SNATCHED (A Sports Romance)

by Harper James

  Her writing is so good that I can’t help feel a little jealous of this imaginary Court person, the way she describes him. I tell myself it’s because of her writing, not because I’m starting to get feelings for her. But it’s still unnerving.

  Addison comes to her stopping point and bites her lip in uncertainty, waiting for the first commentary. Or, as I'm sure she's expecting, the first assailant.

  "Court is named after the guy in The Man in the Moon," Addison adds. "I love that movie."

  "I love it too." Emme's agreement is soft-spoken, but it's there.

  "Better." Tommy nods slowly, like he's still thinking about Addison's words. "Way better."

  "Really?!" Addison lights up, and I have to hold myself in check not to laugh. She's too cute for this class.

  "I agree," I say. Her eyes meet mine and she smiles for what might be the first time in this classroom. "Definitely felt more emotion there. I like how she sounds almost angry, kind of justified in whatever it is she's done. Kind of vindicated."

  Addison nods in enthusiasm. "She is."

  "I can't wait to find out how that unfolds."

  "She's talking to someone," Emme observes. "That's new."

  "It sounds almost like a journal," Tommy puts in.

  After the whole class gives input except for Luna, I have to prompt her. "Luna," I say. "Can you give us your thoughts?"

  "Eh." Luna shrugs, picking at her nail polish, which is blood red today. "I couldn't tell where she was going with it."

  To her credit, Addison doesn't let her shoulders slump, or pull a face, or start crying or something. She doesn't roll her eyes. She just smiles and says "That's okay. I know where I'm going with it."

  "Sorry," Luna retorts, her tone indicating she's not at all. "I just couldn't really follow what you were doing there. It didn't grab me."

  "All right, Luna," I say. "There's plenty of time--"

  "I'm happy with it." Addison's voice is calm, totally in control. "So far, at least."

  "Good for you."

  "What is your problem?" Addison keeps her voice level, but clearly can't let this go unchecked anymore.

  "I don't know." Luna looks somewhere between annoyed and surprised to be called out so directly. "Your writing? Your skill level?"

  "My skill level?"

  "Okay, you know what? I'm just going to say it. I've been holding my tongue, but if you want to know, we can take it there. I don't get how you got into this group."

  Addison flinches. I'm sure she knew that was coming, but hearing it like that has to suck. I should save her. "Luna--"

  "Sorry, Chase, but it's the truth. I thought this course was for serious writers."

  "What makes you think I'm not serious?" Addison's face is a storm cloud now. So much for the calm and collected look.

  "You sashay in here with your sorority self and your Chanel bag and you don't have the talent. Not that I can see."

  "I'm not in a sorority," Addison shoots back. "I like my Chanel bag, and who the hell made you the judge of who has talent and who doesn't?"

  "I’ve been listening to your work for a few classes now."

  "And I've had to listen to yours."

  "Had to?"

  "I might be in the minority on this, but your writing isn't my cup of tea. But I'm not trying to get your seat at this table reconsidered. So why are you doing that to me?"

  "Do you know how many contests I've won?" Luna's completely irate now. Addison might as well have insulted her firstborn. "Sorry it isn't your cup of tea, but people tell me they're blown away by my writing."

  "Blown away by what? How whiny it is?"

  "Whiny?!"

  "It comes off that way, yeah."

  "It's better than anything you've ever written, or will ever write. Let me tell you what your shit sounds like, just so you'll know." Luna adopts a dramatic, overtly feminine pose. "Hi I'm Addison, and I'm so perfect. Oh my God. How did I get here? I'm majoring in business, because I love my daddy, and I could give two shits about the actual art."

  Addison's face registers shock, but then she swallows. "Okay," she says. "Let me show you what you sound like, Luna. 'Fuck my life! I hate the world! Sad. Tears. Slash. Wrists. Ouch. Beautiful. Black. I. Space. Words. Out. So. They. Sound. More. Dramatic. Waaahhh emo emo EMO!'"

  "Fuck you!"

  "There's never any problem mentioned to warrant that suicidal woe-is-me shit!" Addison yells. "If there was an actual fucking problem to make someone feel like that, then sure, but you have yet to fucking present one."

  Okay, I have to break this up now. I’ve watched in shock with everyone else long enough. "Ladies!" I say. "Both of you. Enough."

  "I'm done." Luna gathers her books in a huff. "No worries, Chase. I'm gone for today." Addison watches in silence as Luna pushes back from her chair and stands up. "It's insulting that she's in here."

  Addison just shakes her head. Luna stomps out the door, and Emme, who's said nothing throughout this exchange, glances around with her mouth open and then looks at the door, like she's not sure if she should follow her friend.

  "Sorry for that." Addison bites her lip, then puts her papers back into her notebook. "I guess I'll go, too."

  "No, no." I'm not condoning the yelling, but I don't want Addison to leave. I can’t bear the thought of her leaving, of her being upset and me not being there to comfort her. "Stay. If you can be calm. Stay, and we'll go on with class. Okay?"

  She looks at all of us in turn, and since nobody's objecting, she nods. "Okay," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

  I assign some freewriting, and sit quietly while they work. I notice Addison's pen scrawling, but the look on her face, the wide eyes-- definitely green now-- says she's shaken up.

  I want to comfort her.

  The feeling is foreign to me.

  I want to comfort her, and not just because I want to have sex with her or get her naked or teach her how to take a harder spanking.

  I want to comfort her because the thought of her being upset tears at me.

  Don’t shit where you eat.

  Fuck.

  ADDISON

  "What a bitch."

  Kensie takes a big bite of her taco, listening to me vent. "And so after she walked out, I was going to leave, too, but they asked me to stay."

  "So you stayed?"

  "Yep."

  "Good for you."

  Kensie's the best. She really is. "I was rattled, but I got through the rest of class."

  "Don't let them see they get to you."

  I nod and hand the server my glass so she can refill my tea. "I won't. And the weird thing is, it felt good."

  "I'm sure." My roommate leans back in her chair and surveys the bar, something she always does no matter where she is or who she's with. "And you were right. And now she knows you won't put up with her shit."

  Sitting at the Green Tavern dumping my class issues on Kensie feels good too. I apologized twice for it, but she waved that away and insisted I bitch to my satisfaction. "I can't remember the last time I did that. Just laid into somebody."

  The waitress returns with my tea, and Kensie orders dessert. While she asks for her sundae, the door opens and Chase strides in with another guy, both of them looking around at the kitsch and the license plate wall.

  My breath catches in my chest. He’s wearing a dark jacket over a crisp white t-shirt and dark jeans, his hair tousled, his face smooth, with no trace of the stubble I’ve gotten used to raking over my skin while we kiss.

  I’m flustered, not sure how to act.

  "Chase just showed up," I tell Kensie, who immediately whips around to look.

  "He's still so fucking hot,” she says. “And his friend's cute, too."

  "What's he doing here?" I wonder.

  "People gotta eat. I'm sure not every meal he has is catered. And he's probably scared of the dining hall now."

  I manage a laugh at her gentle ribbing, but my eyes stay on Chase. I haven't told Kensie about our... whatever
it is we have. I'm not sure how to talk to him here, with his friend and my friend, in one of the most popular spots in town. At first I think maybe he won't see me and I won't have to, but his eyes eventually land on me, and I think he might turn around and bolt.

  The indecision slips over his face, and I can see him wrestling with what to do. Should he pretend he doesn’t know me? Or would that be even more obvious? Finally, he waves, and tugs his friend over to my table.

  "Hey," he says, all smiles. "Rex, this is one of my students, Addison. This is my buddy from New York."

  "Well hello," Kensie says, holding her hand out to Rex. Chase and I exchange a quick grin.

  I introduce Kensie and ask Chase what they're up to.

  "I heard this was a must-eat kind of place,” he says, his eyes on me. Jesus, he's sexy. I want to reach for him so bad, but of course I can't. "Trying to get some of the local color while Rex is in town."

  "What do you do?" Kensie asks Rex, who says he's in the movie business, producing and working his way up. Chase won't stop looking at me during their conversation, which is thankfully short, because I might melt into the seat.

  "I hear you had to ref a little dispute in your class." Kensie turns her attention to Chase, not missing a beat. "My girl here told her what's up."

  Chase's laugh is as beautiful as ever. "She didn't give in, that's for sure."

  "Stick to your guns," Rex advises, though he probably doesn't even know what happened. Kensie asks him about New York, and Rex smiles as he answers her. He's cute, I guess, but nothing like Chase. Who's still watching me with a knowing grin as Kensie and Rex talk.

  "I like seeing you stand up for yourself,” he says quietly. His eyes dart back and forth, like running into me at the Green is surely taboo. "It was refreshing."

  "Turns out I can do that."

  "I wonder what would happen if you did that with... other people."

  I weigh the intensity in his icy blue eyes. I can't answer him. Not that I haven't asked myself that same thing, but I can't answer it. Instead, I ask him how his book is coming. When I asked about it last weekend at his place, he got this weird look and didn't really want to talk about it. But today he seems over that. "Better. I cranked out a few chapters."

  "Excellent." I notice Kensie and Rex have run out of chitchat, and the four of us exchange more smiles.

  "We should put our names on the list," Chase declares. "There wasn't a hostess when we came in, but looks like she's back."

  "This place is known for that," Kensie tells him. "We love it anyway."

  "Enjoy your dinner," I call after the guys. A silent sigh escapes me, and Kensie can't stop checking Rex out. Part of me wants to tell her. She's my roommate, my closest friend here in this little town in the middle of nowhere. But I glance at Chase, who's being seated ahead of everyone else, and I know I can't. Kensie can't know. Nobody can.

  The next day is a peaceful Wednesday, splattering raindrops but nothing too bad. I'm finishing my lunch in the dining hall when my phone buzzes. It's Chase.

  Come over.

  Grinning into my phone screen, I text back that I'd love to, but I have homework.

  Do it at my house.

  Um, yeah, that will work out great.

  I won't distract you. I'll work on my book.

  I guess...

  Now.

  Okay, okay, fine.

  I stop by my dorm room, collecting the books I need, and Kensie looks up from her yoga mat on the floor.

  "Are you doing that again?" I ask.

  "It helps my shoulder. Where you going?"

  I hate lying to her. "Dunno, maybe the library."

  She glances at the books I'm holding. "Don't study too hard. K?"

  I see the earnestness in her brown eyes and I want to throw my arms around her and beg her to forgive me. What I do is say, "Not a problem," turn on my heel, and open the door. "See you later, Kens."

  Kensie knows my parents push me. Sometimes I think maybe I'll tell her that I fantasize about peacing out of the business school. Not dropping out of Noland or anything, just switching majors. But I've already done that once. Twice, if you count the time I spent undeclared. Any more jumping around and I'm going to get majorly behind on credits. Not to mention piss my parents off beyond repair.

  I marvel at how I barely register where I'm going as I swing onto Chase's street. Has driving over here become second nature to me? Who ever would have thought that I'd get used to driving to Chase Brooks' house?

  He opens his front door and beckons me inside before I'm out of the car. "Hurry up and get inside."

  "Hi to you, too."

  "I'm bored." His eyes rake up my body, and a sexy little grin tugs at his lips. I suck in a breath, wanting his hands on me and his lips on mine, but I tell myself I have to study.

  "I hear writing a book helps that."

  "Yeah, yeah."

  I head for the dining room table and plop down at one of the huge chairs. "I'll just set up shop here, okay? You can write in your office if you want. You don't have to stay out here and entertain me. I'm good."

  Surprisingly, Chase agrees, and for the first twenty minutes, everything is dead quiet-- peaceful, just my pages turning. I can't even hear the clacking of Chase's keyboard, since his office is a mile away in this huge house. But eventually, I glance up from my textbook and see Chase standing a few feet away, a look of boredom on his face. "This sucks."

  "Chase!" I toss my pen in the air. "You're supposed to be writing."

  "I wrote a couple of sentences."

  "Yay?"

  "Sorry."

  "You said we wouldn't bother each other."

  "I guess I lied."

  "I don't really like my reading material, don't get me wrong." I gesture to my Business Ethics book. "But I have to read this before Friday."

  "Addison." He says my name in a way that nobody else ever has. To me it’s always sounded boring and dull, but Chase makes it sound sexy, sophisticated and exotic. "I think you're forgetting something."

  "What's that?"

  "I'm--" he takes a step towards me and shuts my book. "Your professor."

  "I have to study!” I go to open my book back up, but he presses the cover down, keeping it closed.

  "Do I detect attitude?" He’s so close to me now that I can feel his breath on the back of my neck while he talks, and every one of my nerve endings is now on alert.

  Despite myself, that authoritative thing he does is getting to me again. I don't know how he does it. It's like my body just responds to him without being able to help it.

  "No," I say softly. “No, I’m not giving attitude.”

  "Good." He cocks his head toward the stairs. "Come with me."

  He holds his hand out. He’s so fucking handsome, and so sexy, and laying those blue eyes all over me, there is nothing I can do to resist.

  Chase takes my hand and for a moment, I think he’s considering fucking me right here on the stairs, but he continues on to his room, where I woke up that first morning after being with him, on the soft marshmallow-y bed.

  That's where I land when he gives me a little shove.

  "Oof,” I say, my cheek against the comforter.

  "I think I did detect some attitude." Chase rubs my ass and the back of my thigh. Out of nowhere, he gives me a smack through my jeans. "That ought to teach you."

  "Maybe," I say brattily, and he smacks my ass again. "Oww. That hurt.”

  “Good.” He smacks me again, harder than he’s ever hit me, and the pain stings even through the fabric of my jeans. "Do you like that, Addison?"

  "Yes," I say honestly. I never thought I would, but there’s no denying the wetness between my legs and the hard thrumming of my heart against my rib cage.

  He spanks me a few more times, each blow harder than the next, until I’m left panting and wanting.

  When he finally stops, he tells me to take off my clothes.

  He watches me do it, his eyes traveling over my body as I obey his com
mands. He releases a breath when I unclasp my bra and drop it to the floor beside my jeans and shirt, my breasts bouncing free, my nipples already hard from the spanking and the intensity of his gaze on my half-naked body.

  "Now show me that ass."

  I turn around and pull my thong off, teasing him by taking my time.

  "Yeeeahh," he says. He'd backed up to watch me undress, but now comes close again, feeling the skin on my thighs, running his hands all over them and back to my butt, which he grabs.

  And I love it. I love the look he gets when he tells me what to do and devours me with his eyes and his hands. I gasp as he spanks me again, this time on my bare skin, which is already sore and raw.

  "Had enough?" he demands, wrapping my hair around his hand and giving a gentle tug.

  "No,” I manage, not sure if it’s true.

  "No, sir."

  "No, sir."

  "Good. Now lie down."

  I obey, heart thudding in pleasure.

  "Arms above your head."

  I put my arms up, and he takes a scarf from his top dresser drawer and gently ties my hands to the Shaker headboard.

  He gestures to my legs. "Spread them."

  I open myself up, and he mumbles, "Sweet Jesus," and drops his pants. Looking hungry, he climbs on top of me. His mouth lowers, finding my nipple as he sucks it into his mouth.

  I watch, fascinated, as he licks and sucks and pulls the bud, sending pleasure ricocheting through me.

  He lets me go with an audible pop, then moves down my body, his breath sliding over my skin as I writhe beneath him.

  “Stay still.”

  I do my best to obey him, but it’s difficult as his mouth is now just inches from my pussy. “Do you know how good you taste?” he asks.

  “No, sir.”

  He slides a finger over my slick entrance so gently, so erotically that I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming in frustration.

  He takes his finger and sucks it, tasting me, and then returns to my mouth, kissing me hard and deep.

  “Taste it, baby,” he whispers. “Taste yourself on my tongue.”

  It’s so dirty that I moan and writhe on the bed, wanting him back between my legs. I’m dripping wet, laying here tied and helpless, unable to do anything except beg.