Hating Him Wanting Him : A Contemporary Romance Collection

by Summer Brooks

  11

  Mia

  Bryant’s friend left after handing me the forms I needed to fill out, telling me to take my time, I didn’t have to worry about any deadlines or paperwork nonsense — she’d help me out.

  I was grateful for this. This room was a little bigger than the room I had originally been given, the one that I ended up converting into being a shared dorm with Sam. Part of me wished I had never done that, that I could just undo it.

  It would hurt, but I could definitely tell Sam to just go back to her old dorm, while I tried to ignore everything and make a home for myself in the place I was given to begin with.

  But then I realized Sam was the one who made all those things happened. Until I fixed things with Sam, she would just make everything so miserable, and I didn’t want that. Not at all. I just wanted to keep things in perspective. I was here to study journalism, not to get dragged into drama.

  I sighed, and Bryant started to walk towards me. I could tell he was ready to give me another big bear hug.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Thanks, but I just want a little space right now.”

  “Okay,” he understood. “I can leave. Looks like everything’s under control here… right?”

  “Sure it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Well, I don’t mean to be a spoilsport about things but… isn’t this going to be expensive? Your scholarship won’t cover all of it. You’ll have to pay extra, and I don’t want you to have to stretch yourself at a time when you’ve already got a lot of pressure coming your way. I just want you to be able to relax a little,” Bryant said.

  “Right,” I said, listening carefully to his words. What was he trying to say? That he wanted to pay for this?

  I let a silence pause between us. I was attracted to him, that was true. I was pissed off at him for driving a wedge between me and Sam, but even I knew that was an irrational feeling. He didn’t really do anything. I was the one at fault for kissing him back, but in the end it was all about Sam, because she was the one who refused to see things straight.

  So I told him what I needed him to know first and foremost.

  “You don’t owe me anything, Bryant.”

  The quarterback paused, making sure he picked the right words. I didn’t like that he had to walk on glass around me, that he was so worried he’d set me off, but right now I was in a real bad mood, and I knew I could easily be set off. So this was a good thing.

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t take any help, if it doesn’t cost you anything,” Bryant eventually said. He sounded a little annoyed, maybe at me, but probably more at himself.

  A guy like Bryant Howard was not used to not getting his way. Paradoxically, sometimes that meant when he tried to help someone, he probably expected it to go over smoothly, that nobody would object, and suddenly all problems in the world are sorted.

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t really work like that. I’m an independent girl, I can afford this.”

  “For a few months, probably. What about at the end of the semester? Or the semester after that? I know you’re the kind of girl who studies like crazy, so you’d be hurting yourself if you tried to juggle it working a dead-end part-time job, Mia.”

  I winced. “You know, in the whole year when I couldn’t go here, that was exactly what I managed to do. I worked at the sporting goods store you used to go to, remember that place? We had our last big fight there.”

  A look of embarrassment came over Bryant, and he started to fold his arms in front of him. “Not my best moment.”

  “Or mine. But that’s in the past, right? Can we at least agree on that?”

  “Sure,” he said, exhaling softly. “That’s very generous of you.”

  I nodded. This was leading exactly where I wanted it to. “And it’s very generous of you to have your friend help me get a new place at no notice at all. Most guys would never do that for someone, let alone someone who’s had a lot of bad history with him. So thank you for that. But I can handle things on my own from here.”

  He looked surprised, and I had to hold back a thousand different things I would just as easily have said at that moment.

  I couldn’t tell him that as much as I was trying to be a tough girl, sitting in her room all alone, right now I just wanted comfort. I wanted it from him. I wanted Bryant to come over here, touch me and hold me, but I couldn’t ask for that.

  I couldn’t guarantee it was going to be all right.

  And the last thing I wanted was to stay too long in one place, get comfortable in his presence, contradict everything I had ever believed in just because it’s easier to melt your worries away in Bryant’s strong arms.

  “I can go,” he said, one more time.

  But then I stopped myself from letting him do that. I just wanted to let this moment last, this nice feeling of knowing that Bryant was looking out for my best interests after all. He was helping me, and he wanted to make sure I was okay.

  I raised a hand. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t… go?”

  “Yeah. I don’t want you to leave, not right now. Please stay, Bryant.”

  I couldn’t read his face at that moment, because it must have been a sudden rush of conflicting emotions. We were sharing a moment here. I felt my body get lighter and lighter, as I focused on my breathing, pacing myself.

  Something told me I was ready for him to be here in the room with me.

  He could do whatever he wanted. He could keep me company.

  Or he could come touch me, hold me, like I wanted.

  My eyes must have spoken my desire to him, because the alpha male of a quarterback took slow, decisive steps towards me, until we were standing just inches away from each other.

  I could feel his breath, the way his body seemed to glow and radiate warmth. He was so much taller than me. He was so much bigger, too.

  He had wrapped his arms around me before, when I started crying after Sam blew up at me. That felt so good. That was a feeling no guy had ever made me feel. In that moment, Bryant made me feel safe and secure.

  “I want to feel safe again,” I whispered to him.

  He looked down at me, his eyes starting to fill with intensity. I had seen those deep brown eyes before, but this was the first time I really saw them as beautiful, that I started to realize just how hot he was.

  It was crazy to me that Bryant Howard had been someone I called my arch-nemesis for so many years, that I had built up this crazy, negative impression of him, when actually, deep down inside, he was a good guy.

  “You’re not just a billionaire’s son,” I whispered to him. “You’re so much more. You’re a good man.”

  “I try,” he said, his voice dark and low as well. “Fuck, I try so much.”

  I could tell these were words that really mattered to him.

  My hands started to press against his chest. He was still wearing his football jersey, in this time he had only removed his helmet and most of his guard pads. Right now, in my room, in front of me, he was definitely the school’s star quarterback.

  “What now?” I whispered. “I just want to feel safe again.”

  “Let me make you feel safe,” he immediately replied. My palms felt good pressed against his broad chest. His hands began to move to my waist.

  That touch left me feeling weak. I could feel myself actually want something more. Not just a kiss.

  I needed tonight to wash away all the drama and pain from earlier.

  “Please,” I whispered, without even identifying what it was I was begging him to do.

  But Bryant knew. His eyes flashed and I could tell he knew. He began to undress me, inching us forward towards the single bed.

  It was too small for two people to sleep in, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t squeeze our bodies together there.

  The thought of him doing that to me made me tingle.

  “Yes, please,” I whispered, tilting my neck towards him, just as he began to lean down and kiss me there.

  My body
began to tremble, and I realized I was ready to experience this closeness and intimacy with Bryant. All the drama of the past was stupid. This was what mattered.

  I was ready.

  “Please,” I murmured to him again, while he began to remove my t-shirt, pulling it above my head. I had a denim skirt on, and I was suddenly painfully aware of my mismatched underwear. I had a beige bra on but white cotton panties.

  Bryant kept kissing my body, while my hands wandered around his. I didn’t know that I could want this so much.

  I was a virgin, but did Bryant know that? It wasn’t like this was a religious thing, or that I had been waiting for marriage. It was just that nothing had ever escalated to this level… and now that I knew Bryant was here, doing this to me… I was ready.

  My heart was beating so fast as Bryant began to cup my breasts with his hands. “They’re so nice,” he said, even though he hadn’t seen them yet, even though he was still just cupping my bra.

  “Thanks,” I said, blushing.

  “I mean it,” Bryant said. “Can I take them off?”

  I waited until he was looking at my face again. I smiled up at him. “I’d love it if you did that.”

  This wasn’t what you typically expected from a popular guy, an alpha male, a quarterback like Bryant. You thought of them as greedy guys whose sheer power of magnetism made you want to do everything he said, whether he asked it or not. There were all the stereotypes of the alpha male who would just take what he wanted.

  Right now, Bryant was taking it slow. Bryant was making it feel right.

  As he removed my bra after a few seconds of trying to find the clasp, I realized this wasn’t just his style during sex — this was Bryant being a thoughtful guy in general.

  He helped me get this room.

  Did his friend suspect we were doing this right now? My eyes shot towards the closed door, wondering if I needed to pause everything, just lock the door, make sure nothing interrupted our time together.

  But right now, being kissed by Bryant as he fondled my breasts, touching me, making me feel warm and wanted… I didn’t want to risk suddenly ending this moment.

  There was a magic to the way our bodies were reacting to each other, and the last thing I wanted was to interrupt that.

  I raised my hands from his abs to touch his face, bringing it to my face level.

  “I want to kiss you,” I whispered, and then I did exactly that. Our lips began to meet, opening slightly so our mouths could kiss deeper, so I could feel his tongue with mine.

  We kissed hard, and I could feel my body rapidly become taken over by the passion that had been simmering this whole time. I wanted passion, I was getting passion. I was getting Bryant Howard, uncensored, his attention fully devoted to me.

  I could feel my face blush again as I thought about just how good he was at kissing. I had my fair share of practice, probably nowhere near the kind of time spent on kissing the way a guy who had always been popular his whole life like Bryant did, but I was blown away by just how good he was at that.

  He had a real talent for kissing me, holding my body close to him, our waists pressed together.

  I could feel his bulge against the front of my thigh. Just feeling that made me wet. “Oh my God,” I whispered, flustered.

  “Are you okay with this?” Bryant checked in with me.

  “Of course,” I nodded. “I’m just… you know, not used to this. It’s hot.”

  “It is,” Bryant agreed. “I’m going to keep undressing you, okay?”

  He was being gentle with me, and that was exactly what I needed right now. I needed solace, I needed comfort, I needed his protection. He had such large, strong hands, and the muscles of his arms and chest were all I could think about.

  When he stepped back from our previous kiss, I told him to wait, and then I immediately started reaching for his pants, undoing the knot and pulling them down.

  My hand brushed against his bulge and I shivered.

  Not that I had any real experience at this, but… He was huge.

  My body was shivering nonstop. It wasn’t anxiety, it was anticipation. Bryant was a man who could give me everything I needed, and that was what I wanted. Everything.

  He was just in his tight grey briefs and his football jersey, the pads of his shoulders making his upper body look even more large and imposing.

  I was topless for him now, and I let him take my skirt off, zipping from the sides so they fell down to the floor.

  I was about to be naked for him, if not for my shoes, which thankfully slipped off with just a kick of my heels, and my panties.

  He had made me feel so vulnerable in such a sweet way, taking care of me like this, making me feel wanted. I wanted to show him just how happy I was for his help, for his attention.

  Was this what hooking up as a college girl felt like? I didn’t have anything like this during my year at community college, and something about Indianapolis guys always made me feel like they weren’t really my type.

  But Bryant was doing something to me that no guy had ever accomplished. Did this mean he was my type?

  I was ready.

  “Okay,” I whispered, taking steps backwards until I felt the bed. I lowered myself, sitting up in bed, my legs open to him.

  He followed me, removing his jersey so I could see his muscle-bound body, the quarterback with his incredibly built torso driving me wild at once.

  Bryant began to remove my panties just as he lowered his head between my legs, kissing my inner thighs.

  I moaned. I wanted so much more. I wanted him, I wanted Bryant Howard — I didn’t care about everything we had fought over in the past, that was all unimportant now.

  I wanted his body against mine, so when he pulled himself into bed with me I was glad to see that he was already removing his underwear.

  All this foreplay had left me breathless for him. I ran my hands over his back, feeling the muscles and tension he kept in them.

  He got into position, with me under him, with him kneeling over me, whispering at me to look at where his right hand was.

  I kept my eyes open, watching him, holding my breath, as his hand went from my neck to the center of my chest right down to between my legs, where I couldn’t resist reflexively grinding myself against his hand, skin on skin.

  He placed his thumb there where my heat and arousal was, and I moaned when his thumb started to touch me, really touch me.

  I closed my eyes, arcing my back for him.

  “No, Mia,” he said, shaking his head. “Look at where my hand is.”

  I opened my eyes again, and my gaze traveled just where he wanted me to. His right hand was cupped against my pussy, and it made me feel shy, knowing that, seeing that… then he moved it away.

  His strong hand grasped his cock and I realized now, compared to his already large hand, he was really, really big. He was packing a very serious cock, and I wanted nothing else but for him to be inside me.

  I was so wet that his palm had become slick with me, and he started to make a little show of stroking himself until he was really, really hard, and that was when he pinned me down, and told me to relax.

  The pleasure I felt when he pushed that huge cock inside me was unbelievable.

  12

  Bryant

  This felt incredible. Like no experience I had with any other girl in college had been. Even with Sam it wasn’t ever like this, even though she was a wild girl who was great in bed.

  I couldn’t compare Mia to anyone else. Mia was fucking amazing. She needed a tender touch, and I was feeling tender myself. I just wanted her to know how important it was for me to fix everything I had fucked up in the past.

  The bed made so much noise while I was on top of her, that we had to stop for a second and catch our breaths as we just laughed. Mia was giggling, and after she had been sad all night, this was a really fucking nice thing to hear.

  “Okay, wow, you’re so hard,” she said, looking down as I sat at the edge of her bed.<
br />
  “Yeah… I really am,” I said, in awe of my own hard-on. Sex was one of my favorite things, as much a physical pursuit as anything, just like football. It felt great when I was having sex, but having sex with Mia made it even more special.

  Was this room going to be where I would come back to, wanting more? I began to lift her up and sit her on my lap, teasing her with more kisses, and a hand massaging her inner thigh.

  “You’re so hot,” I told her.

  She giggled again. “No, you’re the one who’s hot.”

  I left it at that and lifted her by her waist, before lowering her down to my cock again. I wanted her to ride me, her petite body mounted to me as I used my powerful thighs to push thrust after thrust into her.

  She was really getting into the rhythm of this. This was the kind of sex I craved: not just wild and fun, but really strong, really intense. I wanted to connect with her, and I wanted to tell her just how fucking good she made me feel.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes, even as I started to lean back, propping my body up by my elbows against her mattress. This was Mia Cowell. Naked. Bared to me.

  Riding me like it was her one purpose in life.

  Just watching her like this drove me crazy. I had always imagined she had a cute little body under all her nerdy clothes, back in high school, but to actually see and experience for myself was something I never really expected. She was red-hot, her pale and soft skin contrasted to the more tan and rugged look of mine.

  I had to touch her. She liked it when we kissed, so I angled my mouth towards her and she got the hint, riding me closer to my base as she brought her head down, kissing me deep.

  Her tongue reached for mine, and I was impressed by just how not shy she was. So many of my college hookups had been girls who kinda just shut down and let the guy get what he want, especially after a night of nonstop hinting about how we were going to end up in bed. Inexperienced girls often just went with the flow, never really knowing what they wanted.