Living at the Frat House

by Wylder, Penny

  For a second, I’m tempted to reach down and touch myself, but… He’s right there.

  Malcolm’s hand moves over his cock, and in the dim light I can see the slick shine of lotion on his skin. I flush hot, suddenly realizing that he left the light on on purpose so that I could watch him. Like he knew that I would want to.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, hand fisting over his shaft in a slow, even rhythm. His abs tense and release as he moves, biceps bulging in his arm as he moves. His hips thrust upwards, fucking his own hand, and I’ve never seen anything so erotic.

  If this is what porn was like, I would watch it every single day.

  My nipples harden under my dress, and there are chills running over my body even though I’m buried under a blanket. I can feel the slickness between my legs and that rare feeling of complete arousal that I’ve only had a couple of times in my life.

  Malcolm’s eyes are shut, lips parted in concentration and pleasure as he moves. I want to know what he’s thinking, and my mind immediately wonders if he’s picturing me. Fantasizing about me right now while he touches himself. I want it to be me, even if the thought is embarrassing. The thought of being the object of fantasy for someone as gorgeous as Malcolm makes the heat running through me burn even hotter.

  He moans, soft and vulnerable, pure pleasure that’s made for only him, and I swear that I’m going to spontaneously combust. I can’t take my eyes off his hand, stroking that gorgeous, perfect, cock. I never thought that I would think of a penis as gorgeous, but his is. Perfectly shaped. Hell, he could model for sex shops, or star on a porn cover if he wanted to.

  I desperately want to know what it feels like, how it would feel to place my hands where his are right now.

  I hate that I want to know. But that doesn’t lessen the desperation that I feel. Wrapping the blanket tighter around me, I resist the pull toward him. If I climbed into his bed right now, I know that he wouldn’t say no. In fact, he’d give me everything that he said that he would and more.

  But I can’t.

  I can’t give in to that.

  Malcolm sucks in a breath, hand suddenly moving in a frenzy. He bites his lip, every muscle going taught and he groans loudly. My heart is pounding, and I don’t dare move to distract him or make the ache between my legs lessen.

  He comes over his hand, cum dripping, and I want to know what he tastes like. The thought is so raw and deep that it shocks me.

  That’s not what I’m supposed to want. Girls aren’t supposed to want to swallow, right? But in this moment I’ve never wanted anything so badly than to find out what Malcolm Levar’s cum tastes like.

  They must have spiked the water with something. There must be something in the air, because this can’t be me. I can’t want this man that’s blackmailing me into being his personal servant because of an accident.

  But the ache in my pussy is so real that I feel like I’m falling into a haze of need and desperation. My mind goes red with desire, and I can’t focus on anything beyond sheer want.

  In the mirror, Malcolm cleans himself off with a tissue and tosses it into the trash before he stands and strips off the sweatpants entirely. It seems like a last-minute decision, but it exposes his entire perfect ass to me, and if I wasn’t hot before, I am now. Holy fuck. How is it possible that a complete stranger can make me feel this way? Was the kiss really that good? Has it been that long since I’ve had any kind of sex?

  This is impossible.

  Malcolm climbs under the covers and turns out the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. It’s a relief. But now I’m wide awake, my body singing with need.

  Slowly, I shift onto my back, listening in the dark to Malcolm’s breathing. I wait for what seems like hours, until his breath is deep and slow. Every move is laced with fear that he’s going to wake up and catch me, but I can’t resist. If I don’t find relief my heart is going to keep pounding and I’ll be exhausted when I wake up. I pull the already short skirt of my dress up past my hips and widen my legs just enough for me to reach between my thighs.

  I don’t move anything but my fingers, seeking pleasure. I’m so hot and so wet that my fingers skim over my clit, barely able to find traction enough to get the build I need. My own breath is loud in my ears, but I can still hear his breathing and it’s smooth and even. I’m safe.

  Without me telling it to, my mind calls up image after image. Me, tasting Malcolm’s cock. Him laying me down on the bed and pushing my thighs apart before feasting on me. Him fucking me the way that he described. Us tangled together. It’s all so good and I can’t stop the images from popping up.

  Pleasure arrives sharp and fast, far faster than I’ve ever managed to get myself off before. I press my lips together so that I don’t make any fucking sound. The last thing that I need is Malcolm knowing that he turned me on enough that I would touch myself while he was sleeping.

  My orgasm rushes through my brain, sweeping in relief and pleasure and thank fucking god.

  I think it might be the best orgasm that I’ve ever had, and that’s both amazing and infuriating. How could just thinking about someone like that be the best that I’ve ever had?

  As soon as the pleasure fades, the exhaustion hits again. All the adrenaline from breaking the vase, dealing with Malcolm, and completing the dare at all. But my body is now relaxed, sleep coming quickly.

  In the morning, when I’m able to think more clearly, maybe I can get out of this. Because one thing’s for sure. If this is what one night in Malcolm Levar’s presence is like, then I’ll never survive the entire school year.

  5

  Juno

  The alarm on my phone jars me out of my dream and I sit straight up. Where the hell am I? What am I doing on the floor?

  Everything quickly comes rushing back, along with the fact that I had just been dreaming about Malcolm. My dream had been at once tame, and extremely erotic, and as I rolled over to stare at the ceiling, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

  I had been walking. Just walking across the campus, when he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a nearby grouping of trees. Before I had even fully registered that it was him, he was kissing me.

  But it was him. And he was smiling in a completely genuine and devastating way. I hadn’t seen that smile in real life, my mind was imagining what could be. And that dream kiss…it was even better than our actual kiss. It felt like he had been kissing the entirety of my body and soul. Pulling us together so that we would never be apart.

  The kiss in the dream was pure fire and arousal and romance.

  Which, of course, is the furthest thing from reality.

  I sit up and run my hand through my hair. It’s a mess from sleeping on the floor, and I’m a little dizzy. But I’m awake and I have enough time to get to class. That’s the most important thing. I grab my phone and shimmy the dress back down my hips before I stand up.

  Malcolm is sprawled out on his bed, face down, the blankets slipping down far enough to show off that absolutely stellar ass. I can’t seem to keep my eyes off him.

  There’s no way in hell I should be attracted to him, but I am. I think most people would be, but most people also didn’t break a priceless heirloom and sell off their entire freshman year as payment for it.

  Will I even be able to pledge to the Tri Deltas while living here? I suppose it would still be possible. Freshmen generally didn’t live in the Greek houses here.

  I look at Malcolm for a second more before grabbing my purse and heels and creeping out the door. He doesn’t even move, thank goodness. Malcolm at his fiercest like last night was one thing. Sleepy, mussed Malcolm would be an entirely different beast.

  Checking my phone, I realize I need to move my ass. I’ve only got a half an hour before I need to be in class, and I’m not going to bio lab in this dress. There’s about a million texts from Bailey, but I don’t have time to answer them all. I quickly tap out a text to her saying that I’m stopping by our room and I’ll see her at lunch. She has an early class too, so s
he won’t be there.

  I’m almost to the dorm when I hear a sharp whistle that I somehow know is aimed at me. I turn and see Taylor grinning at me from across the quad. “Walk of shame?”

  I roll my eyes. “Definitely not what you think. I’ll tell you about it at lunch!” That’s all the time I have to spare. I slam into our room, glad that Bailey isn’t there to pester me with questions as I shed the stupid dress and throw on jeans and a t-shirt and grab my book bag—which I packed yesterday. It takes me less than five minutes before I’m out the door and I make it into lab with two minutes to spare.

  After everything that happened, I’ll take it. Right now, Malcolm Levar doesn’t exist. Bailey and Taylor don’t exist. Nothing matters or exists except me and this class: the first class of my nutrition major.

  Honestly, not much happens. It’s syllabus day, and as much as I’m looking forward to all my classes, it’s a little relieving to know that I don’t have to focus too much. Because there’s going to be a lot to deal with. I need to pack my stuff to go to Granite House. I need to break the news to everyone that I actually will be staying there. I need to tell the school that I’m moving off campus and find out if I can get a refund on my housing deposit.

  I have an elective English class after my lab, and my first anatomy class after that. I blocked my classes together in the morning so that I could have my afternoons free to study. I’m going to have to study a lot in order to keep my grades up for the scholarship that I have.

  But now that the three classes are over, my stomach is trying to eat itself. I barely ate dinner in preparation for last night’s party and I obviously didn’t eat breakfast. I text Bailey and Taylor to arrange a spot to meet and head to the cafeteria. As much as I want food, I’m not looking forward to it. I’m going to have to tell them what happened, and Taylor’s going to make fun of me like she always does. Bailey will try to be sympathetic but also be pissed that I’m abandoning her and all the plans that we had as roommates this year.

  God, it’s a fucking mess.

  I grab my food before I even get to the table. I know that once I sit down, odds are that they’re not going to let me leave until they know every detail. So I need to be prepared for that.

  I end up with a big bowl of cereal. It’s comfort food for me, and fuck do I need it right now. I’m going to be a nutritionist, and I don’t condone eating a huge bowl of sugar for lunch, but today calls for a little breaking of the rules. Everything in moderation, including moderation.

  Taylor grins when she sees me, and it’s the same smile that she had on her face this morning when she saw me in the dress. “You looked like hell this morning.”

  “Of course I did, I slept in a strange house in a party dress,” I say. “I couldn’t exactly turn up on their doorstep with an overnight bag.”

  Bailey laughs. “With that dress, you might have actually been able to pull that off.”

  “I highly doubt it,” I say, digging into my cereal.

  “Seriously?” Bailey says. “That’s all you’re going to give me? After you ignored my texts and everything?”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m starving, Bai. Let me at least get a few bites in before you interrogate me.”

  Slowly, she lets me take three bits while Taylor is laughing before pouncing. “Okay, tell me how it went.”

  What the hell am I going to say exactly? That it went both way better and way worse than expected? That I tried to do exactly what I was dared to do and I fucked it up so badly that my entire plans have changed for the year?

  “Well.” I clear my throat. “It was…interesting.”

  “I think you might have had more fun than you want to admit,” Taylor says with a snide grin. “Maybe the famous Juno is a party girl after all.”

  “I am not.” I say, glaring across the table at her. One night in a party house does not make me a party girl, even if Taylor wishes that it did.

  She raises her hands in surrender. “Sorry, geeze.”

  “Just run through the night, Juno.”

  I clear my throat. “Well, after I got there, I kind of barged into the middle of a poker game and asked to be let into the house.”

  Taylor chokes on her drink. “Wow. I would have gone with something more subtle.”

  “I was tired of every guy I ran into practically devouring me with their eyes, so I wanted to get it over with.”

  “And?” Bailey asks.

  “And it was easier than I thought it would be,” I lie. “They thought I had balls to ask, and they had room, so after a little conversation, they said yes.”

  “Holy shit,” Bailey says leaning back. “I mean…I really thought you were going to have to get on your knees and beg them.”

  “Based on the way that she looked this morning, it definitely looked like she had been on her knees,” Taylor says.

  “Jesus, Taylor,” I say. “I had to sleep on the floor because they’re rearranging stuff. You don’t have to be so crude all the time.”

  “I know,” she smirks. “I like to be, though. And I’ve seen the head of Granite House. Believe me when I say I wouldn’t be judging you if you said that you’d gotten on your knees for that.”

  “Well I didn’t.”

  I leave out the fact that I had desperately wanted to, and went so far as masturbating after he went to sleep. Or the fact that I dreamed about him. God, I need a shower. I feel like he’s still all over me, that kiss and his gaze.

  “So,” Bailey says. “Did you get the proof?”

  I shake my head, deciding that I’m not going to tell them about the vase. At least not right away. “They didn’t let me go wandering around the house. They gave me a tour and kind of stuck by my side, so I didn’t have a chance. But I’ll get it.”

  Bailey frowns. “What do you mean. You’re going back?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But that wasn’t part of the dare,” she says. “It was for one night and to get out.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know…everyone was really nice.”

  Taylor leans over the table, eyes suddenly intense. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  I just look at her.

  “You’re going to live in Granite House?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What the fuck?” Bailey blinks. “Why would you do that? We already have a room. We have plans.”

  I wince. “I know. But they offered me my own room, and it’s huge, and that means a lot of dedicated study time. You know I love you, Bai, but you also know that you snore.”

  She frowns, but she can’t exactly argue with that. We’ve all known each other for way too long, and we all know that Bailey snores big time. It doesn’t bother me, since it can be taken care of with headphones, but I need the excuse. I don’t want them to know that I’m being blackmailed by Malcolm. It would be embarrassing no matter what, but something about it being for the sake of a dare makes it even worse.

  “Well,” Bailey says. “Okay. I guess that’s good for you, though I don’t really think that you’ll be happy living with a bunch of guys.”

  “We’ll room together next year in the Tri Delta house,” I say. “Promise.”

  “You’re still pledging?” Taylor asks. “How?”

  “Granite House isn’t a real fraternity. It’s not like they can stop me.”

  She looks a little stunned. “Yeah, I guess not.”

  Neither of them look like they can believe my lie, and maybe they don’t. But I can’t worry about that right now, there’s too much to do. And besides, I can’t tell them the truth: that the dare that I agreed to basically forced me to sell myself to a man who gets under my skin way, way too easily.

  “Speaking of study time,” I say, “I already have reading. So I’m going to head over to the library. Will I see you guys for dinner?”

  “Yeah,” Bailey says, a little sadly. “Sure.”

  Taylor says nothing as I gather my dishes, but she doesn’t exactly look happy either. I’m going to have
to find a way to make it up to them. Taylor and I have had our differences, but she’s still my friend. And Bailey is my best friend. She’s saved my ass more times than I can count, and if I tell her the truth, maybe she could help.

  But more likely, not. Not when Malcolm’s dad is the chancellor of the fucking school. Granted, I never checked his story. I dump my dishes and leave the cafeteria, heading to student services. I need to talk to them about my housing.

  And while I go, I pull up the school website on my phone. Sure enough, Joseph Levar is listed as the chancellor. And he looks exactly like an older version of Malcolm would look: handsome for his age, and you could tell in his prime that he was gorgeous.

  I am totally and monumentally screwed now. There’s no way out of this. All I can hope now is to make the best of it. I came to this school with goals, and where I sleep will not change those goals a fraction. I still have the library to study, even if I’m sleeping on Malcolm’s floor.

  I may be his personal plaything, and he may think that he’s able to boss me around, but I’m not going to let anything get in the way of why I’m here. I met Malcolm Levar, but Malcolm Levar hasn’t met me.

  Not yet.

  6

  Malcolm

  The minute that my door closes after Juno leaves, my eyes are open. I’m a light sleeper, and the minute that her alarm went off, I was awake, and I was hard. Hard from the dreams that I had about her underneath me making those sounds, and hard from the memory of her breath last night.

  She thought I was asleep because I let her think it. After I scandalized her by coming in front of her, I evened out my breathing and made her think that I had faded down into sleep, but I hadn’t. I wanted to see if she would sneak out of the house after I slept.

  I never imagined that I would hear the rustling of fabric that the faintest sigh of breath. Even though I had already come, I was instantly turned on again.

  Juno was incredibly beautiful, with her thick dark hair and curves and a dress that clearly wasn’t hers. And lips that melted against mine in the most perfect way imaginable. I craved the way that she blushed, and the way she had looked at me naked. I saw her watching me in the mirror, even though she didn’t think I did.