At my lack of response, she puts her hands on her hips. I’m sure she thinks she looks menacing, but she looks sexy to me. Like a nerdy nymph. She’s waiting for my reaction, certain she’s won this round, but I’m just getting started. I get the feeling she is too.
But I let her have this one. I was late, after all, and I get that she’s doing me a solid by even being here. Hell, if she’d been over an hour late to meet me, I’d have been long gone. I offer an explanation. “No need to be bratty. The team had the day off, but we still had to lift. I needed to grab a quick shower after. I wanted to do you the favor of not showing up sweaty and stinky.” I intentionally poke at her by acting like I was doing her the favor. “Sorry, gotta keep the hardware nice and clean.”
I glance down pointedly, knowing her eyes will unconsciously follow where mine go. Her blue gaze flicks down to my cock, soft but filling up my jeans with her attention. She tears her eyes away, and I add a tally mark to my column for rattling her. It’s a lazy flirtation, but less has resulted in a girl attempting to throw herself at me. But not Norma.
Her face scrunches into a venomous scowl, her annoyance at taking the bait in her eyes. “Please,” she fumes, “spare me the details of your dick. I’m sure it’s ‘sooo big’ and you’re ‘sooo amazing’ but I really don’t give a shit.” She lets her voice pitch high, affecting a vapid Valley Girl cheerleader vibe. I don’t interrupt her to tell her that I’ve heard that exact phrasing before because she obviously means it to be an insult.
I eye her, letting her think I’m considering her attack, but I reply, “You sound like a porn star when you say it like that.” I lean in close, whispering, “Can you do it like that later too?”
She growls, like the cutest tiger ever, and her pouty lips twist. “Maybe I will . . . for the guy who shows up on time for our date.” Something about the way she says it lets me know that there’s no guy, no date. And Coach said he’d made arrangements to cover for our study sessions, so surely, she’s not really going out with someone. Liar, liar, take those fiery pants off and let me see if the carpets match the drapes. My dirty thoughts are disrupted as she continues, “But you’re wasting your time, buddy. I’m here to help you with your English class. Take it or leave it. I have exactly thirty minutes until my plans for the night. What will it be?”
I consider whether maybe I’m wrong and she does actually have a date with some fucker after our tutoring session. Oddly, the thought pisses me off, even if this is supposed to be some fake cover story to save my ass. I like this banter, the back and forth of challenging each other. It’s new, different, exciting.
“Do you really have a date?” The words pop out before I can stop them and her eyes narrow.
“Why do you care?” she asks, seemingly legitimately bewildered.
I smirk, sensing the upper hand is mine again with that opening. “I’m just trying to picture the guy who gets all this fire to melt underneath him. He must be fucking Teflon with the knives you throw. But I bet a soft Norma is a sight to behold, a rare gift.” I look her up and down, trying to imagine her writhing and begging, submissive and sweet. My breath hitches a bit as my heart rate speeds up. Fuck, this girl could count as my cardio for the day and I’m not even fucking her. Yet.
She shuffles on her feet, more affected by my appraisal than I would’ve expected. She’s not scathing me with a flaming retort. No, she seems almost . . . shocked, judging by the way her mouth rounds, her jaw dropping. “Oh.” It’s more a sound than a word, and I like that I’ve managed to make her speechless.
I reach up to run my thumb along her full bottom lip, curious whether the red tinge there is lipstick, for some reason hoping it’s her natural lip color but knowing it’d look hot wrapped around my cock either way. Her whole countenance is soft for a second, suspended in time and full of sexual tension as I crowd closely enough to feel the heat from her body against mine. Time slows as I see her desire to yield to me, and I know she’s not nearly as unaffected by me as she’d lead me to believe.
And the moment snaps.
She comes back to herself and I see the instant switch in her eyes. She steps back, swallowing hard, but the sassiness is back. “That is none of your damn business. This whole ridiculous fake girlfriend thing is just that—fake. I’m not some football groupie who’s going to fuck you just because you give a nod. I’m better than that. Hell, those girls are better than that too. So keep it in your pants, don’t try to get in mine, and we’ll be fine. Capiche?”
I grin, the cold dismissal just as hot as the fire. “Brat, don’t talk about things you don’t know. You have no idea who I’m fucking or how I get them in bed with me. Unless you want me to show you?”
She flinches, but I’m not sure what I said that zinged so close to home. I replay the words over in my head. Maybe she does want me to show her? That can be arranged, for fucking sure.
Whatever it was, it set her off in a way our previous verbal blows didn’t. She’s gone all-business on me. “Word is, you need my help so you don’t fail and get kicked off the team right when they need you most. The world is bigger than Xs and Os, so stop with the bullshit and let’s get started. Twenty-seven minutes now. You in or out?”
The words are on my lips to tell her to take her orders and shove them up her gorgeous little ass. I’m behind on my GPA, but I’m not stupid. English is just mind-numbingly boring for me, always has been. Some people write epics on paper. I write mine in a different way. Doesn’t help that my teacher has a hard-on for Paradise Lost, which is the most long-winded pain in the ass of all time. I’m not knocking school, but I didn’t come to college to wax poetic. I came because I know my life’s path. I’m going to make my mark on the field. Football doesn’t last forever, and I’ll have my degree for when that time comes, but my legacy with the pigskin will always be my greatest joy. I just need a little help to get through this rough patch, which is why I finally came to terms with Coach’s orders to get a tutor.
The staring contest is fierce, but she wins easily. Fuck, this minx is killing me, verbally castrating me and challenging me at every turn. Who’d have thought that would be so damn sexy? “In.”
She tries to hide her smile, but I can see it tickling her full lips. “Good. Now that I have your attention, let’s get a few things clear.” She holds up a finger, demonstrating ‘one’, but all I see is the blush pink covering her short nails, feminine but functional. “You’re going to show me some respect. Out there on the field, you might be the king. But that doesn’t mean a damn thing to me here. You obviously need help, and I’m going to help you, but only if you’re here on time and don’t waste mine.” She points to the floor, making sure I get the point that I should be at the library at the arranged time. She sounds uppity, like someone’s said that to her before.
“Two.” She holds up a second finger. “The cover story Erica and Coach Jefferson came up with is ridiculous, but I guess it’ll work if there are any questions or suspicions. But it is fake. I’m not fucking you and we’re not dating. But I won’t be made a fool of either, so don’t go flaunting your groupies around while telling folks we’re together. Be discreet and I’ll do the same.”
“Three.” A third finger pops up. “Uhm . . . never mind. I think that was all I have. Questions?”
Her words cut, irritatingly bossy, so I revert to what I know. I grab her hand, bringing her still upheld fingers higher in the air and laying a soft kiss to each fingertip before giving her a hard look. “I think you’re confused about the situation, but I agree we should be clear. I know this is stupid, and I hate that it’s come to this, but I’ll do any-fucking-thing for football, even pretend to date some girl I don’t know, who’s already busting my balls, just so I can stay on the field. I do need help, but I don’t need to hear shit from you about what a dumbass I am. Trust me, I already know, and your talking down to me ain’t gonna help a damn thing.”
She yanks her hand back, holding it to her chest like my kiss hurt her. Her eyes searc
h mine, and I don’t look away, forcing myself to stand up to this little spitfire brat.
She looks down first. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insulting . . . at least, not about your intelligence.”
I’m surprised at her apology. I didn’t think those words would ever pass her lips, if I’m honest. Though she didn’t apologize for thinking I’m some groupie-fucking manwhore. But that didn’t hurt nearly as much her thinking I’m stupid. I tilt her chin up, meeting her eyes again. “Apology accepted. I’m sorry for being late. Won’t happen again.”
She nods. “Good. Okay then, tomorrow at five. For real this time?” She grabs her bag from the table, tossing it over her shoulder like she’s leaving.
“Fuck that. We’re getting started tonight,” I say, my hard tone not allowing any argument. Except from her, apparently.
She smirks, tossing her red hair back over shoulder. “Sorry, I’ve got plans.”
I want to shut her smart mouth up with a kiss. Or maybe a kiss to my dick. Either might be acceptable and would stick with her apparent rule about not fucking.
Too bad because I think some combo sex-study sessions would be a rather great motivator to get my grades up.
Instead, I take her elbow firmly but gently enough that she could pull away if she wanted to. I guide her deeper into the library toward a shadowed corner far away from the main entrance where people constantly come and go. Vaguely, I wonder if anyone has seen our exchange and wondered what was going on. Shit.
“Come on, Brat,” I growl over my shoulder at her. “We’ve got studying to do.”
Once in the relative safety of the private corner, without a soul in sight, I push her back against the wall, crowding in front of her. She sputters, eyes wide. “What the hell, Zach? You can’t just drag me around like some bastard, big-dicked jock who thinks people should bow at his feet and live life according to your timetable.” She’s ranting again, her voice getting a bit loud for the library.
I press into her, letting her feel me and silencing her with my rumbled, “Bastard? Big-dicked? Sounds like you’d like to know for sure. Say the word, and I’ll pull it out for you, Norma.” I know she can feel that I’m already half-hard just from being this close to her, but the thought of her asking to see my cock has a rush of blood going south. I wait a beat to see if by some stroke of God’s grace, she does. When she stays silent, giving me a death glare, I continue. “Look, I apologized for being late, but we really do need to get started. I have a paper due in two days, and as much as I hate to admit it, I do need your help. I need at least a B-minus on this paper.” I lay on a bit of the puppy dog eye treatment, hoping she gives in. My future lies in her hands.
Norma
My heart and my head both pound furiously as Zach pulls me into one of the back corners of the library. I don’t know why I’m following him without protest. I should be kicking him in the balls for laying his hands on me. His big, rough, warm hands touching the skin of my arm . . . I wonder what those hands would feel like on more sensitive parts, like my belly, my ass, my pussy.
I shake my head. No, that’s so not what is happening here. It can’t be. Because I am not turned on by his charming caveman act. Still, when we stop, I’m dimly aware that it’s the romance section, of all places.
Fighting my own attraction, I take it out on him, whisper-yelling as he presses me against the wall. “What the hell, Zach?” There’s more to my rant, though I’m mindlessly insulting him now. My breath is gone, no oxygen to fuel my brain as my body tunes in on the electricity arcing between us.
Then he leans against me, fire sparking as the connection between our bodies completes. I curse the separation of our clothing and then realize he’s offering to pull his dick out right here in the library. I’m shocked into silence, though a part of my brain begs for me to say yes, to have him do that, right here, right now. I can feel his hard thickness against my belly, something that should have me fighting back with sharp words.
Instead, I’m fumbling for something to say like some useless airhead. Pushed up against him, it’s like every cell in my body has come to life with an itch that’s both maddening and wonderful. Hazily, I wonder if this is what most people feel when they lust after someone. No one has ever stood up to my personality long enough for me to even really consider them the way I’m currently considering Zach.
And I’m definitely considering him. Six feet four, I’d bet, with wide shoulders and muscles that ride that fine line between bulging and lean, wearing a team T-shirt that makes me want to pull it over his head for a better view. His hair is still damp a bit, because of the shower he was late for, but the darkness added to his shaggy blond hair makes him look more carefree. His blue eyes are diving into my soul, and the flash of his smile, teeth so white he could star in a toothpaste commercial, brings me back to reality.
This can’t happen. Not him. Not me. Not here. Not now. Not. Ever.
The thought brings a hint of sadness with it, and it’s mirrored by the imploring look he’s giving me. Luckily, part of my brain was paying attention to his words, and I’m able to give a reasonable answer even though most of my body is ready to roll over and purr for him.
What the hell, Norma?
“Fine. Two days for a paper isn’t much time to work with, so let’s get started,” I finally answer, hating that I’m giving in but not ready to leave him either.
His expression instantly changes to a smirk at the victory. “Great. Do you need to text anyone to cancel your plans?”
He knows I was bluffing. I don’t have plans and definitely don’t have a date. It was the principle of the matter. “No, asshole. I don’t need to text anyone.” I plop onto the couch in this corner, letting my bag fall gently to the floor.
Zach sits down beside me, leaving a space between us. “I knew it, Brat. You were just trying to get a rise out of me, weren’t you?” I shrug, not willing to confirm or deny his assessment.
I fight a smile. “I get it now. My boss told me ‘good luck’ with this whole mess, and in hindsight, I’m thinking that means she knows what a cocky jerk you are. Maybe you know her. She seems to follow football a bit. Erica Waters?” Though I’m teasing, I desperately want him to say he hasn’t slept with her. I don’t know why that would seem too close to home, but it does.
But he shakes his head. “Nope, don’t know her. I also don’t know her. But I do really want you to say that again.” He winks like I should know what he’s talking about, and then it hits me.
I look him full in the eye, intentionally adding emphasis as I breathily say in my best porn star imitation, “Caaahhck–y jerk.” His eyes watch the word leave my lips and then jump to mine, full of humor.
“Oh, you think you’re funny, Brat? Turnaround is fair play,” he says brazenly. He grabs a book from the shelf in front of us, not bothering to read the cover, but I can see that it’s titled Hot For The Billionaire. I roll my eyes until he opens the book and starts actually reading.
“I’m going to fuck you raw and rough, rip that little pussy to shreds with my big cock.” He changes his voice to a falsetto. “Yes, John, screw me with that big cock. I’m your slut and I want you inside me so badly. I gaze upon his flawless magnificence with unbridled need, my glistening sugar walls begging for the massive manhood inside his slacks.”
I grab at the book, trying to get it from his hands. “Stop it!” I beg, trying not to laugh and pissed off at the little giggle that escapes my mouth. I don’t know what’s more disturbing, his reading this or that I’m actually getting turned on by his saying such over-the-top cheesy, dirty things in that silly voice. “You’re making an ass of yourself!”
Zach chuckles, tossing the book back on the shelf. “Do women actually read that shit? But I guess you seem to have enjoyed it. That little giggle was cute.”
I roll my eyes, snarling. “Get over yourself. You’re totally not funny.” Except my snarl sounds more like a purr. A hungry, ravenous purr.
"Reall
y? I think I see your breath quickening.” His eyes drop to my chest, and I force myself not to arch my back and show off for him.
“Get your eyes checked,” I sass. “You might be blind.” The jab is weak at best, but it’s all I have in this moment.
“Saw that passage perfectly fine. And I shut that cute little mouth of yours.”
I think my cheeks are turning as red as my hair.
C’mon, Norma, he probably drops lines like that with all the girls. And this is not real.
“You didn’t shut anything,” I growl, but sheesh, the growl makes it sound like a dare.
He hears it too, his grin growing wider, cockier, as if he knows what his playful alpha attitude is doing to me. “Come on, you’re all attitude and a big mouth, but you’re not that bad. And you’re enjoying this, just like I am.”
I need to get out of here before I transform into some weak, mewling kitten lapping at his feet. Puffing out my chest, I gather myself up. “Truth? You’re maybe not so bad. But we do need to work. Two days, remember?”
The light, teasing mood that had surrounded us evaporates and I’m sorry I said anything. But it’s the reality of what’s going on between us. He may be fun to spar with, and he might enjoy getting under my skin, but at the end of the day, this is about one thing only—his grades.
He sighs. “Yeah, two days. Let’s get to work.”
Neither of us seem particularly driven to study, but he pulls out his copy of Paradise Lost and a spiral filled with more chicken scratches than notes. I glance through it, trying to gauge where he’s at in the story and what level of comprehension he’s getting from the old poem that’s decidedly complex. But the more I try to read through his notes, the less I know where he’s at. “Okay, how about this. Explain what you’ve gotten from the story so far and what the assignment is supposed to include.”
The Virgin Diaries: The Complete Series Page 26
