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Slammed

Page 5

by Teagan Kade


  “Just tell me what the fuck you want.”

  I hold the blade in place and get up right next to his ear. “I want you to stay the fuck away from Lucy Middleton, you hear me? If you so much as walk on the same footpath I’m going to slice this pathetic cock of yours clean off and jam it down your throat. Hell, I’ve done worse.”

  He nods, still blubbering. “Yes, fine, whatever you want. I won’t go near her.”

  “And on the court,” I continue, “we’re going to be best buddies, business as usual, and you know what else?”

  He’s too scared to reply.

  “I think I’m going to take Coach’s advice and become more of a team player, but so help me god, if I hear you’ve pulled your little bag of pills out again, that some poor girl has fallen foul of your tricks or ant dick, I won’t just take your manhood, I’ll take your fucking life.”

  He’s shaking as I draw the blade away and pocket it. I start to walk off.

  “You going to untie me?” comes the wavering voice at my back.

  “The women’s’ team meets here at six. I’m sure they’ll help you out.”

  I’m smiling as I leave the building. I mean, that was cruel, over the top perhaps, but I doubt he’ll be macking on anyone ever again. He certainly won’t be bothering Lucy—my Lucy.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LUCY

  I come downstairs and the house is buzzing. Almost every sister is awake and fluttering around in various pastel PJs. I find Amber poring over her cell, a couple of the other sisters looking on.

  I yawn. “What’s happening? If there was a memo about a communal breakfast, I didn’t get it.”

  Amber grins. “Oh, it’s much, much better than breakfast.” She holds her cell out. “Here, take a look.”

  It takes me a moment to work out what I’m looking at, but when I do I almost drop the phone. “Cheese and crackers, is that Charleston, the basketball captain?”

  Amber nods. She’s way too excited. “Sure is, tied up to a pole, naked, cock like a drinking straw.”

  I look closer. She ain’t wrong. “How did he…? Was it some kind of pledge prank, hazing?”

  Amber shrugs. “Could be. The women’s basketball team found him like that on the training courts this morning. Apparently, the poor guy looked like he’d been through hell, actually pleaded with them to keep it a secret. Like that was going to happen. I almost feel sorry for him.”

  I recall what happened at the party. “Don’t. He’s an assh-” I stop myself.

  Amber looks at me with her eyes all squinty. “Look at you go, potty mouth. What’s next? Drunk on the roof? Bonging it up by the bandstand?”

  “Real funny.”

  Amber squints a little closer, the other sisters clueing in. “What’s really going, Lucy? It’s a guy, isn’t it?”

  I blush, my weakness.

  Amber seizes on it, more of the sisters moving over. “It is a guy. Who? You have to tell us.”

  “I can’t.”

  Amber jumps up and down, her enthusiasm for my love life infectious. “I knew it! I knew it!” and all serious again, “but for real, who is it?”

  One of the other girls speaks up. “We’re all sisters here. In fact, as your house mother, I command you to tell us who it is.”

  I don’t know if I should say anything, but the peer pressure is too great. What would be the harm? I could actually use some advice and support in this matter. But you haven’t even kissed him, even given him any kind of indication you like him.

  “Nate,” I blurt out. “Nate Compton.”

  The room erupts. Amber draws me into a tight embrace. You’d think I’d just won the lottery. And that’s how it goes on all morning—Lucy Middleton, soon to be virgin leper no longer.

  *

  Compared to the craziness of the house earlier, being alone with Nate is like attending mass, the only sound in the room the ticking of the air-con above. But he seems distant, distracted today. Could word really have spread that fast?

  “You okay?” I offer, so close to him I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

  He stops tapping his pen against the table and smiles at me, his eyes every color of the ocean. There’s paradise there, I know it, but also something lurking deeper, something hiding in the dark. “Just happy to be here.”

  I close the textbook. “We don’t always have to study, you know.”

  He raises an eyebrow of suspicion. “What exactly are you proposing?”

  I realize my mistake and put my hands up. “Oh, no, no, no, I wasn’t-”

  “Pity,” he says, his eyes never leaving me.

  I blush harder, La Tomatina lighting up my cheeks. Change the freakin’ subject! “You grew up around here?”

  He looks at his arms. “Do I look like I grew up around here?”

  Good one, Lucy. “No, I guess not.”

  I’m surprised when he continues, reels out his life story. “My parents died when I was little. I grew up in the foster system, a long way away from here.”

  I can’t believe he’s speaking this like, so open. “That must have been tough.” I know the feeling.

  I’m itching to tell him everything, but I can’t let this moment slip. I have to let him continue.

  He does. “It was tough. My first foster parents were… challenging.” He pauses and I think he’s going to close up again, but he takes a breath and continues. “Eventually, I got out. They paired me up with this guy, a real hard-ass, but in a good way, you know? He put me right, got me into ball. He didn’t have much. We didn’t have much, but he made the most of it.”

  “Sounds like an impressive man.”

  “He was.”

  I don’t miss the tense.

  “Your dad, the Dean, what was he like growing up?”

  I’m a bit annoyed he’s deflected the conversation my way, but since he’s opening up, I have to do the same. “Well, you might be surprised to learn it, but I was in the foster system too.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I was young. I can’t recall a lot of it, but what I have I’ve tried to forget.”

  “You really don’t remember?”

  “Bits and pieces. It was a big home that always looked like it was about to fall down, like it was sitting on crutches, a terrible place. I remember I was a loner. There were lots of kids, real nasty, but this one, a boy, I can’t remember his name—Jacob? Jason?—he protected me.”

  “From who?”

  “From the father.” I’ve tried to suppress this for so long. My eyes start to grow wet and heavy, but I keep going. “He was an alcoholic. His benders… None of us wanted to be anywhere near him when he was like that. He always wanted me, called me his little lamb, but that boy, he’d just stand between us and take the beating. He’d curl up and let the old man lay into him.” I try to recall more, recall the boy’s face, but it’s just a blur, fragments of memories lost.

  I take a breath, wipe my eyes. “Anyhow, I was transferred into Dad’s care when I was five. I do remember that day. They never even told me he was coming. He just showed up and took me away. As far as I’m concerned, he is my father. I owe him everything.”

  Nate looks serious, taking it in. “And the boy, the one who helped you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You never tried to find him?”

  “Dad threw out all the records from that time, says it’s no use looking back, and he’s probably right. Maybe someone came along and saved him, the boy. He’s probably a Wall St banker, a judge or something now. At least, I hope so.”

  “And your dad, the Dean, he treated you well?”

  “Like his own.”

  “Which is why you’re helping me.”

  Honesty is the best policy. “At first, but it’s different now.”

  “How so?”

  “I know the real you, the real Nate Compton under that bravado and ink. You’re just a big marshmallow in there, aren’t you?”

  He laughs, glances down at hi
s crotch. “Not everywhere.”

  I look down briefly sure I can see a bulge in his pants. My core tightens at the thought, a pang of need running from my head to my pelvis, and I’m wet. Holy hell am I wet just being here so close to him. My heart hammers in my chest, my breathing shallow but quick. We’re watching each other with such intensity I’m sure at any moment the entire room is going to up and combust.

  Our heads start to come together and I’m lost in his eyes, the need too great and overwhelming. Just let it happen.

  It does.

  He takes me by surprise and pulls me to him, kisses me, his lips so hot they burn molten against my own. All I can do is kiss him back, our breath and desire caught as one, the library melting away around us.

  And it’s wrong, but it’s right, so different to how I thought it would be—so intense.

  He stands and I go with him, my hands running up his sides. My chair falls over, Nate turning us until my butt’s pressing hard against the edge of the table, his hands busying themselves unbuttoning my blouse, my bra popping upwards and my breasts exposed before him.

  He never breaks the kiss, his tongue caught with my own, his thick thighs jamming me in place and my whole body electric.

  His lips pull away and I gasp, my chest rising and lifting under his hand. He leans forward and takes one of my nipples into his mouth, pulls it until it becomes a tawny tower against his tongue. I weave my hands through his hair, watching through the window of the study room as the stacks watch on.

  He sucks harder until the nub is firm and numb, moving upwards to kiss the side of my neck while his free hand moves under my skirt and tugs my underwear aside. He pushes me back onto the table, his eyes meeting my own before he takes my mouth again, the emotion and heat between us causing a convulsion to run through my legs.

  Our tongues fight for territory, his chiseled features in my hand. It is happening, and he’s dropping, dropping to his knees in front of me, his powerful arms pushing my thighs wide and the mouth of my virgin pussy yawning open in response.

  His fingers slide down my thighs into that slick valley, his calloused fingers finding my clit easily as I whimper and shiver knowing we could be sprung at any moment, that this is taking place right here in the open.

  “Nate,” I whisper, a ghost, my eyes closing as his fingers are replaced by his mouth, my desire increasing with every lash of his tongue. He separates my lips and darts deeper until my juices flow freely around him, and suddenly the influx of sensation is too much to take.

  I rise, my whole body willing it. My fingers claw into his scalp and my hips start to buck, forcing the dripping face of my pussy hard against his mouth. He savors it, licks me from top to bottom until I moan and mew aloud, holding him in place just a little longer… just… “Oh god.”

  A crash sends us both flying apart. I leap off the table and pull my blouse back into position, seeing through the window that one of the librarians has turned her cart over on the way down to the stacks.

  I’m still tingling, so, so close to release, but the moment I look at Nate, at his faint stubble still wet with my arousal, it all evaporates.

  What are you doing?

  “I-” I turn away, buttoning up my blouse, my fingers slipping.

  With him?

  He reaches out for me, his erection obvious. “Lucy, wait.”

  I grab my bag and rush past him, don’t even bother collecting my books. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  I run out of the library with my senses alight, a conflict of biblical proportions hammering away in my head.

  I can’t be with a guy like Nate Compton, but then I remember the way he kissed me, his mouth on my… No, no, no, no, no.

  I’m startled when someone taps me on the shoulder. I spin to find Creepy Guy smiling at me. He’s got something stuck in his teeth. Spinach. “You never called me back.”

  I start running again, yelling “sorry.” I run until I put as much distance between myself and the library as possible.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NATE

  I sink the three just before the buzzer, my hand still hanging in the air as the Cat House goes crazy. I thought it was full the first night, but even the stairs have become temporary seating now.

  I’m more at ease here with every game, but when I see Lucy, I freeze. She’s trying her best not to look like she’s watching me from the first row, perks of being the Dean’s daughter, no doubt.

  I can’t get the library out of my head. I didn’t think it could work. Our worlds are so far apart. But that was no preacher’s daughter in there. No, that was something else entirely.

  I’m about to head over when the preacher man himself blocks my way. He holds my shoulder. “Well done, Nate. Seems like it’s all paying off.”

  I remain cold and keep walking, diverting from Lucy now to the lockers. She watches us curiously.

  The Dean stands in front of me again. “How’s the study going?”

  “You didn’t tell me your tutor was her.”

  The Dean folds his arms, looks to the rafters. “What can I say?”

  I stand closer. “You never told me she was here, at Manning.”

  “I didn’t see the need. Are you saying it’s not working?”

  Her lips on mine, the hint of salt as I took her nipple into my mouth. “No… I just… It was unexpected, that’s all.”

  His eyes grow sharper. I still remember the way he looked over me back then. I’ll never forget it.

  He crosses his arms. “What have you told her?”

  “Nothing, but she’s going to connect the dots eventually.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but I can’t have you jeopardizing your position here. Do you understand me?”

  I say it through gritted teeth. “Yes.”

  He smiles and pats me on the chest. “Good, because if you keep this up, who knows how high you’ll climb.”

  The locker room’s buzzing. Winning will do that.

  Coach finds me on the bench getting dressed.

  Tyson throws up a high five on his way out, “Later, King Compton.”

  The Coach places his foot up onto the bench, hands on his hips like he’s Colonel Custer. “King Compton?”

  “Seems I have a nickname.”

  “Cute.”

  Charleston passes and nods.

  Coach watches the exchange. “Looks like you two have resolved your differences.”

  I smirk. “In a way.”

  I can still hear the crowd above perky post-win. In fact, it’s our third win in a row.

  Coach knows it. “We’re on a roll thanks to you.”

  I start undoing my laces. “Thanks to the team, you mean.”

  He laughs. “The ‘team.’ Let’s not bullshit, Compton. Without you and your high flying we’d be in the shit, wouldn’t we?”

  “I’m trying to be a team player.”

  Coach nods and sits next to me. “I know, son. I’ve seen it out there. Your average is ten points down because of it, but as a team we’re up twenty, so I think it all evens out, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I would.”

  “I know where you come from. They play by different rules out there, which is fine. College ball? It’s all a big show, just a watered-down NBA full of whiney rich brats and shadowy father figures.”

  “You trying to be my father figure?”

  “Fuck no. I know trouble when I see it. Take your little lady, for example.”

  I act dumb. “Little lady?”

  “I’m old, but I’m not blind. I saw her making her escape the other morning.”

  “I was just helping her out.”

  “I don’t care if you were fucking her five ways to Sunday, you can bet your ass the Dean’s going to rain down fire and brimstone when he finds out.”

  “Have you told him?”

  Coach pats me on the leg. “Give me a little more credit than that. I need you alive and throwing threes, not dead under the science block.”

  I run my
fingers through my hair, think about the way she stroked me there, so delicate running down the side of my neck, the sweet inside of her mouth. “It’s going to be a problem, isn’t it?”

  Coach nods. “The Dean started at Manning this year, but like I said, we were here together back in the day, as students. He loves this place, but he loves that girl more. If he thinks something’s going to threaten her… well.”

  “I’ll play it safe.”

  The coach stands. “Don’t be a dumbass, Compton. Make a choice—the girl or the court. I hate to be the voice of reason, but you can’t have both.

  *

  Another day passes in agony. I’m high from the win, but what went down between Lucy and me remains unresolved.

  I finally manage to catch up to her up outside the cafeteria. I try to be as casual as I can, backpack slung over my shoulder.

  We stand a foot apart. She grips a textbook tight, red ribbon in her hair. I’ve seen it before. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Go easy. Act casual. “No Amber?”

  “No Amber.”

  She looks away, clearly awkward. You’re losing her.

  “You see the game?”

  “I did. You were great.”

  I can’t take it anymore. I hold her by the arm and pull her into an alcove, students rushing past between classes. “About the library.”

  She casts her eyes down. “It was a mistake. I’m not that kind of girl.”

  I lift her face up. “How do you know? You’re not even going to try?”

  “You and me… If Dad ever found out.”

  I can’t believe I’m being so persistent about this when reason tells me I should be pushing her away, protect her from the harm and heartbreak that will no doubt come crashing down upon her if she’s with me. She wouldn’t be able to take it. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about, Lucy.” I run my hand through my hair. “God, I’ve never felt like this before.”

  I see the barest hint of a smile. “Really?”

  I smile back. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  She places her hand on my chest, brand hot. “We wouldn’t want that now.”

  I take her arms. “Please, Lucy. Give us a chance. I know I’m probably not the guy you pictured being with, but trust me, we can be good together. Let me show you.”

 

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