Wanted By You

by Steph Nuss

  Table Of Contents

  Title page

  Copyright page

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Steph Nuss

  Wanted By You

  Bandit Publishing

  Text Copyright © 2014 by Steph Nuss

  All rights reserved.

  Please respect artists’ rights.

  Don't steal books, music, or videos.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Bandit Publishing

  Flower Mound, TX

  ISBN: 978-1-940652-12-2

  Prologue

  August 2004

  Carter

  On a clear August afternoon in New York City, I rushed into building 194M on the campus of NYU to get out of the sweltering heat. It was my first day as a college freshman, and I had Introduction to Psychology with Dr. Harold at one thirty in room 104. So far, the day had gone by quickly, the professors allowing us to leave early after the syllabi were handed out.

  New York's heat was definitely a lot nicer than Texas' had ever been. Making the transition from Dallas, where I grew up, to New York for college was my decision. If it were up to my parents, I'd be driving around in a company car, visiting farmers to negotiate lease agreements for their land so Jennings Oil Operations could drill on it. Mom wasn't happy with my decision and Dad still called me at least once a day suggesting I come home. Unfortunately for them, I already preferred the atmosphere here to my Texas roots.

  I was fifteen minutes early to my first class because I had worried I wouldn't be able to find my way around campus. I skipped freshman orientation. I was man enough to admit when I didn't know where anything was but also man enough to know I could find my own way around. I didn't need some overly energetic girl annoying the hell out of me as she showed me around, batting her eyelashes, attempting to flirt. Accordingly, I'd left my dorm early and meandered around the campus until I found the psychology building.

  Looking for my classroom, I came upon a girl filling her water bottle at a water fountain. Her red hair had hints of brown and blonde running through it, the color unlike any I'd ever seen before. It hung down to the middle of her back and she had mirrored aviator sunglasses resting on top of her head. Once she finished filling her bottle, she placed it in her bag, pulled her hair to one side, and bent down to take a sip from the fountain.

  There was just something about her, something I couldn't look away from. She was radiant, like a beacon in the dull, dim hallway. She sent this warm, fuzzy feeling through my body that was completely foreign. Trying to focus on anything but the beautiful creature a few feet from me, I turned to read a poster discussing an experiment that psychology students performed last year on the Stroop Effect … whatever that was.

  Still admiring her in my peripheral vision, I watched her slide down the wall, taking a seat on the tile floor right outside the room for Intro to Psych. My dick jerked at the thought of sharing a class with her and the rest of me mentally nodded in agreement. If I did anything monumental during my first year of college, it had to be getting to know her.

  Another thing that grabbed my attention was what she was wearing. While most of the girls around campus today were dressed to the nines, she wore workout gear. Black Nike running shorts showed off lean runner's legs and a black Nike tank top that showed off her toned, lightly sunburned arms and small, perfect breasts. She worked out and that made her athletic figure even more desirable. She had on a pair of neon yellow Nikes, which told me she wasn't the type who cared about her makeup or her hair, or even her outfit, but her kicks mattered.

  Leaning against the same wall but farther down, I took a seat. My gaze continued to slide toward her as she clicked away on her iPod, shuffling through her songs. Images of her working out started running through my mind and I wondered what she was listening to. I couldn't decipher the tune, but it sounded like something older. I pictured her running and doing her cardio to some classic rock like The Rolling Stones or Journey. I imagined myself working out with her, silently strengthening our cores together.

  She still hadn't noticed me yet, which was really surprising and somewhat bothersome. She hadn't sent me a glance, a smile, or even acknowledged the fact she wasn't alone in the hallway. I was a good-looking guy. Girls flirted and swayed their hips in my direction more than a dozen times a day and I usually relished it. But, for the first time, I was noticing a girl before she noticed me—or my last name—and that made me a little anxious. I never got nervous around girls, yet here I was getting all self-conscious over a girl who wasn't begging for my attention. What was this one doing to me? First, the warm-and-fuzzies, and now complete insecurity. I tried to shake it all off, blaming all these newfound feelings on the New York heat.

  The door crashed against the wall and I watched the previous class file out. The girl stood up and bolted into the room while students hustled out. A smile stretched across my face as her studious self pushed and shoved its way in to find the perfect seat for the semester. Her eagerness was enticing, even if it was directed toward school.

  Other students who had gathered in the hall started walking into the classroom and I followed suit, spotting her the moment I walked through the door. She couldn't hide with hair as bright as hers. She was keeping to herself next to the farthest wall, in the tenth row up with three seats open to the left of her. I made my way toward her row and watched as others did, too. I wanted the desk next to hers. Hell, I wanted her and I didn't even know her name. Her introversion was slowly but surely wrapping itself around me. I usually wasn't into the quiet girls, but she was different.

  I brushed past fellow students and wiggled my way through the row toward her. This classroom felt like a movie theater, having to crawl over one another to get to a seat. When I was almost to her, she finally looked up from her planner and glanced at me.

  Holy mother of God.

  Her eyes.

  I've seen a lot of redheads in my life, but none of them had brown eyes like these. My dick twitched again at the sight of them, further confirming my thoughts of other redheads. Her eyes made my pulse race, my breath hitch, and I couldn't for the life of me remember ever gazing into eyes as big and as fierce as hers. They were like melted fudge poured over ice cream: delicious and warm.

  "Hey, is this seat taken?" I asked, throwing a nod her way as her eyes ran up and down the length of my body, causing my temperature to rise. Too bad if the seat was taken; I planned on sitting in it anyway. I didn't brush up against eight strangers to be told I couldn't sit next to her.

  "Of course not; it's all yours," she replied in a voice that dripped with politeness while her teeth pulled at her bottom lip. What I wouldn't give to be her bottom lip right now. After class, I'd definitely need a cold shower.

  "Cool. I'm Carter," I said, sm
iling at her, trying my best to suppress my hard-on without making it obvious.

  She nodded and lifted her right hand toward me. "I'm Elly."

  "Elly, huh?" Taking her soft hand in mine, I stared into her beautiful brown eyes and lightly shook her hand. "Is that short for something?"

  Shooting me a grin that would've brought me to my knees had I not already been sitting, she let out a light snicker. "It is. It's short for Ellyson."

  "Ellyson." I nodded, looking up to the ceiling as if I had to think about it. "Hmm … I like it. It's different." The name fit the girl.

  "Thank you. I'm quite fond of it myself," she teased. She was witty, this one. I liked a smart girl. Most of the girls who made sure I noticed them were ditzy and cared too much about themselves. Not Elly, though. Images of picking her up from her seat and hauling her against the wall while I ran my hands over her soft, smooth skin and my mouth ravished hers continued to play out in my mind as we waited for Dr. Harold to arrive.

  Shaking off thoughts of having my way with her, I decided there was no harm in teasing her. "I have a question for you," I said, sitting back in my desk, making myself more comfortable and stretching out my cramped legs. "Do you sit next to the wall in all your classes just so you don't have to deal with someone using your desk as an arm rest?"

  Her cheeks immediately flushed. She pursed her lips and shook her head, tucking a piece of her hair behind her left ear. "Yeah, I do actually. These desks are just so tiny, and I really hate it when someone uses my desk as their arm rest."

  Hearing that succulent mouth of hers play defense made me readjust myself again. I could tell this sweet, strong girl enjoyed letting witty comments fall from those lips of hers. Smart, mouthy, gorgeous. She was flawless.

  "I knew it!" I exclaimed, smiling triumphantly and mentally patting myself on the back for picking out her quirk. "Well, you better not use my desk as your own arm rest or I'll have to move to a different seat." Like hell I'd move. She could use me and my desk for whatever she pleased. She searched my face as I stared down at her lips and then back up into her chocolate eyes. I felt like the fat German kid from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory who fell into the chocolate river because he couldn't get enough. I knew I'd never get enough of her or the sensational feel of her eyes taking me in.

  I lowered my voice to a seductive whisper, attempting to flirt with her. "And I'm really quite fond of the one I'm in right now."

  "I won't; trust me," she muttered quickly, completely ignoring my flirtation as she reached for her water bottle. She was shy and apparently not familiar with guys vying for her attention. Hmm … we'd have to work on that.

  Grabbing my own drink, I reached over and tapped it against hers in a toast. "To making new friends."

  Looking up at me through long brown lashes, she tapped her bottle with mine. "To new friends." My skin burned from the trails her eyes made over my body and I immediately regretting using the term "friends." I definitely wanted to be a lot more than friends with Ellyson.

  Hello, college.

  Ellyson

  Excuse me, but where in the world did this Carter guy come from? He hadn't left me alone since plopping that nice ass of his into the seat next to mine during Intro to Psych. He also hadn't stopped checking me out since clinking his water bottle with mine and throwing me his best cocky grin. Everything about him, from his gorgeous, messy brown hair and deep brown eyes to his lean, muscular build, made me wish I'd wore something cuter to class than my workout clothes. Nice one, Elly. Of course, the hottest guy I'd yet to see on campus would walk into my life on the same day I dress like a complete bum. In his white muscle tee and dark green cargo shorts, he looked like something straight out of a Hollister ad. He was nicely tanned, his arms and legs ripped to perfection. Thoughts of his naked, sun-kissed body floated into my brain as warmth flowed through my body. I couldn't help imagining how magnificent the six-pack hiding underneath his tee might be. The throbbing sensation between my legs made it impossible for me not to picture all the dirty things I wanted to do to him. Clenching my thighs together, I silently brushed away my ridiculously inappropriate thoughts. I didn't even know him and here I was mentally having my naughty way with him.

  After Dr. Harold dismissed class, I quickly packed up my things, pulled my aviators over my eyes, and stood to leave. Waiting for the rest of the row to leave, Carter leaned down to me.

  "Do you live in the dorms?" he whispered in my ear over the ruckus.

  His closeness and the way he smelled of soap and woods turned me inside out. I heard my heartbeat in my ears and my breath shuddered at his whispered words. He made me nervous and excited all at the same time. I fancied the energized feelings he sent through me, though. I'd never had a guy give me butterflies, and I wasn't about to ignore them. Flutter on, butterflies, flutter on!

  "You don't even know my last name but you wanna know where I live?" I asked playfully, raising my eyebrows at him. What a player he was, and he was doing such a terrible job at trying to convince me otherwise. Carter had player written all over his perfect biceps and his chiseled jaw and his thin (but probably really soft) lips. He was definitely a guy my heart and I should stay away from but, sadly, the rest of my anatomy begged to differ.

  "Ha ha. If you must know, I live in the dorms and was wondering if you wanted to walk back together," he said, his eyes burning holes through me. He needed to stop that, or Dr. Harold and the remaining students would get a show as I jumped him right here in row ten and had my wicked way with his sex-on-legs body. Damn him and his fine body and his cocky grin and his deep, sexy voice.

  "That works for me," I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My brain practically screamed at how bad an idea this was, but my heart, in its ignorance, couldn't care less.

  Grabbing my left hand, he led me out of the row and down the steps out to the hall. I know butterflies can't squeal, but I think I heard the ones in my stomach do just that as I held his hand. I thought back to the song I was listening to before class: Cheap Trick's "I Want You to Want Me." It was one of my favorite oldies. I'd listened to that song a thousand times and never really thought about any guy in particular, until now.

  Until Carter.

  And now I wanted him to want me.

  Walking outside, I noticed flocks of girls staring at him, shooting him suggestive glances and waves and saying "Heeey, Carter!" in their best baby voices. Oh, make me puke. I obviously wasn't the only one who wanted him. I even noticed guys checking him out. Carter and his god-like features grabbed everyone's attention. Why was he still holding my hand? I tensed up as I walked beside him, my hand becoming sweatier with nerves. He even had a swagger about him that I couldn't help noticing. Some people have a characteristic strut and Carter's definitely made the eyes do the wave in appreciation.

  Noticing how quiet I had been since we'd left the building, he squeezed my hand, which was still entwined with his … which I was still overanalyzing. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, shooting me a worried glance through his own aviators.

  "Nothing," I answered, trying to calm myself. Breathe, Elly; just breathe. I let go of his hand and wiped the sweat that had formed between our palms on my shorts. I didn't like the jealous looks I was receiving from the other girls on campus. He wasn't mine. They didn't need to think he was. And I definitely didn't need to believe a guy like him would be into a girl like me. Carter could have his pick of the crop and a guy like that was totally out of my league. I was the nice, smart girl who didn't even want a boyfriend. I preferred working out to going shopping. I owned several pairs of tennis shoes and only one pair of heels that I didn't even know how to walk in. I enjoyed watching movies more than going to parties. I never dressed to impress, and I never actually cared what a guy thought about me until Carter came along. I was losing my marbles over a guy for the first time in my life and it was completely freaking me out.

  "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by holding your hand."

  "You didn't … well, you d
idn't on purpose. I just didn't want someone thinking we were together or something," I said, running a hand through my hair and sliding my gaze in the direction of a group of girls who were shooting daggers at me.

  Carter shot them a glare and grabbed my hand again. "I don't care what they think. We're friends, right?"

  There it was. The two words a girl never wanted to hear from a really hot guy: we're friends.

  My heart snapped in two and sank like the Titanic after only knowing him for about an hour. He probably already had a girlfriend or was some sort of womanizer who got off on breaking hearts and taking names. I mean, I didn't even know his last name or anything else about him, yet my panties were already soaked and begging to be dropped.

  "Yeah, friends," I said, nodding in agreement and flashing him a soft, half-smile as we continued toward the dorms. I just wanted to get to my room and die of humiliation. My misguided thoughts over Carter made me wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

  When we finally reached the dorms, he stopped me before walking through the door, sliding his shades up to rest in his mess of hair—hair my fingers wanted to crawl through. "Maybe we could hang out later; get to know one another?"

  I didn't want to hang out with him, but how could I tell those adorable, melt-in-your-mouth dark eyes no? Every part of my body wanted to hang out with him and get to know every part of his body. Jesus, Elly. The invisible Cupid practicing his archery skills on me really needed to cut it out.

  "Yeah, that'd be fine," I muttered, staring at the ground in an attempt to look anywhere but at him. Hanging out with him would be pure torture.

  Grabbing my chin and lifting it, he made it impossible for me to look anywhere but at him. What an ass. When Carter demanded attention, he sure got it. Had I not liked the feel of his big, strong hand on my face so much, I would've slapped him.