False Assumptions (Players of Marycliff University Book 6)

by Jerica MacMillan

This. This would be her undoing. She never would’ve expected tenderness from Evan Coopman.

  She ran her tongue over his lower lip, feeling its plump fullness. But that seemed to unleash something inside him. His hands gripped her, one on the back of her neck, the other on her hip, capturing her and holding her in place. He took over the kiss, fierce with need, all tongue and lips and teeth. His chest pushed against hers, laying her back on the bed. Then his hands settled on her breasts, kneading them roughly before running down her torso to her waist, yanking the button open with one hand and working the zipper down. Before she could do or say anything, he’d stood up and, with his fingers hooked into the waist of both her jeans and panties, yanked everything down and off.

  He stood over her, his eyes taking everything in, and she fought the urge to cover herself with her hands. It wasn’t that she’d never been naked with someone before. But none of those guys had really studied her like Evan was doing. It made her feel seen. Exposed. And she wasn’t used to that feeling.

  Starting at her ankles, he ran his hands up her legs, light enough that his callouses almost tickled, making her shiver at the sensation. When he stretched himself over her again, his jeans scraped along her legs. He lowered his head to kiss her, but she turned at the last second. “If I’m naked, you have to be too.”

  He pulled back and grinned at her, going up on his knees to undo his belt and pants, shoving his jeans and boxer briefs down as quickly as he had hers, his erection popping out like a jack-in-the-box.

  Before he kicked everything off, he retrieved his wallet from a pocket and got out a little square packet. Rolling on the condom, he laid himself over her again, his hands bracketing her head, his cock resting hot and hard on her hip. But he didn’t make any move to do anything but kiss her, his hard chest pressing into her breasts, his hands tangled in her hair holding her head in place. His tongue made slow strokes against hers and his teeth nipped at her lower lip, stoking the heat he’d ignited with his first kiss.

  Her hands roamed over his shoulders, down his arms, along his sides, up the muscles of his back. She tried to pull him against her more, but he held himself steady. Lifting her hips, she rubbed against him, moving her legs wider, trying to encourage him where she wanted.

  He pulled back and gazed down at her, his eyes liquid with desire. “Ready?”

  At her nod, his knees moved, spreading her legs further, his cock finding her entrance, sinking in just enough so she felt the stretch. Pulling back, he sank in again, a little more this time, repeating the action until his hips rested against hers, all of him inside her. He held still, kissing her again, not moving until she pressed her hips up again, growing restless at his constant delays. She wanted to feel him moving inside her. Now.

  Her legs slid along his thighs as she planted her feet on the bed, lifting up to get some friction. His hips answered, sliding back and then pressing forward again. Slowly. So agonizingly slowly.

  “Evan, please.”

  “What do you want, Layla?”

  Their mouths were still almost touching, their breath mingling when they spoke, but he’d pulled back far enough that she could see his face without going cross-eyed. She moved her hips against him again, trying to urge him to go faster. “I want you to move.”

  He repeated his earlier slow slide and thrust. “Like that?”

  “No. Faster. Harder.”

  Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t know how long I’ll last like that. You feel so good, and I’m making myself go slow to last longer.” He thrust harder once, as though to prove a point.

  She shook her head. “I don’t care. I don’t—you’re driving me crazy. I want to feel you move inside me. Not just tease me like this.”

  He gave her a wicked grin. “I think I like driving you a little crazy. Especially if it means you’re begging me to fuck you.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a gasp, because he started fucking her. And he didn’t hold anything back. He kept the pace slow at first, each stroke hard and punishing. She kept up with him, moving her hips up to meet his. But soon he moved faster and faster, and all she could do was take it, her legs wrapped around his waist, holding on while he pounded into her. At one point he slipped a hand between them, his thumb grinding into her clit, sending her closer to the edge.

  His mouth a firm line, his hips started losing their rhythm. “Christ, Layla. I can’t—I’m gonna come. You’re so fucking tight. I’m gonna—“ He slammed into her, his body shuddering as he came.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Layla’s soft breasts pressed into his chest, and Evan pulled himself off her, mindful of the fact that he might’ve crushed her when he collapsed on top of her after he came.

  And shit. She hadn’t made it there with him. He’d tried, but he’d rushed through the foreplay, and she hadn’t been close enough beforehand to come with him. He’d have to make that up to her.

  Pulling back, he slid out of her, his fingers gripping the condom. He leaned down and kissed her. “Sorry.”

  “What for?”

  He straightened, moving to the bathroom to deal with the condom. “That you didn’t finish. Gimme a sec, and I’ll take care of you.” He wanted to see her come. To be the one to make her come. It was something he enjoyed, and he prided himself on the fact that he had a ladies first policy. And he especially wanted to see Layla come. So the fact that he’d finished before her grated on him. He’d have to make her come so hard she forgot her name.

  When he strode back into the bedroom, she was sitting on the bed, holding the sheets over her chest. She scrambled back a little at his approach. But he didn’t let that distract him from his mission. Tugging the sheets out of her hand, he sat next to her, kissing her again, and letting his hands roam over her, mapping her curves with his fingers.

  “What are you doing?”

  He looked up from where he was kissing down the side of her neck. “I told you. Making sure you finish.” If she was still talking, then he obviously wasn’t doing a good enough job. On Saturday he’d paid more attention to her breasts, so maybe he needed to start there. He returned his mouth to hers, bringing one hand up to cover her breast, his thumb running over and around her nipple, making it stiff and hard, begging to be sucked. So he did. While his other hand brought her other nipple to attention to receive the same treatment.

  Sitting up, he coaxed her back down onto the bed, pulling the sheet away so he could have full access to her body. He stayed at her breasts for a while, building her up, enjoying the feel of her fingernails raking against his scalp as she clutched his head, loving the breathless gasps and sighs as he got his fill of her breasts.

  When she was writhing and panting, he slid one hand down her torso to her thigh, caressing the soft skin on the inside of her leg, coaxing it to the side so he could slide his fingers through her wetness. And she was slick and soft and open for him, the sound she made when he reached her clit something he wanted to hear every day. Her hips pressed into his hand as his tongue flicked over the nipple in his mouth again and again. He got into the same rhythm he’d started the other night—dipping a finger inside her, pulling it up and circling around her clit a few times before repeating the process. Again and again as her hips bucked under his hand. He wanted to taste her, but she seemed to be enjoying his mouth on her breasts so much that he wouldn’t disrupt what he’d started, not when she was getting so close.

  He sunk a finger inside her all the way, curling up to hit her G-spot, and letting his thumb take over the circles on her clit while he switched to her other nipple. Her fingernails dug into his head, and he worked his hand harder, sensing that she was right there. Her hips pressed up, a fine tremor running through her body, every muscle rigid, and he sucked hard, his thumb pressing down as his finger curled up. Clamping her thighs together, she trapped his hand and shook with her orgasm, a gasp that sounded almost surprised coming from her mouth. He kept his hand working, but pulled his he
ad up to look at her face, wanting to see how beautiful she looked in the throes of ecstasy—her red lips open, her eyes closed and head thrown back, black hair spread out in stark contrast against the white pillow.

  So gorgeous.

  And all for him.

  He slowed the movement of his fingers but kept them working, her body shuddering with each stroke, only stopping when her legs fell open and she pushed his hand away. Once he withdrew his fingers, she covered her face with her hands and lay there silent and still. Lying down next to her, he pulled her in close to him, caressing her side and over her belly as he waited for her to speak.

  The minutes stretched out, and still she kept her hands on her face. Evan hadn’t been concerned at first—everyone had different reactions to having an orgasm, especially for the first time with a new person—but started to wonder what was going on the longer she hid behind her hands.

  “Layla?”

  “Hmm?” Her voice was muffled, but at least she wasn’t ignoring him.

  “Why are you hiding from me?”

  Her hands fell away from her face, one arm above her head, and the other down at her side, but she kept her eyes closed. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  Propping himself up with his hand under his head, he stared down at her face. “Open your eyes,” he whispered back.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

  He kissed her softly. “Please.”

  That was the magic word. Her eyelids lifted, and she blinked up at him, her eyes still dark and languid.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She studied his face, her lips parted like she wanted to say something but was having trouble formulating the words. Finally, she shook her head. “Nothing. That was … amazing. I wasn’t expecting all of that, though.”

  His brows drew together. “All of what?”

  But she clamped her lips shut and shook her head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  Her eyelids fell closed again, shutting him out. But she answered his question. “The … care and tenderness. I just didn’t—no one’s ever—I mean, you took me by surprise is all. Not in a bad way, just … you’re not who I thought you were.”

  He wanted to push her more about this, annoyed that she was still throwing her assumptions about him in his face. Was she ever going to let that go? But she sat up and kissed him, her hand on his cheek, her hair falling around him, and that distracted him enough that by the time she pulled back from their kiss with a sly smile on her face, he didn’t want to fight with her. Not right now.

  She slid away from him, moving to the end of the bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  She cast a glance at him over her shoulder, and her skin glowed in the late afternoon sunlight filtering through her curtains. “Getting some clothes.” Laughing at the disapproving noise he made, she pulled a shirt over her head. “I’m hungry. It might be sunny today, but it’s not warm enough to go outside naked, to say nothing of public indecency laws.”

  With a grunt of agreement, he sat up and stretched, enjoying the way her eyes roamed over his torso as he did so. When he stood she glanced lower, and he smirked at the way she ogled him, then jerked her head away as though she realized what she was doing. He suppressed the urge to laugh, not wanting to embarrass her.

  He pulled his boxers and jeans back on, accepting his shirt from Layla after she retrieved it from her living room. “Thank you.” When she made to walk away, he caught her by the wrist and pulled her in for another kiss.

  With her hands on his chest—which was something he’d like to feel a lot more—she pushed him back, one corner of her mouth turned up. “We’ll never get food if you keep that up.”

  “Oh, really? A kiss is all it takes to distract you?”

  “With you? Yeah. Sometimes not even that much.”

  He grinned in response, but she just shook her head. “Put your shirt on. I really am hungry.”

  Chuckling, he did as she asked, meeting her in the living room a few minutes later to decide where to get dinner.

  Evan drove them to a little café not far from her apartment. It was a cute little place that served killer grilled sandwiches and wasn’t too expensive, not that Evan would let her pay. Layla felt like she should insist on paying for her own food, at least sometimes, but she knew she couldn’t afford to eat out as often as she did with him. The couple of times she’d tried to pay for her own food, he’d scowled at her. And that was before they’d kissed, much less had sex. Now? He might go full-out caveman on her if she tried to pay for dinner.

  She was still reeling from their afternoon together. It had been good—no, fantastic. Not that she was surprised by that. She’d heard girls talk about him, and she’d expected him to be good in bed. Just not for him to care so much.

  The level of intimacy with him, the tenderness, the way he’d looked at her. That had all been beyond her expectations of the playboy football player. Even though she’d gotten to know him and they’d become friends, she still figured he went through women like she went through books—quickly, always looking for the next good one.

  Well, at least he hadn’t been ready to bail as soon as he finished. And their dinner was as comfortable as ever, so even if he decided to move on now that they’d had sex, at least they could be in the same room without being awkward.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there.”

  Layla looked up from her sandwich. “Am I? Sorry. Just thinking.”

  “Anything important?”

  She shook her head. “Not really.” Nothing she’d tell him, anyway.

  Taking a bite of his sandwich, he regarded her in silence while he chewed and reached for his drink. “Any more midterms this week?”

  “One test tomorrow and a set of poems due in my poetry class.”

  He nodded. “Do you need to do a lot of studying tonight?”

  With her head cocked to one side, she thought over what all she needed to cover tonight, then shook her head. “Not really. I need to skim over my notes, but we’ve covered the material pretty thoroughly in class. I’m not worried. What about you?”

  “Nope. Today’s presentation was my biggest thing. I have a paper due in one class on Friday, but it’s not that big of a deal. Two of my classes had tests last week, and the only test this week was yesterday.”

  “Nice.”

  He nodded, taking another drink of his soda. “You doing anything fun next week for spring break?”

  “Just staying here.” She shrugged a shoulder and bit into her sandwich, hoping he wouldn’t push why she wasn’t going anywhere. She’d planned on going home to visit her parents, but with her ankle putting her out of commission the last few weeks, she hadn’t gotten any hours in the library, so she didn’t have the money for gas that she normally would’ve.

  His eyes widened. “How come? Don’t you want to get out of town?”

  She glanced away, looking at the other customers standing in line and chatting quietly at their tables. “It’s not so bad staying here. Most of my neighbors are students, so it’s quieter when they’re all gone for breaks, and I get to sleep in and do whatever I want.” Letting her gaze find him again, she gave a small smile. “What about you? Going somewhere fun?”

  His blue eyes pierced her, and she squirmed in her seat as he studied her, looking away, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. Finally, he shook his head. “Not really.” He paused, as though considering his next words. Then his jaw firmed, a sense of determination coming over him. “We should hang out. We’re both in town, and we don’t have class. We can spend all week together. On Friday after class, we’ll go to your place and pack you a bag. You can come stay with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “Yeah. Think about it.” His voice changed from determined to excited. “Carter’s going to be with his girlfriend all break. They’re going to see her parents for a few days before going to Portland for her to meet his mom. M
y apartment’s bigger than yours, and I have a TV, so we can watch movies on a bigger screen. It’ll be fun.”

  She drew in a breath, taking in his hopeful expression, and the way his hand reached across the table, linking his fingers with hers.

  His eyes grew darker. “C’mon, Layla. Say yes. I want you all to myself for a week. In my bed, on my couch, in my shower. No one else but you and me, and we only have to leave if we want to go out. You know I’ll be trying to get you to come over every day anyway. It’ll be easier if you plan for it.”

  Layla kept her eyes on their joined hands, his seductive voice doing a good job of convincing her that he had a really good point. Didn’t he, though? If they were both in town with no obligations, he would be at her apartment every day unless she told him to stay away. And he wanted her in his bed and everywhere else? How could she say no to that?

  With another deep breath she met his eyes. “Okay.”

  His fingers squeezed hers. “Really?”

  She chuckled. “Should I change my mind?”

  “No! No. I didn’t expect you to give in that easily.”

  She shrugged. “You’re very convincing when you want to be.”

  His smirk said everything. “Good. Now I really can’t wait until Friday.”

  Withdrawing her hand, she continued eating, shifting in her seat. If today was anything to judge by, she’d probably be sore by the end of next week. But she had a feeling it’d be worth it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Layla gathered her courage before knocking on the door of the one-story brick house. She’d parked on the street, cars already filling the cracked driveway. Laughter carried through the door, and she jumped when it opened suddenly, Elena smiling at her through the screen.

  Elena pushed it open. “Come in, come in! Everyone else is here already, and Megan’s making margaritas. You’re just in time.”

  Pasting a smile on her face, Layla stepped through the door, noticing that Abby, the girl from the Spanish department who had helped her and Evan with their project, sat on the couch. Another blonde girl sat next to her. They both offered her friendly smiles and stood.