The Campus Jock: A College Bad Boy Romance

by Serena Silver

  But Marika returned his smile easily, quickly dissolving his overthinking into a puddle of happiness. I must remember that my name is Marika now, she thought.

  Chapter Four

  Marika flowed into Jon’s life seamlessly. The days seemed to meld together in a happy, mellifluous state, filled with gentle banter and the tender excitement of getting to know a new partner. They began to learn each other’s sense of humor, their likes and loathes and before either one realized it, they had become best friends. At first, Jon had been extremely wary of Marika, reading into every word she said, trying to determine what she wanted from him but as the weeks began to pass, Jon saw no sign of deceit in the woman. The opposite seemed true. They stayed up late into the night, talking and laughing. Marika loved to cook, and suddenly Jon found himself eating healthy, delicious food.

  “You’re a natural!” he declared one day. “You can throw anything into a pot, and it comes out tasting amazing. How do you do it?” Marika shrugged modestly.

  “Back home, vee learning the cooking early. Our mother to teach us how to cooking ven we are just children. Vee take pride in the food making for our man.” Jon had felt himself blush like a schoolboy at the thought of being her man, but he did not push the issue and vowed to take things very slow, lest he scare her off. He knew that it was old fashioned, but he found it endearing that she wanted to look after him. I want to look after her too, he thought. I want to keep her with me as long as she will stay. His hopes were not high that she would remain in his life but he refused to allow his mind to venture in that direction. I will enjoy her as long as she is here. I will not allow dark thoughts to ruin the little time I have with Marika.

  The third week after Marika had arrived, Jon had to fly to California unexpectedly to meet a client.

  “Come with me,” he had begged. “Everyone who comes to America wants to see California!”

  “I do not meaning to offending you, Jon but my motherland is much more beautiful than fake American city. I have no interest in to see Los Angeles. It too big and busy for me.” Surprised by her low desire for the promise of glamor of glimpses of famous people, Jon reluctantly left for his business trip, a deep sense of foreboding gnawing away at his guts. She is not going to be here when I come back, he told himself as he boarded the 8 a.m. flight to LAX. His trip was scheduled to be three nights and four days and three times on his way to the airport, he almost canceled. He wanted to run home and be with Marika, but his deeply seeded work ethic won out. I can’t let my business fail. It will be the only thing I will have left to hold onto once Marika decides she is finished with me. The first two days passed slowly, and while he maintained contact with Marika constantly throughout, he could not shake the feeling that she was stringing him along, making him believe that she would still be there, doting on him when he returned. His idealism had been soured by his experience with Simone and Amber, but he could not help but feel cautiously optimistic with Marika. She had never given him cause to question her intentions, no matter how he tried to uncover her reasoning for being with him. Jon had not pushed the issue of intimacy with Marika, setting her up in her own bedroom and allowing her privacy. She had rewarded him with gentle kisses on the cheeks and had recently begun giving him nightly massages despite his protests.

  “You are very stress,” Marika had argued, pulling his shirt over his head. Feebly, Jon tried to argue, but in the end, he had found himself face down in the double bed in his room, being kneaded almost expertly by Marika’s surprisingly strong hands.

  “You see?” she demanded, straddling his boxer shorts, her long, legs tucked upward. “Your back is hard like rock!”

  Jon did not want to tell her that his back was not the only thing hard. Think of something asexual. Think of ostriches. Think of Joe Pesci. Think of what Chris would say if he could see this scene right now. He would say, “Hey lardo, how much did you pay for this?” But even with Chris’ mocking in his ear, Jon could not help but melt under the sensuality of Marika’s warm touch. As she continued to knead the knots in his back and neck, he found himself wishing she would kiss him but the rubbing never led to anything but Jon being able to move his neck a full range of motion, something he had been hard pressed to do before.

  On the third day of his trip, he returned to the hotel just after six p.m. He had barely had time to exchange texts with Marika for his client had monopolized much of his day with trivial matters. But he had also noticed that she had not reached out to him. He tried to ignore the fact, but he was slowly becoming alarmed by her silence. By the time he pushed his way into the single room at the Ramada, he was mentally drained. He sent Marika a message telling her that he was finally done for the day, but she did not respond immediately, so he decided to jump in the shower. You’re just overtired. A hot shower will clear your head and relax you. As soon as you’re done, she would have texted, and you’ll see you’ve just been acting paranoid. As he disrobed, he examined himself critically in the full-length mirror. As steam filled the small bathroom, he looked at his slightly overweight form. He was tall, over six feet and for that reason, he was able to carry a bit more than the average person but he still needed to lose fifteen pounds, and he had since childhood. Despite Mary-Anne’s attempts to enforce strict diets upon him with tasteless, low-calorie foods in his teens, it seemed that Jon was destined to remain pudgy.

  “If you got your ass off the computer and hit the gym once in a while, you wouldn’t be such a lardo, lardo,” Chris had told him on numerous occasions, but Jon had about as much desire to join a health club as he did for a root canal. His stomach was too flabby, and his arms and legs needed toning. He had a nice face, large, brown eyes which reflected intelligence and warmth. His cheeks were round, again from slightly too much fat but when he smiled, he produced dimples on both sides of his generous mouth. Of all his features, Jon was complimented on his smile the most. His teeth were perfect, something even his older brother could not claim, straight, white and even. While Chris and Tristan were very fair, with lighter brown eyes, some Native American ancestor had donated a tan pigment to Jon’s complexion, branding him with a swarthy air. If a passerby did not look too closely, they might catch a glimpse of some warrior aura in his make-up. Even after spending minimal time in the California sun, Jon was already turning bronze, but he knew that he would lose the parlor when he returned to the freezing Connecticut winter the following day.

  Mist had swirled throughout the small washroom, covering the glass in which he was staring. Jon slipped into the shower. His phone was perched on the counter in case Marika returned his message, but by the time he had finished washing the day’s grit from his body, she had still not replied. Slightly concerned, Jon tried again after he had dressed in his pajamas. He had planned to go to the hotel restaurant for supper, but he was insurmountably tired. He opted instead to order a pizza, and he was hoping to speak with Marika on the phone before bed. He desperately longed for the sound of her charming, lilting accent. Her language mistakes delighted him, and although she insisted that he correct her English, he refused.

  “Jon, I can’t making good speaking if you don’t telling me vat I doing wrong. How can I changing if you don’t helping me?” she had told him sternly.

  “I don’t want you to ever change,” he had told her honestly.

  Jon waited for a few more moments and then reached for the phone book on the desk beside his open laptop. I wonder what she is doing, Jon thought as he flipped through the Yellow Pages looking for a local pizza parlor. Jon had ensured that he had left her enough money to go shopping and entertain herself in his absence. He had even left her his platinum Visa card for emergencies. He was suddenly wondering if he had made another huge mistake. Jesus Christ, she’s probably taken my card and gone to Hawaii or something. She was just waiting for me to get comfortable so that she could run off with my money. Why don’t you ever learn? What is wrong with you? You need to see a shrink. You have a problem. Woefully, he slammed the book shut, no longe
r hungry as panic filled his stomach. Why do you let yourself fall for these women? He was furious with himself. What is wrong with being alone? Lots of people are very happy alone. Why do you feel the need to put yourself through this repeatedly?

  Jon stood up and began pacing the room. I’ll check my credit card statement online. If there is weird activity, I’m going home. He didn’t need to stay until the next day. His flight was booked for 11 a.m., but his business with his client was finished. I need to go home and see if she’s still there. I’ll call and see if there’s a flight out of LAX tonight. Making his decision, he sat back down, looking at his phone again hopefully. There was still no reply from Marika. Sighing, he punched in his passcode to his computer and opened the screen to his web banking. As he typed in the credit card information, dread growing in his stomach, he was interrupted by an incoming Skype call. He did not recognize the caller and his immediate impulse was to ignore it, but he realized it might be one of his clients. Gritting his teeth, annoyed at the disruption, he answered.

  “Hi Jon.” Relief and happiness threatened to suffocate him as he saw Marika’s smiling face appear on the screen.

  “Hi! You’re okay! I was worried about you!” he choked, excited and slightly ashamed at his lie. Her brow furrowed.

  “I am sorry to have vorrying you. I have busy day today.”

  Jon nodded understandingly, but his mind was racing. What were you doing? Why didn’t you text me?

  “Me too. I’m glad you’re fine. What did you do?” he said instead, forcing his rogue mind to ease.

  “Oh…just some things,” she replied evasively, and Jon realized he did not recognize the background behind her.

  “Where are you?” he demanded with more sharpness than he intended. She looked surprised.

  “I am home,” she answered, looking confused but as Jon leaned forward to take a closer look, Marika obstructed his view by placing herself directly in front of the webcam.

  “Are you sure?” he asked suspiciously, but Marika laughed, adjusting the screen.

  “I am sure,” she replied. “I am in bedroom.”

  Again, Jon was confused.

  “Whose bedroom?”

  “Jon, I am at your home. How are you doing?”

  Jon tried to stifle his worry, but it lingered in the back of his mind. Marika adjusted the screen to allow for the screen to take in her curves. For the first time, he realized that she was wearing only a filmy negligee. He quickly averted his eyes in embarrassment.

  “Vy do you looking away?” she asked. “You do not liking?”

  Jon nervously cleared his throat and nodded eagerly, his face heating as he took in her full breasts pushing against the thin fabric.

  “You look beautiful,” he breathed, feeling himself grow hard in his flimsy pajamas. Marika smiled, showing white, perfect teeth and nodded.

  “I miss you,” she told him, her hands slowly circling her graceful neck, fingertips tracing her slender clavicles. Jon cleared his throat again.

  “I miss you too,” he replied, shifting uncomfortably in the office chair in which he sat. Her hands found their way to the satin straps on her shoulders, and she began to lower them, the cloth slowly slipping down her full bust, exposing small, hard nipples. He could see small goose bumps forming on her smooth bust and the skin surrounding them.

  “I wishing you are here with me,” she whispered. She stood, allowing the nightgown to fall to the floor. He took in her flat stomach, curvy waist and small tuft of dark blonde hair between her perfectly sculpted thighs. Heart hammering, he watched as she lifted the laptop and with her breasts at the camera, she walked to the bed. She lay the computer at the foot of the bed and slipped onto the sheets, staring into the camera.

  “What are you doing?” Jon heard his voice ask, in spite of himself. He regretted the words as soon as they were spoken but Marika only smiled again, her tongue darting out to lick her luscious lips.

  “I am to show you vat is vaiting for you ven you come for home,” she told him. She reached over to the bedside and picked up a bottle, unscrewing the caps and pouring a small amount of liquid into her palms. Drops fell from her fingers like oily rain against her flawless skin, and she began to rub it over her bouncing breasts, deliberately tracing her tongue about her mouth she continued to look into Jon’s eyes. His heart hammering, his own hands shifted his manhood as he watched Marika’s touch move down her body toward her hips, shiny streaks making a trail as if to guide his gaze. Her long fingers were at her crotch now, parting her sweet lower lips apart, showing a gleaming wetness.

  “Oh,” Jon moaned as his erection jammed against his pants. He could not stop himself from releasing his intense throbbing member from its confines and into his waiting hand. He willed himself to have self-control as Marika began to gently rub at her button, her sensual mouth parted, her tongue darting about her between her teeth as her breath quickened. But as one finger became two and the intensity increased, Jon felt himself slowly stroking himself along to her rhythm, wishing desperately that he was the one making her moan. Her index and middle finger swirled in the juices seeping from her, and suddenly she dipped them inside her, her nipples rubber balls of pleasure now. In and out, she inserted her long fingers, her free hand still caressing her model-like body, running over her moaning lips and teasing her rigid nipples. Her eyes began glazing over, and her tongue moved faster over the red, parted mouth. Jon’s breathing matched hers, his hand picking up speed against his organ. He was going to cum, but he did not want Marika to stop what she was doing. Her hand picked up motion, and she was fingering herself roughly now, gasps escaping her lips as her body tensed. Jon could not stop himself, leaning forward to stare as Marika began to orgasm by her own hand. A slow moan escaped her lips, and Jon felt an incredible tension in his sack as hot streams of cum flowed from him onto his pants. In unison, the two grunted, their liquids spilling forth. Jon sat frozen, covered in stickiness, his eyes glued to Marika’s hypnotized face and lowering to watch as fluid licked her inner thighs in trickles. A sweet sigh escaped her and slowly, she removed her fingers from her depth and sat up. The haziness seemed to fade from her eyes, and she smiled at Jon, lifting her soaked fingers to her lips and sucking them. He was lost in the intensity of her ethereal eyes, still consumed with heat.

  “Come home soon,” she told him and disconnected. Jon was left paralyzed, staring at the computer screen long after she had signed off. She loves me, he told himself. She didn’t go anywhere! She wants me, and she wants to be with me. She is going to be there when I get home!

  He rose to his feet and went to wash, his legs trembling slightly. I was worried about nothing. I didn’t push her. She came to me all on her own. She really is mine. He stopped to look at himself in the mirror over the sink, and he immediately averted his eyes guiltily. He realized was trying to ignore the fact that he did not recognize the bedroom where Marika had been sprawled.

  “Marika” had been extremely busy in Jon’s absence. When he had brought up the business trip, she had seen her opportunity and seized it. From the moment he had left for the airport, she had not stopped, barely sleeping in her rush to get everything accomplished. It was a blessing that Jon had not gone online to check his credit card statements for he would have been in for a shock. Marika had spent thousands of dollars, more than she had intended but once she had gotten started, she had been unable to stop. She had been riddled with guilt at the initial use of the credit card in which she had been entrusted, but she had silenced the condemning voices in her head. It is necessary, she justified. It must be done.

  She sat staring at her cell phone, waiting. She knew Jon would be home soon. I wonder if he will be angry, she thought, a sick feeling of worry in her stomach. She again pushed the dark thoughts out of her head. Well, it is too late now. He must learn to accept it whether he likes it or not. There are going to be some changes around here, and he needs to adapt.

  Jon texted to say he was at Bradley International Airport an
d was on his way home. When he arrived at his apartment, he found Marika outside the door, pacing the hallway, biting her nails.

  “Marika, what are you doing out here?” he asked, rushing toward her. “Did you lock yourself out?”

  She shook her head and embraced him nervously.

  “I…I doing something vile you leaving,” she confessed breathlessly. “I spending all your money.”

  Jon pulled away from her hug, feeling his blood drain into his shoes. She’s just like all the rest of them. Of course she is. She is too beautiful for you. She deserves someone more attractive than you. Don’t lose control. It is not her fault you are a lard ass. Don’t let her see you get upset. Just send her on her way. She only wanted money after all. You saw this coming so you can’t be that surprised. You can cry when you’re alone.

  “It’s okay,” he replied, gravely, reaching for the doorknob. “You wouldn’t be the first to do it.”

  Marika looked confused. Her brow furrowed and she stared at him for a moment.

  “But – you don’t even knowing – “she started.

  “I’m sure it was very noble. You needed it for astrophysics school or something equally important,” Jon said, his voice caked in sarcasm and pain. She immediately sensed his despair, but she did not comprehend his reaction.

  “I don’t understand,” Marika told him. He doesn’t even know what I’ve done. I cannot imagine why he would be sad!

  “Yeah, I bet you don’t,” Jon answered grimly. He had been waiting for the other shoe to drop since Marika had arrived. The previous night, he had laid awake thinking about her immaculate skin, her infectious smile and the bedroom he didn’t know. He knew something bad was coming, he could feel it in his bones. He had hoped to prolong the inevitable, at least for a short time but it seemed that Marika was determined to lay it on him as soon as possible.