Campus Player

by Jennifer Sucevic

  Yum!

  In silence, we arrange our breakfast on our plates. A burst of nerves explodes in my belly, and my gaze skitters across the backyard. Rowan’s confession last night has changed everything. Nerves hum beneath my skin as I focus on slathering cream cheese onto my bagel.

  When he clears his throat, I nearly jump out of my chair.

  “What are your plans for the day?”

  “Umm...” My brain blanks. Plans? Oh...right. “I have a couple of assignments to finish up,” I glance at him, “otherwise chill out.”

  There’s a brief pause before he asks, “Mind if I hang with you?”

  A thrill shoots through me, and it takes effort to tamp down my excitement at the notion of spending more time together. “Not at all.”

  The edges of his lips curl before he reaches out and snags my fingers, pulling me to my feet and onto his lap. His arms wrap around me, anchoring me securely in place. Barely am I able to find my bearings before his mouth slants over mine. My brain clicks off as my arms wind around his neck. Much like last night, it’s a slow exploration of lips, teeth, and tongues. Most of the guys I’ve been with are in a hurry to reach the finish line, which is apparently in my pants. This couldn’t be more different. As his wide palms stroke over my back, his fingers leave an explosion of delicate shivers in their wake. When I whimper, he swallows down the sound as if starving for it.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he growls, the low vibration rumbling in his chest.

  Before I realize what’s happening, Rowan rises to his feet. His arms are locked around me, securing me in place as he turns and sets me down on the chair he had been occupying. I blink as his fingers go to the hem of his Navy T-shirt, yanking it up his body and over his head before tossing it to the concrete.

  Holy cow...

  From a distance, I’ve seen Rowan without a shirt dozens of times. Just last night, I caught a glimpse of his chest, but this is different. It’s broad daylight. Up close and personal. With the bright light beaming down on him, he looks very much like a Greek god. Which is corny as hell but nonetheless true.

  We’re talking sun-kissed flesh and ripped muscles.

  At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m drooling.

  When my eyes finally meander to his, a knowing light fills them. “Like what you see?”

  It takes everything I have inside to swallow past the thick lump that has settled in the middle of my throat. “What’s not to like?”

  No, I’m serious.

  What’s not to like?

  The man is utterly gorgeous. He should be advertising expensive underwear on a billboard somewhere. This is exactly why girls come out of the woodwork and offer up phony stories about him.

  His fingers drop to the button of his jeans, where they hesitate long enough to send my heart pounding into overdrive before a metal snap breaks the silence of the morning. Only then do I become aware of the air trapped in my lungs and have to make a conscious effort to force it out again.

  With a ridiculous amount of leisure, he lowers the metal teeth of his fly. Rowan Michaels is giving me my very own private strip-tease. Do you have any idea what most girls on campus would give to be in my position?

  We’re talking first-born sons.

  The denim material is shoved down muscular thighs before it puddles around his ankles, and he’s standing in nothing more than a pair of form-fitting black boxer-briefs.

  My mouth turns cottony as a knowing smirk curls around the edges of his lips.

  And you know what?

  I couldn’t give a crap.

  He deserves every ounce of ego where his body is concerned. It’s a thing of beauty. I get a few moments to eat him up with my eyes before he stalks toward me. Once he closes the distance, he places a hand on each armrest of the chair, effectively caging me in. His lips hover over mine, stroking back and forth. When he finally draws away, it feels as if I’m burning up inside. My panties have dampened. I don’t have to wait long for his next move. He slides his arms around my body and scoops me up. It’s an effortless movement. As if I weigh nothing at all. My legs tangle around his lean waist as my arms do the same with his neck. Awareness sizzles through me as my core is pressed against his tight abdominals. When he hoists me higher, the grinding motion nearly sends my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

  “Are you ready for this?” he asks, his voice barely penetrating the loud rush of the ocean that fills my ears.

  Oh, my God...

  Is he talking about sex?

  Instead of walking toward the sliding door and inside the house like I expect, he swings in the opposite direction.

  I don’t understand. Are we going to do it outside? It’s not like I’m opposed to the idea, but I thought—

  “Hang on,” he murmurs.

  Hang on?

  Too late do I realize his intent. With me secured tightly in his arms, Rowan jumps into the deep end of the pool. Not that it does any good, but a protest bursts from my lips as we hit the water.

  22

  Rowan

  Demi sputters as we surface from the crystal-clear liquid. Tiny waves lap at our bodies. Eyes wide with shock, she stares at me with a slack-jawed expression. My shoulders shake with silent laughter. Mentally, I prepare myself for the ass-chewing I’m about to receive.

  It takes a moment for the edges of her lips to tremble and laughter to bubble up from deep within her throat. Just when I think all is forgiven, she slaps her palm against the water, splashing me in the face.

  “I can’t believe you did that!” She untangles herself and sprays me again.

  That makes two of us. Things were just starting to heat up, and who knows what would have happened had I walked us into the house instead of the pool. Actually, I know exactly what would have transpired. I want this girl in the worst possible way. But I also want to take this slow.

  I shield my eyes with one hand before retaliating. Hey, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander, right? Or some shit like that.

  With a squeal, Demi swims away from me. As she puts more distance between us, she kicks a steady stream of water in my direction. In case you might have forgotten, her legs are muscular. She can easily keep this up for days. The grin on her face tells me that she knows it as well.

  “Now you’re in trouble,” I bellow, rising up from the water like the Loch Ness Monster, and leaping at her with outstretched arms.

  She yelps and tries to twist away. The operative word in that sentence being tries. I get my hands on her for a moment before her slippery flesh slides through my fingers, and she sprays water in my eyes. For the next fifteen minutes, we splash around and play. I’ve swum in Coach’s pool dozens of times. He usually invites the team over for a barbeque during the season, and Demi is always there to help out.

  Do I necessarily like the guys ogling her in a bikini?

  Hell, no.

  Is there anything I could do about it?

  Other than crack the back of a few skulls when they stared a little too long, nope—not a damn thing. It was both heaven and hell.

  When our breathing turns labored, I finally say, “All right, I give. You win.”

  Demi snickers. She’s an endless bound of energy. It’s one of her strengths on the soccer field. Even in the final minutes of the game, she’s still going strong, running circles around the other team. It’s all the extra conditioning she puts in. I’ve never met anyone more single-minded and dedicated to the sport they play. And that, my friends, is sexy as hell.

  She tilts her head and beams. “You sure about that?”

  “Yup.”

  When she rises from the water, the tank top gets plastered to her lean upper body, molding to her breasts like a second skin. Her nipples tighten into hard little buds that poke through the thin fabric. The dusky color is clear as day through the pale pink material.

  My mouth dries as I stare. Pulling my gaze away is impossible. I’ve been rendered powerless. I’m totally at her mercy. Does this girl h
ave any idea how damn sexy she is? Or how much I want her?

  How much I’ve always wanted her?

  She can’t possibly know. I’ve spent so many years, holding all these feelings deep inside. It’s both scary and a relief to finally release them.

  Her body stills. Like a prey animal scenting a predator. She doesn’t move a single muscle. Instead, Demi stands under bright shafts of sunlight and allows me to look my fill.

  Time stretches and lengthens along with my nerves. With a deliberateness that leaves my heart stuttering, her fingers drop to the hem of her shirt before carefully dragging it up her body and over her head. With her gaze locked on mine, she tosses the sopping wet material to the edge of the pool. It lands against the concrete with a thunk.

  Holy.

  Shit.

  If I didn’t realize it before, I certainly do now. Demi Richards is utter perfection. Her breasts are high and tight with a slight roundness to them. The nipples are pink and tiny. All I want to do is wrap my lips around one and suck it into my mouth.

  Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed about doing exactly that?

  Since the day I met her when I was fourteen years old.

  As if in slow motion, Demi raises her arms before running her fingers through her long dark hair, sluicing the clear drops of water that run in rivulets down her naked skin. With her arms stretched high, her breasts stand at attention, and my cock stiffens painfully in my boxers.

  I’m so fucking turned on right now.

  “Don’t you want to touch me?” Her voice drops to a husky whisper that strums the need buried deep inside.

  Is she serious?

  I want nothing more than that. It takes effort to rein in the beast trying to break free beneath the surface of my skin. But I can’t allow that to happen. I can’t allow him to claw his way out and lose control. I won’t scare Demi with the desire bottled up inside me.

  With my need tightly harnessed, I close the distance that separates us. When I’m no more than a foot away, I reach out and wrap my fingers around one puckered bud before tweaking it gently with my fingertips.

  Her head falls back, exposing the narrow column of her throat as a guttural sounding moan slides from her mouth. Excitement rushes through my veins as my other hand rises, needing to play with the other perky little nipple. Pinching and tweaking, elongating each one. She arches her back as if offering herself up to me. I palm the soft weight of each breast, needing to learn the feel of her. My hands slide from her chest, around her ribcage, until I’m able to drag her close. Close enough to suck one delectable nipple into my mouth. The deeper I draw her in, the louder her moans become.

  With a soft pop, I release her. My tongue dances around the areola before lapping at the hard little tip. Demi squirms in my arms as her hands drift along my biceps, over my shoulders, before tunneling through my hair and dragging me to her.

  “Mmmm, that feels so good,” she murmurs.

  Damn right, it does.

  I could spend an endless amount of time adoring her sweet little titties with my mouth.

  Before I realize it, my leg is wedged between her thighs, and she’s riding me. Grinding her panty-covered pussy against me. If I’m not careful, I’ll go off like a shot. I need to get ahold of myself, and the only way I can do that is to put a little distance between us.

  Fuck!

  It’s the last thing I want right now.

  I lift my head and take in the sight. Demi looks so damn wanton in my arms with her chest bared under the bright sunlight. A dazed expression fills her eyes as her long wet hair clings to her shoulders and back. Her lips are parted so sweetly. She’s like a fucking goddess come to life. I couldn’t want her anymore than I already do.

  Several heartbeats pass before the sexual haze clouding her eyes clears. “Why did you stop?”

  Does she have any idea what that question does to me? How it forces my control to the breaking point? If I had my way, I’d take her like a fucking animal. I want to bury my cock so deep inside her that I have no idea where she begins, and I end. But I can’t do that.

  Demi means too much to me.

  She always has.

  My fingers tunnel through her hair until I’m able to cup the sides of her head. I wait until her gaze fastens onto mine, and I have her complete attention. “When I have you, it won’t be a quick fuck in some damn pool. It’ll be long and slow and perfect.”

  Her dark eyes turn smoky with need.

  “Yeah, it’s gonna be exactly like that.” It’s important that Demi understands what she’s getting herself into. It can’t be an impulsive decision that means nothing. An itch that needs to be scratched. “You have to know that once I have you, you’ll be mine, and I won’t let you go anytime soon.” I pause for a beat, allowing everything I’ve said to sink in. Carefully, I search her eyes. “Do you understand?”

  She jerks her head.

  The tightly coiled tension sitting in the pit of my gut gradually dissipates. “Good. I want to take my time with this. With you.”

  She releases a steady breath as her shoulders loosen. “Okay.”

  Now that we’re both on the same page, I drag her body closer until her breasts are pressed against my chest. It takes a moment for her muscles to relax. With a deliberateness that belies the harsh need running rampant through me, I trail my fingers up and down the length of her spine, and for the first time in my life, I realize what contentment feels like. It’s both strange and unexpected.

  Foreign in nature.

  There have only been a few times I’ve experienced it. The first was when Coach came into my life and took me under his wing. The second was when I realized that my dreams of playing in the NFL were more than a pipe dream like my old man had beat into my head. And the third was when my father pleaded guilty and was sent away. Hands down, that was the best fucking day of my life because it meant that Mom and I didn’t have to deal with him or his constant bullshit any longer. He wouldn’t be coming home drunk at two in the morning, knocking Mom around, and stealing her hard-earned cash. Other than booze, I have no idea what he spent her rent and food money on, but I have my suspicions.

  “Rowan?”

  It’s a relief when Demi’s husky voice pulls me out of those unpleasant thoughts.

  “Yeah?” My past is ugly and dark. I don’t want it to ever touch Demi. She’s everything that is light and happy. Maybe that’s why I’ve always been so attracted to her. She’s the opposite of everything I grew up with. She’s like the vibrant store window I had my face smashed against as a kid. Always looking in from the outside. Not quite good enough. Always dirty and hungry and left wanting.

  A groan slides from me when her teeth sink into her lower lip. I’m so fucking tempted to nip the plump flesh and suck the fullness into my mouth. With her topless in my arms, I want to rewind our conversation and tell her that I have no intention of taking this relationship at a leisurely pace. I want fast. I want to delve in headfirst and take it all. I’m like a kid in a candy store who intends to gorge himself on all the sweetness laid out before him.

  “Were you serious last night?” she whispers.

  Those thoughts buzz around in my brain, making it difficult to focus. “Hmmm?”

  When she remains silent, I force my gaze to hers and realize there’s a deep flush staining her cheeks.

  Some of the sexual haze clouding my better judgment evaporates. “Serious about what?”

  Her gaze darts away.

  “Don’t do that,” I growl. No longer will I allow her to hide from me or what’s unfolding between us.

  Her wide gaze snaps to mine before she blurts, “Were you serious when you said that you’ve liked me for years?”

  My hands tighten around the sides of her head. “Don’t you understand?” A second or two tick by. “Where you’re concerned, I’m as serious as a fucking heart attack.”

  She gulps. “And I’m the reason you’ve held off on sex?”

  I draw her closer, resting
my forehead against hers. “Since the moment you came into my life, you’ve been my reason for everything.” Not once do I break eye contact. “Does that freak you out?”

  She remains silent for a long stretch of time, and I panic. Fuck...I probably shouldn’t have dumped all that on her last night. It was too much, too soon. Unfortunately, there’s no way to back-peddle. For some stupid reason, I decided it was a good idea to be honest and totally strip myself bare.

  When she shakes her head, the tension filling my muscles evaporates.

  “The last thing I want to do is scare you,” I mutter, feeling self-conscious.

  “I’m not scared.” She presses her lips together before admitting, “I like that you waited because you wanted to be with me. It only makes me want you more.”

  Heat fills her eyes, and it is so damn sexy. A groan rumbles up from deep in my throat as my cock stiffens. All I want to do is sink deep inside her.

  “You have,” her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, “done stuff, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m not a total nube,” I mutter.

  “Like what?” Her eyes light with undisguised interest. “Tell me.”

  Heat floods my cheeks as I shrug, embarrassment swamping me, threatening to drag me under. This is a humiliating conversation to have with the one girl I’ve always fantasized about. I don’t want Demi to think I’m not man enough to please her because I haven’t screwed a ton of girls.

  Or, in my case, any.

  With my hands cupping the sides of her skull and our foreheads touching, she tilts her head until her mouth can slide over mine. As soon as her tongue brushes across the seam of my lips, I open until they can tangle. I’m about to lose myself in the caress when she pulls away.

  Her breath comes out in short sharp pants that drift across my lips. It’s almost drugging. “There’s no reason we can’t have an open conversation about this, right?”

  Ugh. The sexual haze surrounding me disintegrates.

  “Yeah, I guess.” Like I want her to realize just how inexperienced I am? I’ve already put that out there. Is there any reason to rub it in?