The Campus Jock: A College Bad Boy Romance
Page 59
Ben could go on to have a family. He had a chance to bring so much good to the world. He could go on to be with Larissa or even have his heartbroken, but the chance of finding out what life had in store for him was worth the tradeoff. Ben had so much life ahead of him still; it would be wrong for her to make him throw all that away for an early arrival to the afterlife with her.
She cradled his cheeks in her hands. She leaned in and kissed his lips. Tears began to spill from her eyes. Ben wiped them away with a brush of his hand and pulled her waist in closer. He squeezed her body against his and kissed her with urgency, the urgency of someone who knew they were saying goodbye forever.
Juliana pushed Ben down onto the bed and straddled him. She looked at him. She did her best to commit every detail of his body to memory. She examined his thick brown hair and his smooth, muscular chest. She ran a hand through his hair and closed her eyes and felt its thickness.
He pulled her down to him and kissed her again. He ran his hands down her body and squeezed her hips. She felt his dick pushing between her legs. She pressed back against it. Ben’s hands slid up her body and, as sure as they always were, smoothly removed her clothes in a matter of seconds. She smiled. He was always good at that.
“Juliana,” Ben started to say something, but Juliana silenced him with a kiss.
“Don’t,” she said, “Just love me one more time.”
Ben kissed her harder and slid his fingers into her slit. She arched her back, and a moan escaped her lips. His fingers slipped up and down inside of her until she was soaking wet.
She reached down and wrapped her hands around his erection. She ran her hands over his shaft a few times, marveling at how hard it felt. It pulsed a bit in her hands. She leaned over and took him in her mouth. She slowly pumped up and down, taking a bit more in with each time. He felt so good in her mouth. She moaned. Ben squeezed her breasts, and she felt herself start to drip with anticipation.
“Wait,” he said suddenly, and he pushed her away. She smiled. She knew he couldn’t take much more… he wanted to stop before his pleasure got the best of him.
Ben bent down and licked her between her legs. Juliana put a hand over her mouth to silence her scream. She squirmed, and Ben pinned her legs down.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked playfully.
He held her tightly by the hips and slowly drew his tongue back and forth. He was playing with her, teasing her. She started to rock her hips into him, and he sucked on her. He slid a finger back into her and pressed hard against her. She ground her hips harder against his face. He shoved another finger into her and used his other hand to grip her breast. He thrust his tongue into her. She pressed away from him and arched her back as she came in hard, pulsing waves. She shivered a bit and lay exhausted on her back on the bed.
Ben climbed to his knees and kneeled above her for a moment. He held his dick in his hands, and Juliana spread her legs apart, eagerly awaiting him.
He slid inside her. He was tentative at first as if he thought he would break her. She smiled and pulled his hips closer to hers. She could handle it. He pushed all the way in, filling her up. He groaned. Although he was warm on top of her, chills ran through Juliana’s body. She rocked her hips in time with his deep thrusts. He bent over and sucked on her nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through her body. He knew exactly what she liked. He kissed her hard and bit her neck gently. He rode her harder and her pleasure started to build up quickly. She grabbed his chest and braced herself for her second orgasm. She squeezed her hips around him and it rocked through her like her was being struck by lightning. She dug her nails into his chest and hung on as she writhed in pleasure.
She felt his thrusts become more and more intense. He was slamming into her with an urgency she hadn’t ever experienced. She hung onto him and closed her eyes, letting the feeling wash over her.
He pulled her in close to him. He came powerfully inside of her with a few pounding thrusts. He held himself inside of her afterward, not wanting to move. She didn’t want him to move either. She held him in her arms. She felt content. This felt right.
After a few moments, Juliana gently pulled away. She knew this couldn’t last forever. Chris had been able to borrow them sometime, but that was dwindling.
“Juliana, I love you,” Ben started. Juliana saw in his face how he was struggling.
“I know, and I love you too,” she paused for a moment.
“But I think we both know what you have to choose.”
Ben stared at her in silence. He nodded.
“I wish that…” he trailed off. Juliana smiled.
“I know,” she said, “there are so many things that I wish we could change. So many moments I wish we could go back to. I wish we had just a little more time together.”
Now it was Juliana’s turn to wipe them away.
“Ben, you have so much to live for. You have so many opportunities left to explore. You have to stay. You have to see where it all leads. I know you’ll miss me, and I’ll certainly miss you, but I won’t be far. I promise I’ll be watching. You may not hear from me, but know I’ll always be by your side.”
Juliana kissed Ben one last time. He smiled. Juliana pulled her clothes back on.
“I’ll let your dad know you’re ready. Goodbye, Ben.”
“Goodbye, Juliana. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said.
She stepped into the hallway and heard Chris in conversation with a familiar voice.
“Hi, Grandma,” she said and reached out to hug her.
“Chris, Ben’s ready.”
“He’s going to stay?” Chris asked although he seemed to already know the answer.
“Yes,” Juliana responded.
“And you’ll be alright?” He asked.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she responded, “I can’t wait to see him experience the rest of his life. Thanks for all your help.”
“Grandma,” she turned towards her grandmother, “I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier, I…”
“No need to apologize darling, I know what you were going through. I was just talking to Chris—he refused to leave the house for almost ten years, until he knew Ben had a date to prom. When his step-father came to get him, Chris punched him in the face.”
Juliana laughed. Ben was his father’s son. And now one day, Ben would be able to see his kids go to prom. And Juliana would be there, watching over them.
Chris walked into the bedroom and said his goodbyes to his son. He kept his distance because Ben was still naked, but he did give him a hearty handshake.
“I’ve been watching, son, and you’re amazing. You’ve made me more proud than I ever could have imagined. I love you, and I’ll see you later. When it’s your time, when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Ben said, “I love you, too. I miss you every day, so does mom.”
“We’ll all be together again eventually. Until then, have some fun,” Chris smiled and left the room, meeting Juliana and her grandmother in the hallway.
“Let’s get out of here,” Juliana took her grandmother by her hand.
“Yes, let’s go, sweetie. I can’t wait to show you around,” they turned toward the end of the hallway and it lit up with a blinding white light. The three of them walked toward it until they disappeared inside.
Stranger
A Suspense Romance
Bridget Lowe
Stranger
Copyright 2017 by Bridget Lowe
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed
as real. Any resemblance to a person, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Warning: Due to mature subject matter, such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older, and all acts of a sexual nature are consensual.
Chapter One: Trying to Make a Living
The rain drummed its lazy fingers on the top of Tiffany’s tarp canopy. She triple checked that all of her canvases were tucked safely out of the way of the water dripping down the edges of her booth’s awning. The street was mostly empty. The few commuters who were trudging through the weather were too busy dodging sidewalk puddles to stop and look at her art. She groaned softly and rested her forehead on the rickety table in front of her with a muffled thunk. The rain whispered a rhythmic lullaby over her head.
The grating sound of someone clearing their throat brought Tiffany’s head up in a jerk. Had she drifted off for a moment?
“Did you paint these?” A young man with a strong jaw and appraising eyes loomed over her. A black umbrella hung from his forearm.
Tiffany immediately snapped to attention, “Yes, I did.” She struggled not to seem too eager, but it had been days since she had made a sale.
His eyes gave her a quick once over and glanced distastefully at the leak near one corner of her booth. Rain dripped through and splattered quietly near his shoe. Casually, he snapped a picture of her work and pocketed one of her business cards.
“Hey! Wait! You can’t just do that!” Tiffany stood up indignantly. With a bored look in his eyes, the man turned around and unfurled his umbrella. Tiffany could see a sleek, black car parked by the curb. An older man with white hair was waiting with an umbrella of his own. “I worked hard on—” Tiffany trailed off. He didn’t care. He didn’t even look back.
The older man opened the car door for the guy who was walking away. He wouldn’t look at Tiffany either. The two of them filed effortlessly into the car and drove away into the stormy afternoon.
Angry and disheartened, she shoved her paintings back into the totes she had brought them in and cleaned off her table. Her mood darkened to match the weather. No one was going to buy anything today. Tiffany had known it would be a long shot, but the man’s lack of courtesy after she had gotten her hopes up made her sour.
Puddles splashed around her boots, soaking the hem of her jeans. Tiffany juggled the totes as she tried to dig the keys out of her pocket. Splash! The keys plummeted into a pool of rainwater at her feet. Grumbling to herself, she leaned over and scooped up her drenched keys. Tiffany threw her pieces with a frustrated huff into the back seat and revved up the car engine.
The tires on her little, yellow bug were almost bald. Struggling not to hydroplane, Tiffany headed to her apartment on the other side of town. Her windshield wipers squeaked and streaked across the glass. Traffic did nothing to improve her mood. Finally, after a few red lights, she pulled into her apartment complex. Her dark hair was plastered to her face by the time she made it across the parking lot and into the building, shoes squeaking across the tile.
Tiffany slammed her key into the lock and wiggled it into place until the latch opened. The windows inside the apartment were propped open. Her roommate Hannah was perched in a threadbare chair with a steaming cup of tea in her hand.
“Did you swim here?” Hannah laughed goodheartedly as Tiffany dripped on their floor. Sensing the dark mood she was in, Hannah changed tactics, “Whoa, what happened? You look seriously pissed.”
“Some jackass came by the booth today.” Tiffany sat down and pulled off her shoes, “He took a picture of my art and then just walked away. Who does that?!” Her eyes narrowed in disgust as she remembered it.
“He didn’t buy anything? Just took a picture and left?”
“Yeah. It makes me feel like crap, you know? Like my art is less valuable. I worked hard on my pieces.” Her anger started to melt into a mellower sadness.
“I’ll make you some tea. Go dry off.” Hannah’s long legs unfolded as she padded her way to the kitchen.
Tiffany trudged to the bathroom and took a towel to her hair, “Do you have a tea for when jerks ruin your art and demean your entire existence?”
“Honey, I have a tea for everything.”
Tiffany’s wet clothes made a sopping pile on the floor. She tugged one of her ex-boyfriend’s hoodies down over her hips. It was one of the prisoners of war from their messy breakup. The kettle on the stove whistled. “I’m getting discouraged,” her hands squished her cheeks towards her eyes. She propped her elbows on the kitchen island.
“I know,” Hannah dropped a metal tea ball into an oversized mug with an owl on it. “But your stuff is great. One day, someone is going to discover you on the street, and you’ll become the next Banksy or Loui Jover.” She handed the mug to Tiffany who breathed in the steam.
“I think you have too much faith in me. What’s in this, by the way?”
“No, I believe in you just the right amount. Plus, that’s what I’m here for. I remind you that you sling a mean paintbrush, and you try my latest tea mixtures. This one is cardamom, rose hips, and blackberry leaves.”
The fruity, floral mixture was refreshing and soothing. “I think this is one of your best ones.”
Hannah beamed and brushed a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You could sell this. No, I’m serious. It’s excellent.” Tiffany insisted over Hannah’s embarrassed laughing.
“One of us has to have a steady job Tiff, or the rent will never get paid. It’s just a hobby.”
“When I make it big,” Tiffany took another sip, “I’m going to buy you your own tea shop.”
“Then you’re just going to have to keep painting, aren’t you?”
Tiffany’s phone rang from the bathroom floor, “Crap.” She rested the mug on the counter and jogged back to the pile of clothing she had just peeled off. “Hello?”
“Is this Miss Page?”
Tiffany didn’t recognize the man’s voice, “Look, if this is about the dentist bill, I already set up a monthly payment the last time you guys called me. That’s the best I can do right now.” She really didn’t want to deal with this.
“Miss Page, I think you are mistaken. I am not calling about a dentist bill.”
“Well, then what is this about, buddy? I’ve had a pretty shitty day, so can we just cut to the chase?”
“Very well,” the man cleared his throat, “Mr. Krieger would like to commission you to do some family portraits. Would you be available to discuss contract detail tomorrow afternoon?”
“Krieger? As in Krieger Hotels?” Tiffany’s voice was suspicious, “Yeah, right. Did Teddy put you up to this? You can tell him he’s never getting his hoody back.” She ended the call in a huff.
The phone rang again, “We seem to have lost our connection. Can I tell Mr. Krieger to expect you in the lobby of the hotel at noon?”
Wait. Was this guy serious? “Uh, yeah. Noon. I’ll be there.” She blinked wildly for a moment. Was this actually happening?
“Wonderful. I’ll let him know.” The man hung up the phone.
“What was that about?” Intrigue contoured Hannah’s face.
“Some guy said Mr. Krieger wants to meet with me tomorrow to discuss doing family portraits.”
“Seriously?!”
“Yeah. What are the chances of this being a prank from one of Ted’s frat buddies? I mean, come on. How would a hotel tycoon get my number?”
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
Tiffany spent the rest of the night googling Krieger Hotel and the man behind the business. Ian Krieger had graying hair and an almost-too-white smile. She wracked her brain trying to think of ways he might have heard about her, but nothing was sticking. She finally fell asleep, nervous about her upcoming meeting.
Chapter Two: The Art of Business
She shook her head to clear it and switched her attention from the hotel itself to the people in it. A few high-class women were lounging on an overstuffed sofa sipping daiquiris. Their jewelry sparkled beneath the lights. Businessmen in Italian suits bonded and brokered over lunch. No sign of Mr. Krieger or of Ted’s frat buddies.
The butterflies in her stomach were suddenly weighted down. She had gotten her hopes up against her better judgment. She walked up to the hotel bar, “Whiskey Sour?”
The bartender nodded to acknowledge her order. Her reflection looked back at her from behind a row of bottles. Tiffany’s eyes scanned the room behind her. She froze. A man with a strong jaw was sipping water at a table by himself. Tiffany’s lips pursed together. The disappointment of being pranked was redirected to fuel her anger from yesterday. She pushed away from the bar and walked briskly to the man’s table.
“Hey, remember me? You’re the guy that came by my booth yesterday and window shopped. Normally, I don’t have a problem with that, but you took a picture. You can’t just do that.” Her hands gripped the edge of his table.
Amusement lit up the man’s blue eyes, “Of course I remember you. I’m the one who set up the meeting.”
Tiffany’s breath caught in her throat, “Oh, come on. I was supposedly asked to meet here by Mr. Krieger. You’re not him. I’ve looked him up.” The man before her was not the salt and pepper haired businessman that had turned up in her google searches.
“I think you might be thinking of my father.” A smug grin curled the edge of his lips, “Let’s start over. I’m Luke Krieger.”