Misconduct (FSCU Pitbulls Book 1)

by Stella Marie Alden

  Misconduct

  By Stella Marie Alden

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  From the Author!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Copyright (C) 2019 Stella Marie Alden

  Cover by Charli Childs

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

  stellamariealden@gmail.com

  Special thanks to my lover, my best friend, and my editor, Rich.

  I thank my ARC readers, Katherine and Bobby who help me with my marketing, and

  most of all, much love to you, dear reader, for buying my books.

  Chapter 1

  Ryan Finnegan.

  Of all the classes in all the towns in all the world she walks into mine.

  Who’ll take the lead, my brain or my cock? While mind and body struggle for control, I consider killing my personal assistant. He’s the one who recommended this class. How did he put it? An easy A?

  I know for a fact, the redhead sitting next to me is a journalism major. If she’s taking Public Speaking 101, it may not be an easy pass. Most importantly, I won’t be able to concentrate.

  Her beautiful eyes, now green, lift. They catch my gaze and widen. Other than that, she gives no indication we’ve ever met, let alone shared mind-blowing sex a few short weeks ago.

  When I wink, she rolls her eyes and takes her gaze to the professor who’s begun to drone on about his syllabus. He says to check our emails for our assignments but I got a tutor for that.

  I pick up my phone and hit send.

  Me: Why haven’t U answered my texts?

  Kira’s phone vibrates, she glances down, and glowers across the aisle. In response, I send her a smiley face, three ridiculous gifs, and a picture of us line dancing. Sighing heavily, she picks up her phone, points the screen in my direction, and makes a big deal of pushing the off icon.

  Her attention returns to the professor but I tune him out. Judging from his bored tone, he’s probably recited this first-day-of-class bullshit at least a hundred times before.

  God dammit. I can’t believe she’s ignoring me. Up until last week, we were doing fine, then we fucked. I knew it was a bad idea but she insisted.

  Even now, I picture her as I last saw her… naked in my bed.

  ‘Meet me after class.’ I throw a note onto her desk.

  She opens it, reads, and crumples the paper into a small ball before throwing it on the floor.

  The gray-haired professor looks down at Kira’s feet and glances down at his roster. “Mr. Finnegan, I presume?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.” Grinning, I wave at the class, most who know me and cheer.

  The prof, probably near retirement, glares at me over his reading glasses. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Yes sir.” I hold forth my scribbled-upon notepad I carry around for such occasions.

  “Excellent. Based on what I said, come up and give us a sixty-second speech.” Dufferson motions me out of my seat.

  Rising, I glance at Kira and when I wink, her ivory cheeks redden, freckles standing out even more than usual. Damn, she’s beautiful and I want her in my bed.

  Humming, I stroll up to the front of the class. “Y’all want me to recount something from this summer? Is that it?”

  A beautiful co-ed, a cheerleader, leans her elbows on her desktop so I can see down her shirt but I’m not interested. I only got eyes for the feisty redhead, three seats back, second row from the left.

  I shoot Kira my world-famous, panty-melting smile, then begin. “Last week I met a girl…”

  When I pause for dramatic effect, the women in the class moan and the guys hoot and holler. I should’ve mentioned, a Texan does not need a course in public speaking.

  Hand on heart, looking to the ceiling, and recite.

  “There once was a girl from the dorm

  For whom falling in pools was the norm

  With clothes all of white

  She was such a sight

  And attracted me far worse than porn.”

  When the laughter dies down, I try another.

  “There was a young woman from band

  Who didn’t much care for dry land

  She jumped in the water,

  I saw more than I oughta

  Then she told me to go and pound sand.”

  “Enough!” Kira stands, face the color of a penalty flag. “You’re not funny.”

  “They think so.” I point out our classmates rolling in the aisle. Even our professor has one hand braced on the whiteboard, the other over his mouth, about to bust a gut.

  “Ooh, a limerick is not a speech. Are y’all going to let him get away with this, Mr. Dufferson? It’s… it’s insulting.” One hip out, she crosses her arms over her tight t-shirt.

  “I take it you are this man’s muse?” The professor raises a brow, still grinning.

  “No. I just… It’s not right.”

  Coughing, the professor shakes his head back and forth. “You may take your seat, Mr. Finnegan. You too, Ms. McKenzie.”

  Chapter 2

  Kira

  Arrgh. What a jackass.

  I glower poison darts at Ryan Finnegan as he strolls down the aisle. If looks could kill, he’d be lying flat on the linoleum with a lily on his chest. Isn’t it bad enough we slept together? Now, he needs to torture me? Worse, as he gets closer, my clit tugs into a knot and my nipples harden. That’s how good we were in bed.

  Oh my God. Surely, there’s another English class scheduled at this time. If I need to sit next to the arrogant quarterback for a whole semester, I may lose my ever-friggin’ mind.

  He passes me another note. Don’t be mad.

  “Seriously?” I hiss out my breath. “You made me out a fool in front of the whole class.”

  He whispers back but nowhere nearly as softly as I did. “I didn’t think you’d ’fess up.”

  My face, already heated, warms until the tops of my ears burn. The only people who knew about my unfortunate dunk in the pool were his buddies and a few of my friends. By opening my big mouth, everyone now knows. My forehead clunks when it hits the desktop. By nightfall, every student at FSCU will be tweeting what happened in English.

  Dammit.

  “Why can’t you just be nice?” My voice comes out louder than I intended and everyone in the
class turns as Ryan leans his large frame over the aisle.

  “Me? You’re the one who walked out.”

  “Did not.”

  “Y’all sure did, honey.”

  “Don’t you dare call me honey.” I stand, he stands, and the professor sighs as he opens the classroom door. “Take it into the hall, you two, before I fail you both on the first day.”

  A couple journalism students have their cell phones out, no doubt hoping to sell our childish interactions to the evening news.

  Beyond embarrassed, I try to exit stage left but the quarterback grabs my upper arm. “Wait, we need to talk.”

  “Why? You made it very clear. We’re not friends.” Even though my eyes sting, I refuse to cry in front of him.

  His dark brows furrow and his mouth grows tight. “Don’t tell me. You’re back together with Derriere-itch?”

  “None of your goddamned business.”

  “Fine. But we are not done.”

  “Yeah, we are.” One tear escapes down my cheek but I wipe it away real fast. Why, of all the men on this campus, did I have to fall for Ryan Finnegan?

  After I leave him hanging, I figure, my day can only get better. For a while, it’s true. I find all my classrooms and my books are available, online. However, when I check with the registrar, there isn’t another English course available.

  I groan. For the rest of the semester, I’m stuck sitting next to Ryan’s gorgeous, yet pompous ass.

  At marching band practice, I pull my glockenspiel out of my locker and my BFF approaches. She shoves her cell phone under my nose, hits play, and there I am, making a complete fool of myself.

  Closing my eyes, I push her hand away. “How many hits?”

  “Too many. What the hell happened, Kira? I thought you were done with him.” She slides a shoulder into her white leather marching harness, adds her drum, then picks up her sticks.

  “Hey. He started it. Dufferson asked him to make up a speech and he recited a stupid limerick about me falling in the pool.” I adjust my lyre, clip on my music, and stroll toward the band room door.

  “Wow. I’m impressed.” Running to keep up, she grins and pulls out a rubber band so her pink hair won’t blow into her face while we march.

  Outside, the start of practice is heralded by flutes, clarinets, and horns warming up.

  “C’mon. We’re late.” I punch her arm and with a drum against her thigh, she half marches, half stumbles across the field, laughing her ass off.

  “Limericks? Were they any good?”

  “They rhymed but that’s not the point. I will never live this down.”

  Suddenly, a football zooms over our head, lands at my feet, and bounces away. When I turn in the direction it came, Ryan tugs off his helmet and jogs toward us. The gaze of his hazel eyes starts at my head and slowly runs up and down my body.

  “Hi Red… Pinky.”

  Before I can think of a snappy comeback, Star slaps a hand over my mouth and says sweet as honey pie, “Hi Ryan. Real nice throwin’. Hope y’all can do better by this weekend.”

  “It landed exactly where I intended.” The egotistical quarterback has the audacity to wink at me.

  We both watch his incredible ass as he runs back toward his team.

  “Seems to me, he’s still interested in you.” Star tilts her head, pink locks shifting onto her shoulder and I shrug.

  “He can flirt all he wants. It isn’t going to change how I feel. You do remember what happened right after we fucked.” My face still burns at the thought of that night.

  “Yeah, but something’s off. He always stays friends with the girls he screws.” Star moves her drum to the side so she can give me a quick hug.

  “I know. I blew it. He must’ve sensed I was too needy.” I sigh. “How was I supposed to know I’d fall for him? I was with Derrick for three years and never drank the totally in-love-Kool-Aid.” I air quote the last part of the sentence with my mallets.

  She snickers because I may have shared a little too much information about comparing my only two boyfriends in bed.

  We stop talking because our conductor blows his whistle. Done yelling at the horns for being out of tune, he puts us all to work and it’s a huge relief to focus on something other than Ryan Finnegan.

  Later, in the locker room, I check my emails, and shout out to Star. “Woo hoo! I got a tutoring job.”

  When I see my new student’s name, my celebration ends, and I moan. “You got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “Ryan?” My friend comes up behind me and reads over my shoulder, giggling hysterically.

  “Oh my God. This is so not funny. I need the money. I can’t say no.”

  “C’mon now, Kira. You like Ryan, he likes you, what’s the big deal?” She grabs her purse and checks herself in the mirror.

  I do the same and remove the elastic holding my shoulder-length hair. Then, I powder the freckles over the bridge of my nose until they’re less obvious.

  “Where to?” She paints bright pink on her lips.

  My stomach grumbles and I burp out gas. “I’m heading back. I don’t think dinner agreed with me.”

  “Okay. I told Jackson I’d meet him after practice so I’ll see you later. I was hoping we could all hang, like in band camp.”

  “If wishes were fishes…”

  “Fried. I know. Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Still laughing at my misfortune, she saunters off. When I see her again, I’m hugging the toilet bowl, all sweaty and gross.

  I moan and drop on my ass. “I feel like that time we thought three bottles of cheap wine was a good idea.”

  My friend drops to her knees and puts a palm to my forehead. “You’re warm. Want me to get you something from the drug store?”

  “No, I’m fine. Go to bed. What time is it?”

  “Just after two.”

  “Oh, great. I’m never going to make it to class.” In my head, I analyze tomorrow’s schedule, wondering who I can ask for notes. The only place I’m stuck is English. No way am I asking Ryan.

  With cool ceramic tiles at my back, I look up at Star and really see her. Her lips are swollen and cheeks red from whisker burn.

  “Get out of town. Are you having sex with Jackson Farnsworth.?”

  She blushes a deep red and if I wasn’t nauseous, I’d be green with jealousy. What I wouldn’t give to have Ryan showering me with the same love and attention.

  My phone rings, Star jumps up, and checks my callerID. “It’s Derrick. I thought you two broke up.”

  Stomach lurching, I almost throw up. “I did. He refuses to stop calling.”

  The incoming call continues with his ring tone and she holds the phone so I can see. “Wait. Isn’t he the one who insisted you take a break?”

  “Right? “I stand with shaky legs and splash water on my face. “I told him we were done. Do you know what he said because I didn’t want to have sex, you-know-where?”

  “I can only imagine.” She hands me a washcloth and points to ick I missed on my chin.

  I run water, rinse and as I dry, speaking into the towel. “He said we can think about it, once we’re married.

  “Yikes.” She grimaces.

  “Agreed. Star, I am so done with men. From now on, I’m going to live vicariously through you.”

  I change my tone along with the subject matter. “So, tell me, how is Jackson in bed?”

  “Oh my God, you can’t imagine but I think he’s in some kind of trouble.” She turns on my bedroom light, opens the covers for me, and I crawl between the sheets.

  “What makes you say that?” My head hits the pillow and eyelids grow heavy.

  Her pretty mouth purses and her brows crease. “I’m not sure. It’s just a feeling I get. He’s too jumpy, looks over his shoulder too much, and tries not to be seen in public. Maybe I’m just imagining it. Damn, I need some shuteye. See you in the morning?” She closes her eyes and yawns.

  “Could I ask you one more favor?” I snuggle
into bed as she turns out the light.

  “Sure, hun, anything.”

  “Could you stop by the pharmacy and get me a pregnancy test?”

  She inhales sharply then there’s silence for at least sixty seconds. “How late are you?”

  “Just a couple days but I’m usually spot on, no pun intended.”

  “Derrick?”

  “No way.”

  “Ryan?”

  “Either that or it’s the second coming of Christ.”

  “Shit. Sure. I’ll go out first thing in the morning. Try and get some sleep.”

  “Right. I’ll do that.” After she closes the door, I count sheep.

  Unfortunately, their wool is pink and baa like an infant’s cries. Needless to say, when my alarm goes off in the morning, I throw it across the room.

  Chapter 3

  Ryan

  I wake up in my specially ordered, medium-firm, double-sized bed. It barely fits in my small dorm room but getting a good night’s sleep is far more important than living space. Towel in hand, I head to the bathroom. Most of the guys are gone but I must’ve hit the snooze button at least four times.

  Damn that redhead. Ever since we had sex, my cock is at half chub. This morning, I couldn’t even get out of bed until I got off. I pumped and pictured her as she was, shaking with her first orgasm. I entered her tight pussy and, in that instant, my life changed.

  Generally, I don’t take inexperienced women to my bed. They’re not the type to agree to my one-night-only rule. I should’ve known better. I shower and my cock starts twitching again. Fuck this. I need my head in the game, not in thoughts of slick folds, surrounded by a soft red bush.

  As I walk with my teammates to the cafeteria. I focus on how Jackson’s ass is dragging. “Y’all need to get to bed earlier or at least act like it. What time you get in last night?”

  He moans. “It was morning.”

  Russell, his blond giant of a roommate, shoves him up the stairs. “You fuck up our chances of winning, I will mess you up real bad. Y’hear?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it.” Jackson stumbles up the stairs.

  “No, you don’t got it, bro, and you know what I’m talking about.” Russell drags a hand across his short beard.