Done. Take that, you pompous asshole. Just as I’m about to hit send, I don’t. If I send this to him, I’m out of options. This is my one chance to raise enough money to buy my freedom from being some guy’s plaything for an evening. Virgin or no, I pride myself on at least being choosy about whom I sleep with. The first one was a solid choice...until he wasn’t.
No. I can’t throw in the towel yet on PDK. I need them. They are the only way I can raise enough money to stop the auction. I’m going to have to go find him.
It’s the only solution, find him, and beg if I have to. God, I hope I don’t have to. This ass already thinks he’s better than all of us. How am I going to change his mind?
I take a deep, calming breath. I have class in an hour and being this pissed and up in the air is certainly not a good idea. I’m going to have to settle this with him now.
Regardless of the joy the idea of telling him what a shithead he is brings me, I’m still very much in need of his assistance. No matter how many times I inhale and exhale, it does nothing to calm my nerves. I’m a walking live wire; one false move and I’m certain to explode. Throwing my laptop in my bag, I storm out the door, down the hall and head across campus to where Sarah—who is obsessed—says he practices.
Apparently breathing is in fact not a good calming technique for me, because by the time I enter the building and march my ass to the stage, I’m fuming. I’ve reread the email over and over again in my head and I keep getting stuck on one part. I assure you, no guy worth anything will ever take you or your lack of morals seriously.
Although he meant it as a slam to the idea, I can’t help but take it personally. I will my hands to stop shaking. I’ll never reason with him if I come across as a bitch, but at the same time, I don’t want him to confuse me with someone who gives a shit about Punch-Drunk Kids. To me, they are a means to an end. Nothing more.
I’m standing right in front of a dark-haired Greek god fidgeting with a microphone on the stage, and I decide this must be Matt, the dickhead singer. When he looks up at me, his dark eyes roam over my body and he smirks, probably assuming I’ll fall to his feet and worship him. I don’t.
But his flirtatious demeanor does disarm me. My anger dissipates and in its place is uncertainty. I need to get my head in the game. I can’t look weak. This concert is too important for me to blow. Hands on hips, I narrow my eyes.
“Where can I find Matt James?” I lift my chin, meeting his gaze head-on.
“Whoa there, tiger. It’s obvious you’re pissed off. I assume it’s because of one of us.” He quirks a brow. “Did I sleep with you or something? Never call you after we fucked?” The glint in his eyes tells me this is a distinct possibility with more than one woman. I want to smack him upside the face. Instead, my nose scrunches in disgust.
“No. God, no. I didn’t sleep with you.”
“You want to?”
“What? I... Uh...”
“Is that a yes?”
“No. God. Stop.”
“So, what’s the problem, love?”
“I came to clear up the misunderstanding of what Beta Kappa Nu is trying to accomplish with our auction. It seems we got off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to set things straight.”
“And you think you can do that by barging in on our practice?” I hear from behind me and turn to see Mathewson from class.
What is he doing here?
A small dimple forms on his cheek. God, is he cute.
Stop daydreaming about him. He’s the enemy.
“I might.” I huff and he smirks.
My eyes widen as I take him in. He looks nothing like he does in class. His hair is all disheveled, long and unruly, like he just fucked someone. My face warms at the notion. I will myself to stop gawking but I can’t. He can’t be the infamous Matt James. Can he? I internally berate myself for not doing my homework. How could I not know that Mathewson and Matt James are one and the same?
Simple. I don’t go to parties and I definitely don’t go to their concerts. It’s part of my reformed life. While all the girls go out, drink and fawn over the band in front of me, I stay in and study. I want to graduate early, like I did high school. My goals surpass catching the eye of the hottest guy on campus, getting knocked up and being a stay-at-home mom. Nope. Not going to happen to me. Which is only one more reason why the auction is not happening.
When my mind stops wandering at a hundred miles an hour, I look up to see Mathewson’s gaze, intensely focused on me.
I’m completely entranced by the way he stares at me, by the way my body reacts to him. My nipples pebble beneath my blouse just watching him breathe, just watching his pupils dilate and take me in. Like he wants to devour me. As if I’d let him.
Why can’t he be the one?
Why can’t he be the person to bid on me? I would gladly hand over my body to him. Hell, I’d place myself on a platter, spread out for him to consume as he pleases.
Now more than ever, I know I can’t give myself to some no-name man that I have no feelings for. Not when with one small touch I feel this way about this guy. How can I allow myself to be so callous with my body? It’s not right, and it’s not fair. I have to find a way out of the auction, and that way is through Punch-Drunk Kids. I need to plead my case to Mathewson; I need to convince him to do the concert. And if that’s not enough...maybe I can ask him to bid on me.
“Earth to Caroline,” he teases, and I pull myself out of my dirty thoughts and straighten my back. “Is your head always in the clouds?” He smirks, recalling class and effectively making me feel like an idiot.
I know he’s poking fun at me, but it’s embarrassing. I freaking moaned. Out loud. In class. If he only knew the source of my near orgasm, I would never be able to face him again.
“I’m thinking. You caught me off guard. I didn’t realize you’d be here,” I fire back.
“You caught me off guard. I would’ve never taken you for a sorority girl.”
My hackles are up, and a wall has been erected around my heart. He might be Mathewson, the guy I’ve dreamed about, but Matt James is a different story. We all have two sides and I can safely say I despise one of his.
“You’re an ass, Matt,” I spit venomously. He can make generalizations all he wants, but I’m far from a slut. No matter how hot I think he is, I won’t allow him to talk to me like that.
“What did I say?” His voice rises an octave and his eyes are large as if he really doesn’t know what he said to piss me off.
“I’m not a slut.”
His hands come up in surrender. “I didn’t say you were. I simply said I didn’t see you being in a sorority.” He moves toward me and I take a step back.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Caroline.”
I take a deep breath, knowing I need to calm down. I’m off-kilter and losing my shit for no reason other than his proximity to my body. I came here for a reason and I need to get back on track.
I bite my lip. Here goes nothing. “I need you to play the Beta Kappa Nu concert.”
“Do you now?” He smirks.
“Yes,” I hiss, then I suck my cheeks in and try desperately not to say something that will hinder the results I seek.
“And what would you do to get me to play?” Innuendo drips off his words. I’d like to say it isn’t affecting me, but I’d be lying. My panties grow uncomfortably wet at the husky tone of his voice. I squirm, and he chuckles. He knows I’m affected by him.
“Tell you what. You go out with me tomorrow night, I’ll do it.”
“No way.”
“Only way I’m doing it is if you say yes.”
After the email, I’m not sure I know who the man standing in front of me really is. Will Mathewson show up or will it be the douchebag from the email, Matt? The truth is, I don’t care. I want him so bad I can taste it. Like I said, we all have two sides a
nd I haven’t exactly shown him all of mine.
This is a bad idea.
It’s my only idea.
I erase the distance between us, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him out of earshot of the other band members.
“Why should I?”
“Because you need me,” he says, managing to spin me around, pinning me up against the wall. He’s invading my space, stealing my air. Driving me mad. He leans in so our lips are a breath apart. “Tell me you need me, Caroline.”
“I need you.” My words are barely a whisper.
“I’m all yours. If you say yes.”
I can’t resist him.
“Yes.”
Chapter Four
Mathewson
“Are you going to explain what the fuck happened last night?” Ian says, sounding exasperated. “A girl barges in, you insult her, then you ask her out and she agrees? What did I miss?”
“I think what we witnessed was a badass sorority girl ripping Matt James’ balls right from his body,” Kip jests and all the guys join him in laughter.
I mumble curses under my breath, wanting to tell them all to fuck off, but knowing it’ll only spur them on.
“But seriously, man. What was that?” Kip says.
I groan, not wanting to have this conversation with these idiots.
“It’s kind of hard to explain. She’s in my Econ class, and, well, I kind of have a thing for her.” I shrug like it’s no big deal.
“There’s no kinda about it. You acted like a fucking lovesick puppy, dude.” Rocky titters.
I ignore him and trudge forward. “It turns out she is also the treasurer for Beta Kappa Nu, and I sent a less-than-PC response back to an email she sent, asking us to headline a charity event.”
“Since when do you turn away charity?” Rocky asks.
“We don’t, but this sorority is less than ideal to work with in any capacity.”
“That might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” Kip quips. “Sororities are exactly my kind of thing.”
“Yours, but not mine,” I remind him.
He may like to get balls-deep in a swarm of STDs, but I pass.
“They’re the sorority also raising money by auctioning off their virginity.”
Rocky scrunches his nose. “And that’s a problem why? Hell, I might bid.”
“She’s not for fucking sale,” I seethe.
His hands fly up in surrender. “Calm down, dude. I wasn’t talking about her specifically. I’m sure she has friends who’d be a good distraction for a night.”
“It’s wrong, and they shouldn’t be doing it,” I say, cringing at the thought of Caroline being handed off to the highest bidder.
“You’re going to call and cancel on her?” Kip asks, disapprovingly.
There’s no way in hell I’m canceling.
“No. As much as I don’t agree with their tactics, Caroline isn’t that girl. She’s different. I know it.”
“I’ll do it if you say so, but my dick isn’t getting within two feet of some virgin. They’re stage ten clingers. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll snag one of the veterans,” Ian says.
I’m in no place to judge Ian. I’m not exactly a Boy Scout either, but I can’t help but get defensive where Caroline is concerned. She doesn’t strike me as the type to get clingy. But the fact is, I know very little about her. If you’d have asked me before today, I never would’ve said she was a sorority chick.
All the sorority girls I know on this campus are band groupies, park their asses in the front row of every show and have no problem showing their goods. She’s not like that. I don’t care, I couldn’t have been that wrong about her. No, she’s still the girl I’ve wanted this entire semester.
We finish up our practice without another word about the charity gig for Caroline or my lack of balls. I hurry out after it’s over and spend forty-five minutes getting ready. Forty-five fucking minutes. The guys are right; my balls are gone.
* * *
Now I’m standing outside the sorority house, rocking back and forth on my feet, nervous as hell. Get a grip. I ring the bell and wait on wobbly legs. I’m officially a pussy. Moments later the door swings open and my breath hitches. Caroline Littrell is beautiful. There’s no denying she is my kryptonite, and I’m fucked.
“Hi,” she says shyly.
“Hi,” I repeat lamely. I can’t speak, words have failed me and my brain is mush. All I want to do is pull her to me and never come up for air.
“So, where are we going? Have I dressed appropriately?” she asks with a hint of concern.
My eyes rove over her. She’s perfect. From the navy shirt that hugs her breasts and white capri pants that tie in the front, down to the red toenails that her brown flip-flops showcase, she’s breathtaking. “Perfect” slips from my mouth in a whisper, and a brilliant smile spreads across her lips. I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her to my side. It’s seventy-six degrees outside. “Is it okay if we walk? We’re not going far,” I promise.
“Sure. It’s beautiful today. I could use the walk.”
I smile, loving that she goes with the flow. Other girls I’ve dated aren’t so easy to please. The idea of walking and potentially sweating would’ve freaked them out. Not Caroline.
“I’m sorry about interrupting your practice like that. I was desperate,” she says, eyes cast downward.
“Don’t apologize. I was a dick, Caroline. I made an assumption about an entire group of people based on my experience with a handful. It wasn’t fair. I just don’t understand the thought process behind selling off your virginity.”
She sighs. “You and me both.”
“Are you involved with that?” I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to know. But I can’t help it. The thought of Caroline auctioning off her virginity makes my stomach turn.
“Yes, we all are,” she whispers, sounding ashamed.
“Why?” I ask, not trying to sound disgusted or judgmental, but failing a bit.
“We need money. The sorority is in financial trouble and my sorority sister’s family needs the money too. The girls decided this was a viable option. I don’t like it, but I’m kind of getting pushed into it. It’s the one thing they all have to give. We made a virginity pact on bid night,” she says sounding embarrassed.
I stop in my tracks turning toward her. “Don’t be embarrassed about something like that, Caroline. It’s awesome that you’ve waited for the right person.”
Her cheeks redden, and she won’t even look at me. My face heats with my mounting anger. I try hard to press it down. I’m not angry at her. I’m angry that she’s being pushed into it. “You won’t find the right guy at that auction.”
“I know. That’s why I was trying to organize the charity concert. I hoped I’d make enough money on my own that we could cancel the auction.”
“You will, and I’ll make sure of it, Caroline.”
She smiles, squeezing my hand as we continue forward. Ahead the streets are lined with booths and vendors, selling various art and goods. It’s the annual street fair. I look to Caroline, nervous about what she’ll think of my choice of date, but what I find has my chest puffing with pride. She’s beaming.
“I’ve been wanting to get down here. I’m so excited, Mathewson!”
The way she says my name sends chills down my spine and has my balls tightening.
Nobody calls me Mathewson but my family and close friends. To most everyone on this campus, I’m Matt James, lead singer of Punch-Drunk Kids. I like being something more to Caroline. More than anything, I like that she didn’t even know who I was. She’s different than all the others.
“What do you want to do first?” I ask, letting her pick.
“Skee-Ball,” she says pointing to my personal favorite carnival game.
“Game on!”
/>
“What are we playing for?”
“Do I have a gambler on my hands?”
She chuckles. “Possibly.”
I tap my finger to my chin a couple of times. “If I win, you have to come to my concert tomorrow night.”
Her brow rises. “And if I win?”
“That’s your call, blondie.”
She smiles. “If I win, I get backstage passes.” She winks.
“So, you do follow PDK,” I tease.
“No, I’ve never been to a single one of your concerts. I couldn’t even sing one of your songs. I don’t go out. Ever,” she admits, averting her eyes.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. If music wasn’t my life, you wouldn’t find me out, either.”
“What would the great Matt James be doing?” she teases, smiling coyly.
“Now I’m Matt, eh?”
“You know what I mean. I want to know what every other girl on campus wants to know, what is it that Matt James likes?”
“Every girl on campus wants this information, yet you had no idea that he sat right in front of you all semester?” I’m goading her for my own ego. I don’t give a damn what any other girl on campus thinks of me, but I care about Caroline.
“I told you. I don’t go out. I always hear the girls gossip about how hot you are, but it doesn’t mean a thing to me. I like music, but I’m more of a book girl myself.”
“Ouch. You wound me.”
“Change my mind. Win this bet and show me the concert that will change my life.” She smirks.
“Done.”
We play, but I must admit I throw the game. Skee-Ball is my jam, but the thought of having Caroline at my concert and backstage afterward is worth the bruised ego. I’m not too proud. When she throws her last ball and officially wins the game, she jumps and hoots in celebration before turning on me.
“Like I didn’t know you were throwing off,” she says with an arched brow and fake scowl.
I step in closer to her. “Maybe I just want you close to me.”
At that moment a group of rowdy teens comes through, pushing us flush against each other. Caroline is against me and damn if I can help it, I harden as her tits press up against my chest. My ears heat in embarrassment until I watch her tongue dart out and swipe a seductive line across her bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth in a move that has my dick straining my pants.
Star Crossed Page 2