by Lauren Rowe
“Because, no offense, half the time it turns out they’re batshit crazy.”
I shoot him a snarky look.
“Sorry, but it’s true.”
“So let me get this straight. Batshit crazy freshman girls magically transform into perfectly sane ones at the start of their second year?”
He laughs. “Well, it sounds kind of stupid when you put it like that. I think what I’m trying to say is that some people, both guys and girls, need that first year of being away from home to get their batshit crazy out of their systems. Freshman girls in particular seem to have a harder time than anyone else grasping the concept that having a little fun with someone isn’t the same thing as finding a soulmate.”
I look at Clarissa, intending to flash her a look that says, Ding, ding, ding! We’ve found ourselves a cherry-popper, folks! But she’s engaged in a conversation with Dimitri. “Well, let me assure you,” I say to Tyler. “I’m not looking for my soulmate. And even if I were, which I’m not, I’m quite certain he wouldn’t be caught dead in a T-shirt that says God’s Gift to Womankind.”
Tyler chuckles. “Touché, little freshman.”
“How old are you, Tyler?” I ask.
“I just turned twenty-one.”
“Uh oh. I don’t normally go for guys under twenty-two. Batshit crazy, all of them.”
He grins.
“But I suppose if ever there was a reason to break my cardinal rule, it’d be you.”
Tyler bites his lower lip. “Lucky me.”
I smile coyly. “Very lucky you.” Holy shit! Who am I right now?
Tyler and I stare at each other for a long moment, the heat between us palpable. During the stillness between us, the song in the living room switches from a hip-hop thumper to a slow and sexy R&B groove.
Tyler doesn’t miss a beat. He leans right in to my ear. “Dance with me.”
Heat flashes onto my cheeks. I nod.
And that’s that. Tyler grabs my hand and leads me through the crowded kitchen like a medieval groom pulling his virgin bride to their marital bed. And just that fast, I can see my future in Tyler Caldwell’s delectable ass as he leads me toward the dance floor, as surely as if I were looking into a very muscular crystal ball. I’m going to lose my virginity tonight to God’s Gift to Womankind. And it’s going to be oh-so good.
Chapter Four
Once Tyler has found his preferred spot in the middle of the packed dance floor, he turns around, wraps his muscled arms loosely around me, and begins moving his insanely fit body to the slow and sensuous beat of the R&B groove. In reply, I slide my arms around Tyler’s neck and begin moving my body in synchronicity with his, letting my breasts brush lightly against his hard chest as I gyrate.
At my receptive body language, Tyler pulls me toward him, ever so slightly, apparently testing my boundaries. All righty, then. Time to make my lack of boundaries abundantly clear. I move closer to Tyler and brush my crotch lightly against his as I move to the beat of the music…and, almost instantaneously, I’m rewarded with the sensation of a hard-on rising up and nudging against my crotch. My breath hitches. My skin sizzles and pops. Delicious.
Tyler leans in to my ear. “You’re so hot,” he says, his breath warm against my skin.
My body explodes with excitement. “So are you.”
“I love the dress.”
“Thank you.”
But I’m not here to talk. I tighten my arms around his neck and grind my aching clit against his hard-on like a mewing cat on a scratching pole. It’s something I’ve been dreaming of doing with a hot guy for the better part of a year, and I’m not holding back. I must say, the reality of doing this far exceeds my fantasy of it. I grind harder, thinly disguising my movement as dancing, and Tyler responds in kind, thrusting his erection against my epicenter.
“Oh, Jesus,” I blurt, my body exploding into flames of desire.
Without hesitation, he lifts my thigh around his waist, a maneuver that opens my crotch to him like a blooming flower, and presses his hard-on against me with sniper-like precision.
I groan loudly at the incredible sensation, but, thank God, the embarrassing sound is swallowed by the loud music.
Tyler leans in to my ear. “Can I grab your ass?”
I nod.
Without hesitation, he cups my ass cheek in his large palm, pulling my body even more fiercely into his massive bulge. His lips brush my face and land on my ear. “I don’t want a relationship,” he breathes.
Boom. There it is. Exactly what Dimitri warned me was coming. “Neither do I,” I say into his ear. “Just…oh, God. Please don’t stop what you’re doing.”
Tyler’s lips leave my ear and brush gently against my cheek…and then make their way to my lips. His mouth skims mine softly. Briefly. And then again. Clearly, he’s asking for permission to kiss me. So I give it to him. I lean forward and brush my lips against his, making it clear I want him to go in for the kill. So he does. He opens my lips with his and slides his tongue into my mouth and, just like that, I’m a goner. Oh, God, it’s official. I want to have sex with this human.
We’re both on fire. Not even pretending to dance anymore. Kissing without inhibition. Dry-humping in the middle of the packed dance floor. Groaning into each other’s mouths while our hands furiously grope and grab. The pleasure I’m feeling is so intense, so shockingly sublime, I feel like I’m losing control of my limbs. I grind even more desperately into his hardness, kissing him furiously and quaking with arousal.
A faint fluttering announces itself between my legs, making me moan. I smash my body into Tyler’s and devour his lips even more fervently, grinding my crotch into his hard bulge like my life depends on it. Oh, God, I’m ramping up in ways I’ve never experienced before. Aroused and excited and swollen in a whole new, desperate way.
Someone behind me on the packed dance floor laughs sharply. And then I’m jostled on the shoulder. Another laugh. And just like that, the spell is broken. That warping I’m beginning to feel deep inside my core abruptly stops. I slide my thigh down and yank my crotch away from Tyler’s, suddenly ashamed of myself. I can’t believe I’ve been attacking this boy so brazenly in plain sight of everyone at this party. I can’t imagine what people must be thinking of me.
Tyler puts his palm on my cheek and his forehead against mine. “I want you,” he says simply.
I inhale his scent and my entire body melts into him. “I want you, too,” I reply honestly.
Tyler grins wickedly. “My bedroom’s upstairs.”
I nod. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Five
Tyler leads me up a staircase. My heart is racing. My crotch is throbbing. When we reach the middle of the stairs, a new song begins blaring from below in the living room. Pitbull’s “Come & Go”—a song about Pitbull’s self-proclaimed talent for bringing women to climax.
“Hey, they’re playing my song,” Tyler says playfully.
“God, I hope so,” I mutter. “Fingers crossed.”
“No need to cross a thing, pretty girl,” Tyler says. “Fingers, legs, or otherwise. I guarantee you’ll get off harder with me than ever before.”
I snort. “Well, if I get off once it’ll be…” I abruptly smash my lips together. What the fuckity am I doing? Now is not the time to nervously reveal your secrets, Zooey! But it’s too late. Tyler abruptly stops ascending the staircase, his body language making it clear he’s understood my meaning.
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” he asks.
I release Tyler’s hand, feeling self-conscious, but remain silent.
“Don’t be embarrassed about it,” he says soothingly. “You’ve obviously been with nothing but idiots and selfish bastards.” He smiles, takes my hand, and begins leading me up the stairs again. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you cross the finish line quicker than Usain Bolt.”
Relief floods me. “Oh, thank you,” I say lamely, like he’s offered to change my flat tire.
“In fact, I’ll m
ake sure you cross it more than once.”
I’m absolutely giddy. “Well, twice would be a nice bonus. But do it once and you’ll rock my world. I’ve been dying to finally know what it feels like.”
Tyler stops walking again. We’re now at the end of a hallway, standing outside a closed door. “Wait. You’ve never had an orgasm, ever? I thought you meant you haven’t had one with a guy.”
Crap. What the heck have I done? Not once when I’ve fantasized about finding a hot stranger to pop my cherry did I imagine myself having this conversation with him beforehand. Stupid, stupid, Zooey! “I haven’t had one at all,” I admit, my face bursting into flames.
“But…” All of a sudden, complete understanding visibly washes over Tyler’s handsome features. “You’re a virgin?”
There’s a burst of female laughter on the staircase behind us, followed by a low male voice.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else, please?” I snap.
Tyler grabs my hand and leads me through a nearby door. “You’re a virgin?” he repeats as he shuts the door behind us.
I smash my lips together, pissed at myself. I’ve always instinctively known revealing my virginal status before doing the deed with a stranger would lead to nothing good. Performance anxiety for the guy, perhaps? Or maybe my designated cherry-popper would turn out to be a virgin-fetishist who’d be a bit too excited to go where no man has gone before? I glance around the room, feeling like a trapped animal. My panicked eyes flicker across the posters on Tyler’s walls. Muhammad Ali. Usain Bolt. Some football player in a Broncos uniform. A poster of “The Four Greatest Michaels of All Time.”
“Zooey?” Tyler says, drawing my anxious gaze away from the posters and back to him. “I’m not judging you. I’m trying to understand the situation so I don’t mess this up for you. It’s kind of a big deal.”
I smash my lips together even tighter.
“You’re a virgin?” he asks a third time.
I exhale. “Yes.”
Tyler runs his hand through his hair. “But…are you a ‘Catholic Virgin’? You know, you’ve done everything there is to do besides actual intercourse?”
My cheeks feel hot. “No. I’ve done nothing but kissing and basic making out.”
Tyler looks positively blown away. “No one’s ever gone down on you?”
My chest feels tight. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about this. You’ll notice I’m not asking you about your sexual experience.”
“I wouldn’t normally ask, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing for you. No do-overs.” He furrows his brow. “I can’t believe you were going to let me have sex with you without bothering to mention you’re a virgin.”
“What difference does it make? Just do whatever you were planning to do before you found out. I’m sure it’ll be fantabulous for us both.”
He scowls. “Zooey, letting some random, drunk-ass dude at a party take your virginity, without even bothering to tell him the situation, wouldn’t have been ‘fantabulous’ for you. You’re lucky you got me, but you were playing Russian roulette. What were you thinking?”
Okay, now I’m not only feeling embarrassed but pissed, too. “So I’m getting slut-shamed by a guy wearing a God’s Gift to Womankind T-shirt? Is that what’s happening here?”
Tyler rolls his eyes. “The word ‘slut’ isn’t even in my vocabulary. I’m just thrown for a loop. We practically fucked each other down there on the dance floor and now I find out…” He sighs. “Look, this isn’t about me, okay? I just don’t want to fuck this up for you. The first time’s a big deal. You’ll remember it forever.”
“It doesn’t have to be a big deal. In fact, that’s my whole point. I’ve decided not to buy into all the pressure and hype about losing my virginity. I’ve decided it’s not a big deal.”
Tyler scoffs. “I don’t think you get to decide that. Whether you like it or not, this is going to be a lifelong memory for you. Not to mention, if I’m being honest, I’m worried you’re going to get weirdly attached to me afterwards. Turn into a Stage Five Clinger. Slash my tires. Light up my phone.”
“I thought this wasn’t about you.”
“Yeah, well, I guess it is. It takes two to tango, after all.”
I roll my eyes. “I won’t get ‘weirdly attached’ to you, Tyler. After you relieve me of my virginity, I promise I’ll never want to see you again.”
Tyler looks utterly unconvinced.
I cross my arms over my chest. “You were perfectly willing to screw me a minute ago when you thought I had lots of experience. So what’s the difference?”
He rolls his entire head, not just his eyes. “You really don’t know what you don’t know. Your first time, the guy needs to be extra gentle. He needs to talk you through it and make sure you’re okay every step of the way. He shouldn’t be some drunk-ass guy at a party who has no idea it’s your first time. For God’s sake, Zooey, at the very least, find yourself some nice guy who’ll buy you a fucking cheeseburger beforehand and then be sober enough to drive you safely home afterwards. Jesus.”
I clench my jaw. “Was your first time some sort of beautiful, poignant experience preceded by cheeseburgers?” I ask caustically.
“Yeah, it was, actually,” he replies. “It was beautiful and poignant and poetic.”
I feel myself blush. “Oh.”
Tyler snorts. “Just kidding. It was completely meaningless. My best friend’s stepsister’s cousin. I don’t even remember her name.” He snorts again. “But that’s why I know for a fact you don’t want to do it that way. I’m a dude and, afterwards, even I felt a little bit like I should have waited and done things differently for my first time. I can’t even imagine how I would have felt if I’d been a girl and done it that same way.”
I put my hands on my hips. “If you’d been a girl? Do you have any idea how sexist a comment that was?”
“Sexist? How the hell am I being sexist? All I want to do is fuck you right now—that’s all I want to do. And yet, despite how badly I want to do that, I’m respecting you enough to protect you from doing something you’ll more than likely regret. How the fuck is that sexist?”
“Because your ‘respect’ and ‘protection’ are completely paternalistic.”
“Paternalistic?”
“It means—”
“I know what it means. I might be a football player, but I’m not a dumb jock.”
“I don’t think you’re dumb, Tyler, but you’re obviously stupid about this. You wouldn’t give this same advice to a guy. And you know why? Because guys are studs if they lose their virginity to a hot stranger at a party. Just look at all the movies about that very thing. Superbad. Risky Business. American Pie. I could go on and on. And nobody ever says, ‘Oh dear, that nice young man really should have waited to make sure his first time was with someone who’d buy him a freaking cheeseburger beforehand!’”
Tyler makes a face like he’s utterly annoyed.
I pull a rolling chair out from a small desk in the corner, kick off my heels, and plop myself down. “Look, Mr. God’s Gift, here’s the thing. I didn’t come to this party dressed like this to get lectured by some football player in a douchey shirt about the sanctity of my virginity or to debate society’s double standards about male and female sexuality. I came out tonight to find a guy exactly like you to have sex with and, in the process, hopefully get to have my first orgasm. It’s as simple as that.”
“A guy like me?”
I motion to his shirt. “A guy who’s clearly not boyfriend material.”
“Why am I not boyfriend material?”
“Are you joking? Tyler, you said so yourself!”
He moves to the foot of his bed and sits. “No, what I said was I’m not looking for a relationship. That doesn’t mean I don’t consider myself boyfriend material. What I said reflects my relationship status by choice. What you said is an assault on my very character.”
“Oh, come on, Tyler. You can’t wear a shirt like that and then g
et offended when I say you’re not boyfriend material.”
He still looks offended. “I’d make an amazing boyfriend if I wanted to be one. Which I don’t at the present time. But if I did, I’d be amazing and any girl would be lucky to have me. I’m loyal. Faithful. Thoughtful. Funny. Great in bed. Not sure what makes a guy ‘boyfriend material’ if not all that.”
“Um, gee, the desire to have a girlfriend?”
He scoffs.
“Surely, other guys on the team have girlfriends,” I say.
“Other guys on the team aren’t me. They haven’t devoted the past nine years of their lives to going top ten in the draft. They aren’t entering the draft at the end of their junior year because they’re already one of the hottest commodities in the country.” He clenches his jaw. “They’re not so close to the Promised Land they can taste it.”
Tyler’s intensity silences me for a long moment. My heart is thudding in my ears. Damn, he’s a sexy dude. Finally, I venture, “Dimitri said the quarterback had a girlfriend until recently. Is he not trying to go top ten in the draft?”
Tyler shakes his head. “Jake’s not entering the draft until next year,” he says. “And when he does, he’ll be lucky if he goes in the second round. He’s perfect for our offensive scheme, but he’s a system quarterback, not a true pro prospect. But, regardless, Jake’s just a different species of human than me. Actually, I’m not even sure Jake’s human. He’s got ice in his veins, that guy, both on and off the field. Nothing affects him.”
“And you?”
“I’m the anti-Jake. Everything affects me. I’m passionate. If I had a girlfriend, I’d worry about her. If someone were to act like an asshole to her, I’d be ready to rip the guy’s head off. If my girlfriend and I had a fight before a game, then I’d play like shit that day. And I can’t risk any of that.”
I stare at him for a moment, my crotch suddenly tingling. Is it weird everything he just said turned me on? “Okay, Tyler, fine. I’m willing to concede you’d be boyfriend material if that’s what you wanted to be.”