The professor finally entered the room and broke my trance. He began introducing himself to the class and going over what would be expected of us this semester. He started with reciting the syllabus and touching on the usual first day of class type stuff. Afterwards, he began the first lesson, and left us with our first assignment. The assignment would be due upon returning to the next session. I paid as much attention as I could during class, but I also found myself drooling ever so slightly over Brad’s presence. Again, he was a distraction – a distraction that was affecting even me! It was about 82 degrees out, and he was wearing a tank top that accentuated his thick arms and broad shoulders. A tough looking guy who could easily have considered modeling as a career choice. But, I’d assumed that his future plans would be all about professional football.
After my English class, I headed to the library to get a bit of studying done before my next class, which would be in two hours. Sitting down at a table, I spread out my stuff, neatly arranging it on the table and making sure my workspace was organized.
I was surprised when I looked up and saw Brad strolling into the library. He saw me, and we made eye contact just for a moment. I broke contact, looking down at my work, not wanting to draw attention to myself. But Brad took the bait and sat down next to me at the table.
“Mr. Fuller’s a bit of a tightass, ain’t he?” Brad commented casually.
“I guess so. I mean, if you stay on top of the material, he’s not so bad,” I said slightly aggressively. I was annoyed with his intrusion on my studies. I was feeling a little defensive; I felt like he was invading my workspace to complain about our professor. I like Professor Fuller and it always irks me when people complain about school. (If they hate it so much, why are they paying thousands of dollars to be taking classes?).
“Yeah, that’s true,” Brad said, “Have you had him before?”
“I took History of English Literature with him a few semesters ago,” I said.
“Oh yeah? I had that class with Professor Hart,” he said.
“Oh,” I said, raising my brow, “Hart really is a hard-ass.” I smirked. It somehow made me feel satisfied to know that he’d had a difficult teacher and I asked, “How did you do in the class?”
“I got an A-,” he said cooly. I was actually impressed. I had gotten a B+ in the class that I took with him; grades below an A were a rarity in my transcript.
“That’s not bad,” I said, trying to hide my shock at his academic achievement. But I also wondered how many other classes he’d taken in which he had done so well. Most of the students on the football team would get some free passes because of their role on the team.
“Yeah, I was shooting for an A, but he gave me a C on one of my essays. I still think it was unjustified, but what are you gonna do, right?” he said, while obviously only pretending to read something.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. He grades his essays harshly,” I said, smiling. I was beginning to warm up to him a little.
“Hey,” he said, “Do you want a coffee? I was just about to go to the library café and get something.”
“Sure. Could you get me a latte? I think I have a couple of dollars,” I said, turning to reach for my wallet.
“Don’t worry about it – it’s on me,” he said, smoothly getting up.
“Thanks,” I said, surprised by his generosity. I thought that was really sweet of him. I continued studying a bit while he was gone. When he came back, he sat back down and handed me the latte.
“Thanks,” I repeated.
“Hey, it’s not a problem. If you don’t think Fuller’s tough, you deserve it,” he said, laughing. His smile was nice and genuine; I liked the way the corners of his mouth were dimpled. He started reaching into his backpack.
“Do you mind if I study with you?” he asked politely.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, “Are you going to work on the assignment that Fuller gave?”
“Naw, I’m actually going to go over the syllabus for my next class and read the intro of the text book,” he said. I was impressed; I wouldn’t have expected him to be the kind of student that comes to the first class of the semester prepared.
“Cool,” I said, returning to my studying as he began his. We sat there in the library, studying next to each other. I tried to stay focused on my work instead of drooling over the hot specimen of a man sitting next to me. My heart was fluttering a little, but I still got a decent amount of work done in the amount of time I was there.
“Oh, I have to get going,” he said as he glanced at his watch.
“Oh, shit, me too,” I said. We walked together since our classes were in the same direction. When we got to my class, I was about to say good-bye, but he surprised me with a question.
“Hey, there’s this party on Friday at my house,” he said, “Do you want to come? It’s mostly going to be jocks and stuff, but I’d like it if you came. You seem really cool and it would be nice to talk to someone who’s actually intelligent for a change.” He laughed a little bit at the last part. I smiled, trying not to blush.
“Sure,” I said shyly, not wanting to appear too excited. I had to admit I was a bit nervous, but I didn’t hate him as much as I had expected.
“Cool, I’ll give you the address and stuff next class, okay?”
“Yeah, no problem,” I said, “See you later.”
“Later,” he said, waving as we both turned our backs to each other to go to our respective classes. As I sat down in my desk, I couldn’t help but smile to myself.
Chapter 2
At our next class, Brad Pearson sat down right next to me. We chatted pleasantly for a bit before class started and again after class was over. Then we walked to the library together. I was really enjoying his company, but I wasn’t sure how I even felt about it. After we spent some time in the library quietly studying together, he walked me to class again.
“Oh, I forgot to write down the address for the party,” he said, reaching in his backpack for a piece of paper. He found a sticky note and wrote some things down on it and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I said without looking.
“You think you’ll come?” he asked.
“Yeah, why not? I don’t have anything else going on Friday,” I said, shrugging casually while turning back and smiling at him.
“Cool,” he said grinning widely, “I’ll see you there, then.”
“Yeah,” I said, “See you then.”
I entered the classroom, sat down, and looked at the note. In addition to his address, he also wrote down his phone number. I couldn’t help but swoon a little. Brad Pearson had given me his phone number!
When I got out of my class, I started the walk home. I didn’t live too far from campus, but it was starting to drizzle a bit. This morning was sunny, so I hadn’t expected rain, otherwise I would have brought a raincoat to class with me. It was that time of year when it’s beginning to get warm out. The sun will shine, but then it rains unexpectedly, helping the flowers to bloom.
I was walking through the parking lot on campus when I saw a red convertible driving toward me. I wasn’t too surprised to see Brad leaning his head out of the window. It seemed pretty typical that he would have a bright red sports car; I had heard rumors that his family was pretty well off.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked.
“Home,” I said without missing a stride.
“Do you need a ride?” he asked gesturing toward the cloud-covered grey sky. If it hadn’t been raining, I would have politely declined, but considering the circumstances…
“Yeah, that would be great,” I said, opening the door. It was just starting to rain harder and I didn’t want to get soaked. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I wouldn’t wanna walk home in the rain either.”
“Thanks,” I said with a tiny giggle. He drove, while I gave him directions to my house. We started talking about some of the things we had gone over in class and I was impressed wit
h how seriously he was taking the material. He was genuinely interested in it, and I actually felt like we might have something in common. This “arrogant jock” was tugging on my heart.
When he pulled up to my house, I hesitated. I wanted to keep the conversation going.
“Do you want to come in for a cup of tea or something?” I asked, not even sure why I did it. It felt so cliché coming out of my mouth.
“That sounds nice,” he said smiling. We entered the house and Brad slipped his jacket off, revealing the strong muscles that I was so prone to drool over. He truly was a work of art.
“I’ll put the kettle on,” I said, heading to the kitchen. I lived in a small one-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t much, but I thought it was pretty charming. Brad sunk way down onto the couch, legs splayed out and looking comfortable.
“So, what other classes are you taking?” Brad boomed from his position on the couch.
“Psychology of Prejudice… a Stats class… and my senior seminar,” I said, walking back into the room.
“Ahh, so, you’re a senior… and a psych major?” he asked.
“Yep. What classes are you taking?” I asked.
“A couple of history classes, a child development class for my teaching certificate, and my senior seminar, too,” he said.
“You want to be,” (hesitating almost imperceptibly), “a teacher?” I asked, somewhat impressed. I hadn’t quite expected that from him. I would have thought he would be a business major or kinesiology or something like that.
“Yeah. I love kids, and I love learning, so it seems like a good fit. My dad wanted me to do a business major or go to law school, but it just didn’t feel like the right fit to me,” he said.
“That’s cool!” I said. The kettle started screaming at that moment, and I ran over to turn off the stove.
“What kind of tea do you like?” I shouted from the kitchen.
“What do you have?” he asked.
“Um, like a lot. You should come in here and look,” I said.
When he entered my cramped kitchen, I became aware of how close together we were; I could feel butterflies in my stomach, as I smelled his sweet scent. He smelled like musk and that kind of sweat that smells good when you’re attracted to the person. I could feel the pheromones as I inhaled his sweet man scent.
He was going through my tea drawer, picking up boxes, turning them over. I watched him as he did this, looking at his strong forearms and how thick the veins were. I liked his large boney hands; I had never quite noticed them before now.
“This looks good,” he said, holding up an Earl Grey tea.
“That’s my favorite,” I said smiling. Our bodies were close as he handed me the box. My heart skipped a beat as my fingers brushed against his.
We sat back down on the couch, hovering over our steaming tea and chatting idly about school, which segued to talking about life in general. The hours passed by like minutes. We were both enjoying ourselves quite a bit as we discovered that we had a lot in common.
If I hadn’t been before now, I was really beginning to warm up to him. As time went on, we naturally began sliding closer and closer to each other on the couch. Soon we exchanged our teacups for wine glasses as the night continued.
I felt confused and conflicted. On one hand, I really wasn’t sure what I was doing with the captain of the football team; he was arrogant and wealthy, and it just felt like we were from different worlds. On the other hand, I couldn’t ignore how attracted I was to him, especially when the red wine started to take its effect on me. Were we so different after all?
I could sense that Brad was attracted to me, too, or at least I suspected it, but I wasn’t sure if I was just projecting. But he must have been inching closer to me for a reason...
We were talking about Picasso of all things, when I began to become passionate about the conversation. I was leaning towards him, talking loudly and quickly about Picasso’s artwork. Brad was just smiling, enjoying my passion for the subject. As a history major, he was also enthusiastic about art and its history.
“What?” I said suddenly when I noticed him smiling strangely at me.
“What what?” Brad replied.
“I don’t know, you’re just like… smiling at me weird,” I said, the wine loosening my boundaries.
“Oh, I just think it’s really cool how passionate you are about art,” he said. I blushed as my heart beat faster. It was that word- “passionate.”
“Oh,” I said. I reflexively looked down because I was embarrassed, but Brad touched my chin, lifting my gaze back to meet his.
“It’s good,” he said, comforting me. I just smiled, while trying not to.
“Thanks,” I said, giggling softly.
“You’re not like other girls I’ve met…” Brad said, trailing off. This just made me blush; I could feel how my face must have been flushed and pink in the cheeks. I wasn’t sure how to reply, but I didn’t have to. Brad leaned in close to my face. My heart was beating fast. This is… wow, I thought to myself as I tilted my head to the side.
Our wine tinted lips met gently for a soft moment. We both pulled away and looked at each other giggling a little.
“Wow,” I said, “I wasn’t… really expecting that.”
“Neither was I, but I like you…” said Brad.
Chapter 3
I was flattered when he told me that he liked me. But I was unsure of what to make of it. But then, I thought about how my goal for this semester was to enjoy college and have fun. Fuck it, if there’s a time to be irresponsible, it’s now, I said to myself.
I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him towards me to kiss him passionately. At that moment, I let go of all my inhibitions, allowing the hedonistic pleasure of his touch to take me over.
He was surprised by my passion and aggressiveness, but accepted it nonetheless. He grabbed me by the waist, feeling the softness of my t-shirt and the way that my waist curved into my hips.
He embraced me tightly, kissing me hard. I returned his kiss with just as much passion. I moved my hands down to touch his chest which felt incredibly hard and muscular, down to his abs, and around his waist. Putting my hand up his shirt, I felt his soft skin and hard body. As I touched his skin, I could feel him sinking into my embrace.
I was feeling spicy and ambitious; I pushed him back and swung my leg around so that I was straddling him with his back firmly against the back of the couch. As I did so, we continued to kiss passionately. Brad moved his hand along my waist and up to my breasts. I could feel him playing with my already hard nipples through the thin padding of my bra, and it turned me on. I put my hand on his, pushing it harder against my breast as if communicating an unmistakable tactile yes.
I could already feel his cock growing harder. It was pressing against my thigh as I straddled him, and I began rocking my hips back and forth to stimulate him.
Cleverly, Brad adjusted his cock with his hand so that it wasn’t pressing my thigh, but rather my genitalia so that he was stimulating me as well. I jolted ever so slightly at the sudden pressure on my slit, but sank into it. I knew that he wanted me as he was just getting harder by the second. I was so attracted to him and I wanted him inside of me so badly.
Suddenly, I pulled back from our intense make-out session to pull my shirt over my head before leaning back in to vigorously kiss him with as much passion as before. He could see my breasts pushed together in my green bra and I could tell that he couldn’t get enough of them. He was touching them, squeezing them and playing with my nipples through my bra. It felt so good that I was already moaning loudly as we kissed.
He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him, before unhooking my bra from behind my back. I let it fall off of me, reveling in the cool of the air on my erect nipples and the prospect of his touch on them. Just as I expected, he reached for my nipples, pinching them lightly between his thumb and forefinger, sending the nerves in my nipples reeling. I loved it an
d was so turned on by it. I took him by his hair and pushed his head down, straightening up my back so that his face was buried in my tits.
He smiled at them, at me, and began burying his face in them, licking them, sucking them, and most off all, enjoying them. He put his hands firmly on my hips, pulling them in to him. I started back up with grinding my hips against his, sending tingling sensations throughout both of our genitals.
“The bedroom is over there,” I said seductively. He smiled, which I took as an affirmative, and led him to the bedroom. We stood, kissing passionately for a moment with our bodies close, touching as much as we could.
Boldly, I took a step back, and looking him in the eye, bent down to take my pants off. I was standing there, just in my bra and panties. They were mismatched, (but later Brad told me that he thought it was cute). Brad returned the favor and took his shirt and pants off, revealing his firm, well-defined body.
We stood in front of each other almost naked, looking at each other’s bodies. It was an intimate moment, the kind of intimacy that I had never experienced with a man before.
We stepped toward each other and gently embraced. We kissed softly for a moment, before Brad took me by the waist and laid me down on the bed. My heart was beating fast with anticipation. Brad crawled on top of me, brushing his hands lightly over my body, feeling each and every curve and detail that my body had to hold.
We kissed, intimately and passionately, running our hands along each other’s bodies. Brad reached down in between my legs, reaching in to my panties. He felt my pubic hairs; they were trimmed but still long enough to curl, and they were soft. He reached down in between my labia to feel my clitoris. I could feel him running his fingers down along the lips of my pussy, gently dipping his finger in between my inner labia for some moisture before bringing them back up to my clit so that he could ever so gently rub it in circles and listen to my moans. The skin around my clitoris was soft, but my clit was firm from the pleasure that he was giving me.
Romance: SPORTS ROMANCE: The First Half (Bad Boy Alpha Male College Football Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Pregnancy Romance) Page 10