him. His smile always made me burn. His full lips pulled into a lopsided twist, flashing me a commercial-worthy array of bright white teeth and suggestive thoughts. I was okay with the smile. It only sent the butterflies in my stomach into a mild frenzy.
It was his voice that sent me spinning. The deep bass rumble of it filled my ears, as if Bruno Mars was crooning just for me, and settled into my body. Lightning would be jealous of the heat which struck me. “Hey Jo.”
Lord, I was going to have heart failure. I couldn’t handle it. I wanted to crawl over the desks that separated us and lick him. I needed…
I got caught staring. Regi’s sorrel brown eyes twinkled with amusement as they met mine. Damn man knew the effect he had on me. Flames rushed into my cheeks, and I forced down the breathless, giggly sensation bubbling in my chest. “Hi Regi. How was your week?”
His grin deepened. He propped his arm on my desk and leaned into it. It was difficult to breathe when he was this close. “It was good. Are you coming to the Brewhouse tonight?”
The scent of his earthy cologne filled my nostrils. I wanted to sniff him like a drug addict because, well, he was my drug. One I’d never had a taste of. Only the fact that he would think I was absolutely deranged kept me from nuzzling his thick neck.
“You know Mia would skin me alive if I missed it.” I mentally sighed. Would I still have it this bad over Regi if we’d never been introduced?
While I’d been mooning over Regi for a year now, mostly from afar, the only reason he even knew my name was because my BFF Mia introduced us when she’d created the Brewhouse Bunch. The Bunch began as a collection of her college friends she’d wanted to keep in touch with once she graduated. Then it expanded.
Now we had a Facebook group, and as more people learned about her accidental social experiment, the more people attended. Once a week those of us who were free showed up and took over the Alehouse, a hipster-pub in downtown Madison. Sometimes there were loads of people, other times only a handful. Regi attended every one. I tried to, but sometimes my schedule didn’t allow for it.
Mia. If it hadn’t been for her I would still be the naïve little mouse she’d first met. I had been a bona fide country girl. Still was in a way. While my family didn’t have a farm, I’d grown up next to a stable. Dad was a horse trainer, and I spent my formative years following him around, learning how to muck out a stall and care for the beautiful beasts.
I’d been a hopeless case when Mia got her hands on me our freshman year of college. My wardrobe had been ankle-length skirts and dresses, baggy t-shirts, and mom jeans. It wasn’t like I wanted to hide my body or thought showing off skin was bad or sinful, I just didn’t know how to dress or anything about style. Mostly due to having been raised in a single parent household.
My mom had died when I was five, leaving dad to raise a girl. He’d done the best he could. But fashion hadn’t been something he thought of. I’d been a legit tomboy.
Without Mia I wasn’t sure I’d have made it this far into college. She’d taught me the language I needed to survive the city. She was my lifeline, a mashup of surrogate mother, sister, and non-judgey BFF.
Regi winked, drawing me out of my thoughts. “I’ll see you tonight then.”
“Yeah,” I bit my lip. But that didn’t stifle the moronic words which burst free. The moment I spoke I wanted to snatch them back. “Would you like to go together?”
So, okay. This wasn’t the first time I’d asked Regi out. This wasn’t even the second or third. You would think I’d get a clue by now. He wasn’t interested. But I always held out hope.
Maybe if he knew I was still interested…
Regi’s smile turned into a half-grimace and I wanted to die at the sight of it. Why couldn’t the earth open and swallow me whole? Anything would be better than listening to him stutter an excuse. “Oh, babydoll you know I’m not good for you. You’re too…”
He struggled to find the word. It was a blow to my self-esteem to watch him try and let me down easy.
Sadly, I knew what he meant. I knew why he wasn’t tempted. I was too pure. Too chaste. Regi liked a certain type of girl. He favored cheerleaders, sorority sisters, and sexually adventurous types.
I was none of the above. If you were to put sultry party girl on a scale, you’d find me clear on the opposite end of the spectrum. I was the definition of boring virgin. Not frigid, because damn my fantasies were rather hot, but not experienced. And surprise of surprises, Regi wasn’t interested in punching my v-card or helping me uncover the mysteries of sex.
I wanted to be a sex therapist. Do you know how perplexing it was that I would be doling out advice on intimate matters and I’d never, ever gotten past first base? It was humiliating and my biggest, darkest secret.
I wouldn’t have known why Regi didn’t want me if Mia hadn’t sat me down and told me. It’d been tough to hear, and I desperately wanted to change his mind. But she’d sworn me to secrecy after I’d cried myself stupid on her shoulder.
Mia was more his type, though they’d never hooked up as far as I knew. I think we were the only two girls on campus he hadn’t stuck his dick into.
I was really done with the crying, the rejection, and the crush. If only my mouth, and heart, would get with the program. I didn’t know if it was my heart, or my wayward hormones, that was sabotaging all my strategies to get over my infatuation.
Either way, it fucking sucked.
“I know. But what if I wasn’t?” There really was a filter missing between my brain and mouth. I’d been thinking of an idea for a while. A last-ditch effort to snare the man of my dreams. I just hadn’t meant to say it aloud, especially to Regi.
Regi’s eyes darkened, and took on the smoldering properties of coal. His eyebrows shot up. His heavy brow furrowed, casting his rugged features into brooding lines. The look shocked me to the core. Usually he was mysterious, exuding a chill come-hither that was like catnip to us college girls. But with that one look I could read every dirty thought he had.
About me.
About what he wanted.
Desire zipped through my body in a sudden blaze of pleasure. I hadn’t thought it possible, but Regi was attracted to me. His attention lingered on my face. But it didn’t stay there. In a classic red-blooded male move his gaze darted down to my boobs.
This is what I want.
I loved my chest. It was really the only part of my anatomy that I wouldn’t change if I had a million dollars and a Beverley Hills plastic surgeon. I had porn-star tits, full, luscious, and unlike those on the pink screen, real. And Regi was looking at them like he wanted to dive face first into my cleavage and motorboat the fuck out of them.
Could anyone really blame me when I arched my back and gave him a little show?
“I’m not sure I can answer that, Jo.” Regi’s voice dipped into a growl, and for the first time in my life a surge of feminine power filled me.
He wants me too.
That was all I needed to know. Regi might not realize it, but he’d just given me all the ammo I needed.
“I’m going to get my cherry popped.” I’d meant to whisper my confession to Mia, but with a glass of wine under my belt I had no volume control. I may as well have shouted my plan.
My voice carried through the lunch time crowd gathered at Olive Garden, a collection of college students and white collar workers glutting on all you can eat breadsticks and
pasta. I wanted to die as a few heads turned our way.
Did I just hear a wolf whistle?
Propping my elbows onto the glossy wooden table, I dropped my face into my hands. Great. Now the whole restaurant knew how pathetic I was.
Mia choked on a half-swallow of merlot. I hadn’t meant to kill her with my disclosure. She sounded as if she were dying as she coughed and wheezed.
Peeking through my fingers, I met her stare where it blinked at me over the rim of her wineglass. Her eyes were as rich as liquid smoke, and stippled with shock and awe. “Didn’t you get rid of your hymen problem as a sophomore to, what was his face, Dylan?”
Warmth detonated in my cheeks. I didn’t need a mirror to know I was the same shade as the damn cherry tomato drowning in my salad bowl. A few drinks gave me a wino flush, add on the embarrassment coursing through my body, and my nose was doubtlessly Rudolph red.
I grabbed my pasta sauce-stained napkin and hid behind it, just so I wouldn’t have to see her astonished face. “No. We got close…but. No. Just no.”
Hygiene hadn’t been Dylan’s forte, and I couldn’t force myself to give it up to someone who smelt funky. No matter how hot he was, and Dylan had been HOT. He’d been a psychology major like I was, and had been deep into the science of physical attraction between men and women. He’d taken the correlation of pheromones and sexual attraction to heart. No matter how often I tried to shove his stinky ass in the shower, he hadn’t grasped the concept that us modern women weren’t attracted to B.O.
Lowering my makeshift veil, I blinked over at Mia, waiting for something, anything to absolve me of my humiliation.
Mia was the type of girl that Regi liked. Not promiscuous, but adventurous. She had zero hang-ups when it came to sex. I loved her for it. I just wished she’d choose better boyfriend material. She wound up getting hurt, and watching little pieces of her self-esteem chip away over an unworthy guy wrecked me.