I slip off my clothes, except for my white and blue plaid boxers, and my cock betrays me. King Richard is standing at full salute. Maisy immediately sees it and inhales sharply at the sight. There’s no point in hiding him now. When erect, he’s a solid eight inches long and very thick. If my plans to run The Echelon Group fall through, I’m going to become a dildo model.
“What are you doing?” she asks, sounding terrified as she continues to stare at my crotch. I make him twitch and she darts her gaze to the other side of the room. It makes me chuckle.
“Going to bed,” I reply. “What are you doing?”
“With that?” She motions toward my junk and her eyes are back on it.
“Well I can’t detach him. He’s my best friend,” I reply as I shove my hand in my boxers and give him a little stroke. I really do love him.
“Stop that!” she commands with a giggle.
“What? I was just trying to take him apart and put him away.” I tilt my head to the side and smile coyly at her.
She bursts out laughing in her deep belly laugh that sings in my ears. I love that sound.
I pull my black comforter back and crawl in bed. What am I going to do with this massive hard-on? I flick the comforter open on her side and she slides in next me. As she does, my shirt rides up her thighs and I can see baby blue lace boy shorts. My balls twitch and shoot up into my stomach. It’s gonna be a long night, King Richard.
Chapter 19: Maisy
October
I stretch and yawn. I slept fucking fantastic and I wake up to the smell of cologne and soap again. The smell of Donovan. My head is laying on a rock-hard chest and I have two tattooed tree-trunk-sized arms wrapped around my body.
The past few weeks have flown by. I’m curled up with Donovan Blake for the eighth time. Not that I’m counting.
I unravel myself from his body and sneak into the bathroom. I check my phone and I have messages from Bates again. He’s been texting me a lot the past few weeks. Ever since Donovan texted him from phone during our first tutoring session, he won’t let it go. Texting Bates makes me think about the ocean and how much I’ve missed it over the last two months. This is the longest I’ve gone without being in the water.
“Sorry, bro. Got done late and I was tired. I crashed. I will call you later.” Not a total lie I justify my response to myself. I’ve spouted off all kinds of excuses for never calling him, and I’m running out of them.
Millie texted and wanted to know where I was again. I can’t keep avoiding her. I’ve slept over at Donovan’s after every tutoring session. We’re making a habit of this, and Millie isn’t stupid. She’ll put two and two together if she hasn’t already. I never come home on the nights I tutor. I need to tell her at some point, even though everything has been platonic.
Bella and Gemma also texted about our shopping trip today after class. We’re supposed to head into Boston, to Newberry Street. Not that I can afford anything there, but I like having friends. We’ve gone out a few times and they come in to Holy Sip! while I’m working most nights to hang out and gossip.
They’re actually pretty decent for girls whose biggest dream is to marry a professional athlete. They’ve told me plenty about Blake and they can’t believe he hasn’t tried to hook up with me. Bella couldn’t stop talking about the size of his dick and the earth-shattering orgasm it gave her. Gemma is extremely jealous because Blake hasn’t tried to sleep with her yet. Those conversations make me uncomfortable. Thinking about Donovan sleeping around makes me fume with jealousy, and I don’t like that feeling at all.
But I know none of them has slept over at his house, and that makes me feel special. Like what we have is more.
“Still in. Text me where to meet you. Done with class at 2:30,” I reply.
“Maisy?” I hear Donovan call from the bedroom.
I crack the door open, “What?”
“You pooping?”
“Oh my God, Donovan! No!”
“What? Everyone does it.” He laughs at himself. He is sexiest when he’s carefree. When he’s not trying to portray the bad boy without a conscience. He’s quite fun, actually.
“I gotta go. I have class. I can’t believe you asked me if I was pooping.” I shake my head and start dressing. I bring a change of clothes with me to our tutoring sessions now. We stay up late talking and laughing every night. He’s such an amazing person, and is so much deeper than the public persona of Donovan Blake. And true to his word, he’s never tried to touch me, which makes me a little depressed lately. I’m the one vagina on this campus he hasn’t tried to slide into… besides Gemma’s, apparently.
He’s opened up more about his life and his family and his plans after college. He’s planning on declaring for the NFL draft, but his dad built an empire that he is expected to run one day. He hasn’t told his parents he wants to play football for a living, because he never sees them. His dad is always rushing off to a meeting somewhere, which he isn’t looking forward to, but he will do it if that’s what his dad wants. He will be a hard-ass CEO, just like George.
He’s still pushing for me to send my clothes to his mom’s team. He thinks Eleanor is in London this week, but she was flying all over the world for fashion shows, trade shows, and business meetings when he was growing up, so he stopped keeping track of where she is.
His parents are legacies here. I realized that when I went to the George and Eleanor Blake Library. It all clicked.
His sister, Mia, is a concern for him. She’s still in high school, but will be attending Cambria in the fall. She parties hard and he’s worried she’s spiraling. I’ve learned that he fiercely protects those he loves, and he’s only loved two people his whole life: Mia and his Grammy Charlotte.
He told me he has a trust fund that his Grammy started for him, but prides himself on not acting like the, and I quote, “trust fund pussies” he went to high school with. He lost his virginity at thirteen to a high school senior. She was a cheerleader and he said he lasted all of three minutes. He swears he’s gotten better, which made me laugh, knowing his reputation.
After about four sessions, I told him about my mom disappearing on us when I was four. He kept asking what my parents did, so needless to say he was shocked when I told him about my mom, but said he could relate. It actually felt freeing to tell him one of my secrets.
I told him all about Bates and how I lost my virginity to him during a dark period, but left out specific details about my dad. Donovan knows I’ve only had two intimate moments in my life, and both have been with him. He said he wants to castrate Bates because he took advantage of me during a vulnerable state. I tried to convince him that was unnecessary, because I have no desire to sleep with him again.
He also knows I’ve never had an orgasm or oral sex. Those little tidbits came out while we were discussing our virginity stories. I have no idea why I felt the need to tell him that. His response? He would have my knees shaking and my thighs trembling before I could count to thirty. Part of me wanted to accept the challenge, but I knew better. As much as my body craves him, I can’t get physical. Just sleeping over and talking with him is causing my heart and my head to battle.
I told him more stories about Kali, Monét and Ruby, our parties at Pete’s and about my jobs with Chet and the Surf Hut. He knows Pete is a solid dude who lets me use his gear so I can be on the water. I tried to explain how much the ocean means to me and how much I miss it, even though I love Cambria.
I feel like this relationship with Donovan is growing deeper with each night we’re together. There was something comforting about telling him about my mom. Therapeutic. I trust him when I don’t trust people in general. But I’m not ready to tell the son of a billionaire that I’m the destitute daughter of a drug smuggler. That is too much even for the unshakable Donovan Blake.
“See you later, Owl.” After all the things we have shared over the last few weeks, he still has not told me why he calls me Owl.
“Later, Donovan.”
Physical or not, I’m feeling something for him. Something I’ve never felt, and my connection with him is so strong I can feel it in my core, in bones, and even worse, in my heart. I’m falling for Donovan Blake, and falling hard.
Chapter 20: Donovan
As soon as Maisy leaves for class, my room feels empty. I always sleep so well when she stays over. I hadn’t been sleeping well for months thinking about her. But now that she is here with me, I feel so alive and refreshed. The bitch of it is that when she’s not here, I feel even more alone than I did before.
Being with Maisy is easy. She is so fucking amazing. Smart, beautiful, entertaining. I’ve never laughed so much in my entire life as I have with her. She’s bringing my soulless existence back to life and it is fucking terrifying.
I woke up at four this morning with her entangled around my body and her head on my chest, her soft breathing calm and peaceful. I didn’t dare move. I just listened to her and tried to match my breathing to hers while inhaling her beachy, coconut-scented hair and rubbing her back. If anyone else saw that scene, they would have thought I’d had a lobotomy, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never slept in the same bed as a woman in my entire life. Not even my own mother when I was a baby. I’ve never cuddled after having sex, let alone after not having sex.
I’m scared she’s going to break me before I can win this bet. Is she still a bet? Can I really do this to her? I’ve never spoken to my conscience before, and he has not shut up in the last couple weeks. I’m so undeserving of someone like her that it makes me sick to think about what’s going to happen.
After she left this morning, I counted down the hours until English Lit like I do most days when we have class. Usually I sit behind her and stare at her the whole class like a fucking stalker. Today I decided to say fuck it. I want to be next to her, always. I’m fucking addicted.
I slide into the seat right next to Maisy and she turns sharply from her conversation with English Fuck 1 to see who just bumped into her desk.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” she asks as she nudges me.
“I’m in this class, Owl. For a fucking genius, you’re not very bright,” I deadpan.
“You know that’s not what I meant. What are you doing sitting here… with us?” She gestures toward the two gawkers next to her.
“Well, I figure if you’re going to tutor me, we might as well maximize our time,” I reply. I wish lying didn’t come so naturally to me.
“Oh.” She pauses a split second. “Good idea.”
“Hi, Blake,” the curly-haired girl says.
I nod.
“You’re sitting here. For real? With us?” she continues and her face is one of shock and concern. “Can I get a selfie?” She glances around to see if everyone is staring at us. They are. I bet she feels popular for once. Whatever. Enjoy your fifteen seconds, hippie.
I get tired of people using me. It’s probably part of the reason I’m such a royal dick most of the time. People are constantly using me to up their image, for money, or for my connections.
“I’m sitting here with Maisy. You’re collateral damage,” I retort.
“Be nice,” Maisy scolds me and rests her hand on my arm, which surprisingly calms me down as a warmth spreads through my body.
“Fine. Be quick or I’ll change my mind,” I begrudgingly concede to English Fuck 2’s request.
She pounces on top of me, right over the desks of English Fuck 1 and Maisy, and smashes her cheek against mine. “Smile!” she proclaims. I don’t, but she takes the picture anyway and climbs back to her seat.
“Getting your likes on Instagram courtesy of Donovan Blake. You’re welcome.”
How can Maisy be friends with Bella and her clique of rich bitches, these English fuckers who smell like dirt and trees, and the roommate and her art major friends? She is a social chameleon and it’s a major turn on. Besides everything else I already lo- um, like, about her, her ability to make friends is fascinating.
I turn to look up where Finn and the boys are sitting, and he’s scowling at me. He knows Maisy and I have been hanging out a lot lately, and I think he’s getting nervous. I flick him off.
I’m gonna win, motherfucker, I mouth to him so Maisy can’t see me. Asshole! You are an asshole, I think. Is she still really a bet? I shove the thought away because I can’t envision this ending with a happily ever after.
I would be a shitty boyfriend anyway, and Maisy deserves so much better than me. After I break her, she’ll recover and meet her Prince Charming. They’ll ride off on his fucking white horse and she will live happily ever after. I’ll still be miserable, but by then I’ll be running a company I don’t even want. Alone. Like always.
Finn taps his wrist like he has a watch on as if to say, time is running out. He’s right. It’s October, the midterm is next week, and Halloween is just after that. I’m not sure if I’m more concerned about winning this bet or that fact that Maisy may bail after the midterm. I’m tempted to fail the midterm just so she’ll still tutor me, but I can’t. I don’t want to be suspended from the team. We’re actually having a pretty good football season, and if we win out, we’ll have a bowl game in December.
Dr. Winters drags this shit out for what feels like an eternity. I have a special thing planned for Maisy after practice in hopes that we can move our little relationship along, but knowing what I have planned makes time creep by even slower. Finally, class is dismissed and we start to pack up. I need to make this happen tonight, and I have the perfect place to do it.
“Hey, so I have somewhere I want to take you after practice,” I lean over and tell Maisy. I quickly inhale the coconut scent of her hair while I’m close. The English fucks perk up to listen in to our conversation.
“I have plans with Bella, Gemma and Paige. We’re going to Newberry Street. I told you already I couldn’t tutor you on Wednesdays.”
The guy nudges her and gives her a pointed look.
“It’s fine. I just had this epic thing planned, but I’ll cancel it.” I stick my bottom lip out in a pout and pretend to rip my heart out of my chest and hand it to her.
“Oh my God, stop!” she laughs and my cock twitches again. Her laugh just hits me right in the feels. “I’ll text Bella. I can’t afford that stuff anyway.” Her laugh and carefree spirit are intoxicating and I love that about her.
“Okay, I’ll pick you up at six. Where do you live?”
“I didn’t agree to that,” she tries to protest.
“Owl, this isn’t a tutoring session. I’ll be there at six. Where. Do. You. Live?” I ask with more bite in my voice than I intend, but I need to get this moving. Snuggling isn’t going to make Finn my bitch.
“Stafford House. Number 102.”
“Thank you. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” I plant a kiss on the top of her head as I stand and walk away before she can protest again. Oh my God. I just kissed her on her head? In front of people? What am I doing? What are you doing, you prick? Winning a bet. That’s what I’m doing.
I feel like I’ve gone insane. I’m toggling back and forth between my feelings and my reality. I’m going to be straight “Here’s Johnny” soon if this bet doesn’t end.
✽✽✽
Just like class, practice fucking drags on. We discuss our upcoming opponent, the Wisconsin Badgers. They suck and this feels like overkill.
“Why are you so fucking fidgety?” Rhodes asks, mohawk dyed a bright red, as he looks at my bouncing knee. I’m usually so jacked for game days that I’m all in during these meetings. Tonight, all I can think of is getting to Maisy.
“We know all this shit already. Why is this taking so long?” I groan and fist my hair.
“This is normal, bro. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks again.
“Nothing,” I snap.
“Bullshit. You’ve been having that chick over almost every night during the week. I know you’re not fucking her and you’re not fucking anyone else. The female congregation at this school is startin
g to panic. They need your dick, bro. Your huge cock is being wasted and my beautiful chocolate stick can’t handle any more pussy. I’m worn out from picking up your slack. And poor Jax is fucking exhausted. His scrawny white ass can’t keep up.”
I laugh and play it off, but Rhodes is right. I haven’t fucked anyone in what would be considered an eternity by Donovan Blake standards. Not for their lack of effort – jersey chasers are relentless – but for lack of interest on my part. I am consumed with all things Maisy.
I wish I could say I don’t know why, but I do. Maisy makes me feel things I don’t feel when I’m fucking random chicks. I have to forcefully will my brain to stop thinking about her. That smile. The way she laughs, deep and genuine, when something is funny. She’s been through some shit and still loves life and lives for herself. She has plans and goals, and it’s fucking sexy as hell.
“Bro.” Rhodes brings me back to reality. “Do I need to check to make sure your balls are still intact?”
“Fuck. Off.”
“You first,” he whispers, but shoots me one of his bright white smiles.
Coach Hayes finally dismisses us. It’s almost six thirty and I’m fucking late. If Maisy got sick of waiting and left, I’m going to fucking lose my shit.
Rhodes and I walk out of the locker room. He’s my best friend in the world and I need some solid advice even if it’s from the walking STD himself. I need to tell someone about Maisy and what’s happening to me. To my feelings. Bleh. The word feelings makes me retch.
“Hey,” I begin, “so, you’re right. I’m fucking losing it.”
“You don’t say,” he smirks.
“I’m trying to have a moment here. Can you just not be a douchebag?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. What’s up?” he asks with genuine concern on his face. “Did you get someone pregnant?”
It’s a valid question. We have teammates who are dads already, but I’m not one to shoot it in without a goalie.
Redemption (Cambria University #2) Page 14
