by Hannah Gray
Great. Thinking of her tits and face has me hard. Painfully hard. And now, I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. I could fuck her and ruin this budding friendship. Or I could keep her as a friend and fuck some random chick at tonight’s party and risk pissing her off. Which, essentially, could lead to me getting my dick cut off by her. Tough decision. Very, very tough decision.
Anna
We haven’t been here that long. Yet Cameran’s already taken off to go home. She said she wasn’t feeling good, but I know that’s a load of horseshit. She and Trent are having some weird little lovers’ quarrel. I don’t get them. At all. But I see the way he looks at her, and he’s like a love-struck puppy. Which is crazy because Trent Kade is a man-whore. I mean, technically, Mason is too. So, why I’m even bothering to get to know him is dumb on my part. But, damn it, I like having him as a friend. And he’s so hot. I’m talking like the sexiest man I have ever laid eyes on hot. That’s probably why Trent, Mason, and Lane are every girl’s obsession on campus here at NEU. They’re all gorgeous. Rumor has it that they’re pretty gifted down there, too, in the size department.
Why does the thought of that make my mouth suddenly dry?
I didn’t want to latch on to Mason at this party and risk looking like a stage-five clinger. So, I find some girls I know from my classes, and we head out onto the makeshift dance floor.
Camille, who is a curvy and extremely sexy blonde, grinds against me. We know the guys are all watching. I’m subconsciously hoping one guy in particular has his eyes on me right now. We rub against each other, both showing a decent amount of skin. “Talk Dirty” by Jason Derulo fills the speakers.
Camille is getting a little too handsy when, suddenly, strong hands land on my hips. I don’t have to turn around to know who I’ll find. I’d know Mason’s sexy scent anywhere. It’s like pine needles mixed with a masculine, fresh scent, and it’s totally droolworthy. It literally makes me weak in the knees. He presses his nose to my neck and tugs me closer. Pushing his very hard erection right to my ass. His very, very, very large erection. Did I mention very large?
Guess those rumors are true.
After a few more songs play and we’re both covered in a sheen layer of sweat, we take a break.
He pulls me behind him to the kitchen and grabs us each a water from the fridge.
Handing me mine, he leans in, so I can hear him over the music. “Want to go upstairs to my room for a bit?”
I put my hand on my hip and narrow my eyes. “And do what exactly?”
He holds his hands up. “Hey, I just meant, we can watch a movie or something. I didn’t mean anything else.” His lips twitch in amusement. “I mean, unless you’re into it?”
A part of me wants to go upstairs and push him down on his bed and take full advantage of that very large package I just felt while we were dancing. Part of me needs that. But another part of me, the one with self-control, wants him to work for it.
I shrug. “Fine, but only to watch a movie. You make one move, and I’ll tase your dick.”
“Taste my dick? I mean, if you insist!” he jokes.
I roll my eyes. Although the thought of doing just that makes me tingle between my legs.
“Come on.” He jerks his head toward the stairs and starts walking that way, catching my hand and pulling me along with him.
Mason
“So, what do you want to watch?” I ask her while grabbing the remote and making myself comfortable on the bed next to her.
I couldn’t stand to see the other motherfuckers at our party watching her dance. They basically had drool running down their fucking chins. I either had to mark my territory fast or beat the shit out of all of them. This way seemed to be simpler and make me look a little less like a fucking psychopath.
“Whatever.” She shrugs, looking at her nails, appearing bored. She always seems to pretend to act too cool. “Do you have Netflix?” she asks.
“Who doesn’t have Netflix?” I scrunch my forehead up.
That earns me a glare and a middle finger. Typical Red.
“I heard of this show called Tiger King. I hear it’s weird as fuck but sucks you in.” I’ve been wanting to watch it. But between football and classes, that doesn’t leave much time.
“Cool beans. Let’s do it.” Her vanilla smell hits me and sends a jolt right down to my cock.
This girl smells so fucking sexy.
I can’t help but wonder, If she smells that good, how does she taste?
Not the time to think about that. Unless you want your dick tased.
Three hours later, we’re four episodes in with no intention of stopping. Aside from it being four in the morning and our eyes getting heavier with each passing moment.
After a few more minutes, I look over to find her asleep. Her red hair all over my pillow. Her body is slightly on her side, facing me. She looks so fucking hot. Her flat stomach is showing. And those toned legs? Holy fuck, I’d love to have them wrapped around my waist as I fucked her against my wall.
Not wanting to be a creeper, I turn Netflix off and close my eyes. Within a few moments, I’m blissfully and comfortably pulled into a deep sleep. Probably the deepest sleep I’ve ever had.
I wake to the sound of a door shutting. Reaching next to me, I see Red is no longer there. Disappointment fills my gut, which is bizarre, and I need to snap the fuck out of it.
I always kick girls out after sex. Nicely, of course. Yet, last night, I didn’t even touch her, and she’s the one who ran off this morning, as if not wanting to wake me. Weird. Fucking weird.
If I were smart, I’d leave her alone now. A girl like her can hold her own. She could have the power to hurt me, just as I might with her. If I were smart, I’d go back to sleeping around with the jersey chasers. They are easy—literally. Oh, and they come with no strings attached.
That’s the thing though. I never said I was smart.
ten
Anna
The past few weeks have gone by in a flash. Between the jobs Cameran and I got at The Atlantic—a local pub and restaurant just off campus—and classes, I’ve been busy, to say the least.
I’ve seen Mason a few times, which is always nice. We’ve kept it strictly platonic. No sexy times. He needs to work to get into these panties and experience my magical lady parts.
Cameran and Trent are still very complicated. For a couple who has only kissed and fooled around once, they sure have a lot of drama. He showed up tonight at work while she was waitressing and threatened a table of little assholes who were being handsy. I watched the whole thing from my spot behind the bar. If I’m being completely honest, those little fuckers deserved the wrath of Trent Kade. Cameran, however, felt like he’d made another scene. And, well, he’s been known to do that.
So far, he beat the shit out of a guy when he almost assaulted her, punched a guy she was dancing with, and all but choked that little punk tonight. I see it as sort of romantic though. I’d say they are back to liking each other though, seeing as they just left hand in hand. That sort of makes me envy whatever the heck they have.
I make my way over to Mason. “Congratulations on your win tonight, hotshot. Want another beer?”
The games are always played over the TV at the bar, so I got to watch off and on all night. He was impressive.
He shakes his head. “Thanks, babe. And nah. A water is good. Hey, can you give me a ride home?”
Ignoring the way my stomach flip-flops when he calls me babe, I scowl. “Fuck no. You smell funny. It’s not a long walk though, so that’s good.”
He rolls his eyes. “You know I smell fucking delicious.”
Oh, yes, I do know. He smells so good that the scent alone turns me on just now. Making me clench my thighs to relieve some of the pressure building up.
“Fine. I’ll give your homely ass a ride.”
He winks. “Good girl.”
Something about the way he says that—good girl—is hot. I’m usually the one who wants to be in cont
rol in the bedroom. Yet with him being so muscular and sexy, I can’t help but want him to decide if I’m being a bad or good girl and then discipline me. A chill runs down my spine at the thought.
The last hour of work passes in a flash. Weekends at The Atlantic are nuts. This is my first bartending gig, but I have to say, I love it. I feel sort of like I’m in Coyote Ugly. Minus the dancing on the bar. Although, believe me, I’m that girl who would totally be up on that bar, shaking my ass without batting an eye.
After wiping down the counter one more time, I clock out and grab my bag. Mason’s still sitting in the same spot at the bar, only he’s all by himself now, playing on his phone.
“Ready?” I ask when I get close enough.
He looks up. “Yep. Let’s ride, hot stuff.”
Mason
Tonight’s game was basically a cakewalk. Not to sound cocky, but it’s just the way it is. We’ll no doubt face teams this season that will give us a run for our money and make us work our asses off to come out on top. But we’ll do it. Because all of us wants this that fucking badly.
The game we had earlier this week was one of those games. We went in, underestimating our opponent. That was our first mistake. Trent and Coach have drilled it into our heads time and time again to go into each game like we’re the underdog. Yet we got too cocky and almost blew it.
This game, no way were we going to take that chance. We came out on that field and went balls to the wall and never stopped.
A win where I ran in most all of our touchdowns, and I get to end the night, looking at Red’s sexy face? I’ll take it. Not that I could have gotten those touchdowns without my teammates. I couldn’t have.
Waiting for her to finish her shift, I scroll through Instagram. So many jersey chasers sending friend requests and sliding into my DMs, as they say. It gets old. That’s what’s so refreshing about Anna. She sure as fuck doesn’t chase me and offer her body in order to say she’s fucked Mason King. In fact, when I joke about having sex, she basically tells me to fuck my couch. It hurts my ego slightly, but it’s a hell of a lot better than having a girl offer to suck my dick just to tell her friends she did.
I have to ask myself, if I wasn’t Mason King, New England University’s wide receiver and projected player to be drafted first round in the NFL draft come this spring, who would be trying to fuck me just to say they did? It’s hard to know when someone’s intentions are true or when they are after you because of the name on your back come game night.
“Ready?” Red’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
Jumping off the stool, I throw my arm around her shoulders. “Yep. Let’s ride, hot stuff.”
We head out to her Jeep, and I climb in the passenger side. I’m a truck guy, but her Jeep with its off-road tires and tinted windows is pretty badass. Making her stand out that much more from the other chicks.
The ride to my place is filled with our usual banter. We argue over whether or not Carole Baskin killed her husband and where she could have hidden the body. Tiger King has sort of become our obsession. Even though it’s the weirdest shit I have ever seen in my life, making me wonder if it’s killing my brain cells with each episode.
“All I’m saying is, homegirl isn’t stupid. Them bones will never be found. In fact, maybe I should talk to her for advice if my future husband ever cheats. Get a few big cats, rub some steaks on his sneakers, and then say, Oh, honey, your turn to feed the tigers. Easy-peasy, man.”
I stare at her. “Yeah … maybe you should drop me off here,” I deadpan.
“Oh, please. If I didn’t have your beloved brother eaten by a giant kitty, I won’t have you either. Just don’t piss me off.” She gives me her best evil laugh.
That’s the first time she’s ever mentioned Maverick in front of me. I’ve never pushed the subject because, well, I don’t want to hear about the girl I’m jacking off to on a daily basis being with my douche-bag secret brother.
I decide to push for some details. “Yeah, about that, what happened?”
She glances at me, surprised. “You really don’t talk to your brother, do you?”
I shrug. “I’d barely call us brothers. We happen to have the same dad. But that’s about as far as it goes.” It’s true. It doesn’t feel like we’re brothers to me.
Trent and Lane? Those are my brothers.
“Well, you see, I walked in on my roommate riding his cock like it was her job, and yeah … I didn’t see a point in trying to work it out. Though honestly, he didn’t seem fazed.”
It’s clear the story hurts her to tell. Even if she is trying to make light of the situation with humor. That’s my thing, so I know exactly what she’s up to.
“Jesus. That sucks. I’m sorry. What a dick move on his part. But your friend? What a bitch. Do you talk to her still?”
I thought Maverick was head over balls for her. In fact, he always seemed more into it than she did, from an outsider’s view anyway.
“No, I don’t speak to her. Eh, it is what it is. My mom wanted me with Maverick more than I wanted to be with him. I knew I didn’t fit with his family.” She pulls into my driveway and puts the Jeep in park. She lightly smacks her forehead. “Your family too! Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
I hold my hand up and stop her. “No. They aren’t my family. Not really anyway.” I chuckle. “I certainly don’t fit either.”
She looks at me with a bit of sadness in her eyes. “Sorry to hear that. I, um … I know what that’s like. To not fit.”
I lean toward her and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. I feel her shiver at my touch. Which brings me great fucking joy. I think she’s feeling the sexual tension between us just as much as I am.
I hold her chin with my thumb. “Why’s that, beautiful?”
She sighs and leans into me. But that’s short-lived when she suddenly pulls back, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the way this conversation was headed. “Oh, nothing. I was just rambling. Well, I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
I’m not ready for this night to end. I’m not looking to have sex with her, but I don’t want to be alone either. “Actually, why don’t you come in? We can find a new Netflix show to binge-watch.”
She thinks for a moment and gives me a small smile. “All right, I guess. Hands to yourself, big guy.”
“Will that be my permanent nickname after we danced that night?” I joke. I know she felt my very hard dick against her very nice ass.
Her mouth hangs open.
Yep, Red, I went there. I love making this girl squirm because, honestly, it doesn’t seem like much makes her uncomfortable. Well, besides her feelings. And her family. I’ve noticed that seems to be a touchy subject too. I don’t push it because I get it.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I felt something that could be comparable to a baby carrot,” she says with an absolutely straight face.
I laugh hard. Because I know she’s full of shit. I’ve been with a lot of women. And I can say, they aren’t screaming my name over a baby carrot.
Ignoring her comment, I push my door open. “Come on, billy badass. Let’s go inside.”
eleven
Anna
The past few days have been a whirlwind. My roommate was tracked down by her stalker ex-boyfriend and shot. Yeah, that sucked. She’s in the hospital still, but she’s stable. And me? Well, it all freaked me out so bad that I’ve been staying with Mason the past few nights. It’s silly really. Because her ex is dead now, thanks to the police officer who shot him. But it just shook me up. And with Mason? I’ve found solace. He makes me feel safe and comfortable. Mason was wrestling around on the ground with the psychopath moments before the officer shot and killed him. I keep imagining it over again in my head. He was so close to being shot himself. The thought makes me feel physically sick. I haven’t known Mason long. However, imagining a world without him in it blows.
The craziest thing is, he offered me the spare bedroom. Part of me was offended t
hat he didn’t want me in his bed. But the other part was flattered that he was being so respectful. Luckily, it’s right across from his bedroom, so I feel safe. But nights like this? I think of him being in his boxers, and I want to go climb in bed with him and cuddle up—among other things.
Even though Maverick and he aren’t close, the last thing I want to do is drive a wedge in his family. I’m sure that would be weird—Mason and I dating and going to family events that Maverick was at. Rolling in like, Oh, hey, Mr. King. Yep … I can now compare your sons in bed. Holy awkward.
Yeah, no, thanks. My own family is fucked up enough.
Mason throws the spare bedroom door open and struts in. Shirtless, of course. My mouth salivates at the sight. His sweatpants hang dangerously low on his hips. Showing those perfect lines that lead to … ahem, yeah, there.
I look at his face to see his eyes fixed on my chest. Looking down, I groan inwardly. Yep, I forgot that I am not wearing a bra under this skimpy tank top, and my girls totally just gave away how much he turns me on. As if a guy like him needs any more confidence. I can’t help but to roll my eyes when I see his knowing smirk.
Pulling my hoodie over my head, I shrug. “What are you looking at? It’s drafty in here, Baby Carrot.” That will forever be my nickname for him. Even though, let’s be real, his package is anything but a baby carrot. It’s beautifully … large. More like an eggplant or some shit, but I like to bust his balls anyway.
He jumps on the bed next to me, landing on his stomach, his face a few inches from my thigh. “Yeah, sure, Red. Whatever you say. No judgment here over the deer-in-the-headlights thing you have going on.”
Oh no, he didn’t. I’ve let Trent get away with it. But more because he has his own issues with Cam.