by Hannah Gray
“I hated all football players. They get away with being sleazeballs. You sleep with the entire campus.” She stops and laughs so hard that she sounds like a crazy person. “Oh, besides me.” She sighs. “You literally sleep with everyone, Lane Rivers. And you turned me down. Do you have any idea what that does to a girl’s self-esteem?”
I wish I could tell her the truth. The truth that I only sleep with people I don’t see a future with. I can’t sleep with her. If I did, I’d never want to stop. And as much as a future with Memphis sounds great, she deserves better than me. Besides, if I told her about my past, she’d just get freaked out and leave anyway, and I wouldn’t blame her. What’s the point in starting that flame if I know it’s going to be put out?
“Shh. I’m going to get you home. Okay?”
“Pfft. You can’t even answer me about it because you can’t stand me that much. Or are you just that unattracted to me?”
I shake my head, and my eyes narrow. “It isn’t like that, Memphis. It isn’t like that at all.”
“Well then, wha—” she starts to ask when a voice comes from behind us.
“What the hell do you think you are doing, asshat?”
I turn to see the blonde who I know is Memphis’s roommate and best friend. I think her name is Ava.
“I’m taking her home. She’s hammered. She’s never been drunk before or even had a drink for that matter. She doesn’t need to be inside there with all of those vultures lurking.”
Her angry features soften slightly as she shifts her eyes to Memphis. “He knows you have never had a drink before?”
Memphis only shrugs. “So?”
“Girl, you never tell anyone that. You always say it’s too hard to explain why a college girl has never had a sip of alcohol.” Pointing toward me, she looks surprised. “Yet you told him?”
Holding my hands out, I tip my chin up at her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, killer. Why do you say him like I’m some awful person? You don’t even know me.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. She just usually doesn’t tell anyone anything personal about herself.” She chuckles. “Well, aside from me, I guess.”
“I’m taking her home,” I answer. “If you need a ride too, that’s fine, but she’s going home before she gets the spins or pukes.” Or worse, blacks out. The thought enters my brain, and I feel sick with the image of a blacked-out Memphis, swaying to the music inside as random guys notice her and form a plan.
Memphis interrupts before Ava answers, “You don’t have to come home yet, Aves. I know you planned to stay later with the other girls. I’ll be fine.”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m going home with you too.” And with that, she opens the back door of my truck and climbs in.
Well, this isn’t exactly how I thought my night would go.
Before I took them home, I drove through the drive-through and made them eat and drink something that wasn’t alcohol. Ava didn’t seem half as drunk as Memphis, so I figured she’d be fine. But the way Memphis was going, I could tell she was on her way to getting sick.
“Memphis, you going to be all right? Think I’ll head to bed. I’m super tired,” Ava says with a yawn.
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for a fun night.”
“Anytime, love. Night,” she says, turning toward her bedroom.
“Sleep good,” Memphis answers.
Before going inside of her room, she glances back. “Thanks for getting us home, Lane. It was appreciated.”
“No problem,” I answer.
Once she’s in her room, I turn to Memphis. “How are you feeling?”
She looks embarrassed. “I’m good, thanks. Much better after having some food.”
“Good.” I nod. “I’m glad. If you have some Tylenol, take them. You’ll have less of a headache in the morning.”
She walks into the kitchen area and opens a cupboard. Pulling out a bottle and opening it, she pops two pills in her mouth and grabs a cup of water. Once she’s done, she looks at me. “Thanks. Are you the king of hangovers or something?”
At her words, I look down for a moment before back up again. “You all set for the night? I think I’ll head home.”
Disappointment fills her face, but she covers it quickly with a weak smile. “Yep, all set. Thanks again.”
I begin to walk toward the door but turn back to find her behind me. “You’re welcome. But next time, just … be careful. Okay?”
She nods slowly. “I will.”
Before I realize what I’m doing, I pull her into my chest. The scent of cinnamon sugar fills my nose. Her body melts into mine, and we stand there, holding each other.
I murmur against her hair, “Memphis?”
“Mmhmm?”
“Did you really get drunk to forget about me?” Ache fills my gut.
She seemed so sure that night when she said she had no interest in drinking. Not that I think drinking is a big deal—obviously—but I don’t want to be the reason why someone changes who they are.
I feel her body tense against mine.
I feel her small shoulders sag lower.
“That was part of it. And I get it; it’s weird.”
“It isn’t weird. I’m just … surprised.”
A sad laugh escapes her. “Trust me, I am too.” She steps back, looking up at me. “I don’t understand it myself. I just … felt something … for you.”
Needing to escape her eyes, eyes that could bring me to my knees, I glance up at the ceiling before looking at her again. “You can’t feel something for me, Memphis.” Kissing the top of her head, I shake my head somberly. “I’m sorry. You just can’t.”
Her eyes burn into mine, pulling me in, making me forget that I need to be strong, that I need to stand my ground and push her away.
“Too late,” she answers before standing on her tippy-toes and pressing a kiss to my neck, followed by another and another.
My dick strains in my pants. But I must. Stay. Strong.
Taking a step back, I hold my hands up. “Whoa, what are you doing? I can’t—we can’t do this.”
“Do what?” she says softly, fluttering her lashes at me before bending down. She slowly peels her jeans off, revealing a black thong.
It’s clear with my life choices that I am not one who has much self-control. This girl, she’s killing me slowly. It’s becoming harder to justify why I must keep her at arm’s length.
“Memphis, stop,” I plead.
She holds all of the power, and she has no idea. She might as well have me up on a string, controlling my movements.
Reaching down, she pulls her shirt over her head. Exposing a matching black lace bra.
“Or else what, Lane? Are you going to leave?” Her eyes continue to stare into mine. Eyes that are usually as blue as the Caribbean Sea are now as dark as a raging storm. The kind of storm that moves with vengeance. And leaves nothing but destruction behind once it’s gone.
When I don’t answer, she turns in a slow circle, showing me every single inch of her delectable skin. Her ass is one of the most perfect things I have seen in my entire life.
Walking up to me again, she leans up and says against my ear, “Are you going to leave, Lane?”
My breathing is shallow. I’m pissed at myself for being so weak. I glare at her. “I should.”
This girl is testing me with everything she is. She has no idea how difficult she’s making it for me to say no. And she doesn’t know how hard I’ve tried to stay away. All for her to flaunt herself in front of me, making it next to impossible to say no.
“Take it out on me,” she says at almost a whisper.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Whatever it is, take it out on me,” she pleads. “Please, Lane.”
My chest rises and falls, and abruptly, I’m angry. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“No, I don’t,” she answers honestly. “But I want to.”
If only she knew what bothered me, she su
rely wouldn’t be offering herself to me so freely. She’d be running for the hills if she were smart. And I know her enough to know that she is.
I back up toward the door. “I should go.”
When she reaches behind her, I know what she’s about to do, and I can’t even stop her. In one swift move, her bra drops to the floor, revealing beautiful, perky tits.
I know I should go before we do something that will change everything. I should run out the door and jump in my truck. I should go the hell home and lock myself inside my room before I do any further damage. Fuck, I should. But damn it, if she doesn’t make it next to impossible with her angelic face and sexy body. Not to mention, those eyes that demand what they want and those perfect, plump lips—I have too many ideas of what I’d like to do with them running through my head.
But when she steps in front of me, tugging at the hem of my shirt, fuck if every ounce of self-control leaves my body. She’s not taking no for an answer. And honestly, I’m not sure no is an answer I want to tell her anymore.
When she pulls my shirt upward, her eyes lock with mine with an unspoken message. For some reason, she needs this. And even though it’s probably a bad idea and she will undoubtedly end up getting hurt, I know I’m about to give her what she wants.
After helping her get my shirt off, I pick her up. She eagerly wraps her legs around my waist and attacks my lips.
As I walk us toward her room, her breasts press against my chest while our mouths move together.
Soft, sexy moans escape her throat, driving me wild.
Holding her up with one arm, I shut her door behind us and gently toss her on the bed. “Memphis, are you still drunk?”
She gazes up at me with her big blue eyes, not an ounce of hesitation in them. “Not at all, I promise. I sobered up quickly after our talk and the food.” She sees my unconvinced expression. “I swear it, Lane.”
I eye her over. She certainly doesn’t seem drunk anymore or even buzzed.
“You need to tell me,” I say, dipping my chin down.
Licking her plump lips, she looks confused. “Tell you what?”
“What you want.”
“You,” she answers thoughtfully.
I shake my head. “I can only give you this,” I say, motioning between us. “That’s all I have to give, Memphis.”
She visibly swallows. But she finally answers, “Then, I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever you give me.”
“It won’t change though. So, if you’re expecting Prince Charming, I should leave right now.”
She shakes her head. “It’s okay. I promise. I just want you this way.”
I’ve given her multiple warnings, and she’s still begging me to stay.
“I don’t have a condom.”
Reaching into her drawer, she grabs one. “I do.” With shaky hands, she passes it to me.
Setting it aside, I remove her thong. My breath gets caught in my throat at the incredibly sexy image.
My fingers find her sweet spot, and slowly, I push them inside of her. She’s unbelievably tight. I know I should stop now before it goes any further, but I can’t. The only thing I can do is give this girl what she’s asking for. Even if I know it’s going to break her fucking heart.
Memphis
It’s painful; I won’t lie about that. And that’s only his fingers. But I know if I tell him I’m a virgin, he’ll leave here so fast that there would be a path of fire behind him. First of all, it would make him think I’m a weirdo. Secondly, he would think I’m a stage-five clinger.
Thank goodness Ava has always been a weirdo and put just in case condoms in my dresser. Otherwise, this probably wouldn’t be happening right now.
Reaching between us, I tug his boxers as far as I can, leaving him to take them the rest of the way off.
He springs free, and I find myself wide-eyed, gazing at what is soon going to be inside of me.
Holy shit. He’s going to break my vagina with that.
Honestly, I don’t even recognize myself right now. I basically told him to give me table scraps and that I’d gladly take them. I know I sound pathetic, but being around him, it does things to me. I can’t explain the need I feel for him. I’ve never been this girl before. I don’t beg, and I sure as hell don’t tell a guy to “take it out on me.”
Inwardly cringing right now.
But when it comes to Lane, I do want whatever he’ll give me. In my naive brain, maybe I am convincing myself that if we have sex and it’s some magical connection, he’ll want to see where things go. Even if that makes me sound like a loser. I want to help him. And I want him to help me.
Forcing myself further outside of my comfort zone, I reach down and graze my hand over his length. A hiss escapes his lips, and his hips move, pushing against my hand. Wrapping my hand around him, I pump gently, not knowing what the hell I’m doing but trying my darnedest to not let him see how inexperienced I truly am.
Releasing him, I press my body against his, letting him know I’m ready for this, that I want it. Desperately.
He watches me softly, asking the silent question of if I’m sure. I nod and smile, letting him know that I am.
He grabs the condom and slides it over his length. Nudging his knee between my legs, he parts them before slowly pushing himself to the spot that has never been explored before. I’m sure that I want him this way. But I’m really freaking nervous.
As he pushes in further and further, I bite my lip to mask the pain. Tears burn in the backs of my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. If I do, he’ll feel like an asshole for not knowing, and then he’ll stop. And for reasons even I don’t understand, I need this. I need it like my next breath.
Even through the pain, I’m still so incredibly turned on. I don’t want this to end.
Once he’s completely inside of me, he still takes it slow, almost as if he knows that this is my first time. Even though he doesn’t. After our few short times together, I know him enough to know if he did, he wouldn’t have agreed to this.
Pushing himself up, he gazes down at me. “You are beautiful,” he says before thrusting again.
The more he moves, the more the pain dulls, leaving behind something amazing.
Leaning down, he presses his lips to mine before moving to my neck. “So beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin.
He brings me to an even higher place, as if I were floating in the great nothing. Everything inside of me begins to let go, washing over my entire body.
Every cell, fiber, and nerve ending comes alive. And it’s almost too much.
His pace picks up slightly, bringing back that dull pain again. Only I’m too close to care or to really even feel it fully.
“Memphis, I’m—”
“Me too. Me too,” I cry out at him, letting him know I’m right there with him.
He groans, telling me know he’s as close as I am. And even though it’s my first time, there’s just something magical about experiencing this high together.
Within seconds, we’re both gripping each other’s skin tightly, moaning and crying out before collapsing against each other, trying to catch our breath.
He withdraws and then turns to his side, pulling me to his chest. “Jesus Christ, Memphis,” he growls. “That was incredible.”
“Yeah?” I ask, satisfied with his words. Yet I’m still self-conscious because this is all so new. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. And I’m sure the other women he’s been with did things. All I really could do was lie there.
Stroking his fingers up and down my arm, he breathes out a laugh. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“Good. Because I’m almost ready to do it again,” I answer. Even though I’m not. I’ll probably barely be able to walk tomorrow. I can already feel the soreness coming on.
He stiffens beneath me, and I know then that I have made him uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have said anything about doing it again, knowing how skittish he is.
That makes me wonder, Why is he so set on this
not developing into anything? Why does it sound like he doesn’t think he can ever love or be loved?
Before he can think of a reason to go, I look up at him. “Lane, I’m not dumb. I know you aren’t interested in me in that way. But whatever this is”—I motion between us—“I need more of it. I’ve locked myself up in a tiny box of being responsible, overthinking, not experiencing things that seemed irresponsible. I need to live a little, and you make me want to do that. It’s obvious that you aren’t looking to get serious, and that’s fine. But I want to be reckless. And I want to be reckless with you. Even if it’s just for a short while.”
One part of me really does just want to have a relationship with Lane where we use each other physically. I haven’t felt this alive since, well, ever. I want to feel alive. Hell, I want to be alive.
But the other part of me knows that I have already developed feelings for this man. Feelings that will likely grow from a small sprout to an entire freaking garden. I know that if I do this with him, I will fall hard for Lane Rivers. And I know my heart will get shattered into a million minuscule pieces.
But one expression I’m finally starting to understand is, The heart was meant to be broken. I need to allow myself to get hurt, to be vulnerable, to mess up. And I want Lane to be the guy to do it. Now, I only need him to agree.
thirty-two
Lane
I listen to the sound of her soft snores as she sleeps, her dark-as-night hair flowing down her back in a silky waterfall.
Her words filtrate through my mind over and over. “I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever you give me.” Her eyes pleaded with me as she said them.
A girl like her doesn’t sleep around. She wouldn’t just give herself to someone for the hell of it. I know that look in her eye, and it scares me. She’s feeling things for me that she shouldn’t be. Call me a selfish bastard though because I couldn’t tell her no. Not just because I knew it would hurt her feelings if I pushed her away, but also because I wanted her just as badly as she did me.
She shocked me to my core when she peeled her clothes off, exposing her gorgeous body. But once we got to her room, I could tell she was nervous. Hell, I’m known as the campus slut, and I was nervous. It was different with her, and that’s what terrifies me. I haven’t felt what it’s like to want someone—to really want them—for years, and now that I’ve felt it, fuck, I wish I could push it down so deep that it never comes back up.