The Campus Jock: A College Bad Boy Romance

by Serena Silver

  “Not at all,” Bradley said, trying to sound suaver than he actually felt. There was just something about Jasmine that threw him off, made him uncomfortable in the right way.

  “You know,” Jasmine said. “We don't have to do anything if you don't want to.”

  She started to take her hand away, but Bradley quickly slipped his fingers between hers held her hand gently.

  “It's not that at all,” Bradley said. “I just don't want to make the wrong impression by doing something stupid. And, I don't know. You are kind of an intimidating person.”

  Jasmine laughed at this, throwing her head back, then letting it come down to rest against Bradley's shoulder.

  “Who's the big bad SEAL now?” Jasmine said. “I'm just joking. I think it's sweet that you don't want to leave the wrong impression. I know that my father being the General and all makes it easy to be intimidated by me, but please know that I'm an easy going person who knows full well what I'm doing. I'm not some empty headed bimbo running around seducing every man I meet. I saw you today, when you were in the cab with James, and told my father I wanted to meet you because you're so good looking. There is something about redheads, you know what I mean? Your hair, and your freckled cheeks—I mean, you must get this all the time.”

  Bradley tried thinking of what to say next, but at the last second, he realized what he really needed to do. So he took Jasmine's jaw between his thumb and fingers, gently, and lifted her face to his so he could kiss her. It went just as well as Bradley had wanted it to, as well as he could have imagined it. For a few moments he wasn't even sure where he was, and then he came back to reality. Jasmine was apparently becoming hot and took off her clothes smoothly and quickly. Not that she'd been wearing many clothes, to begin with.

  “You'll have to excuse me if I choose to sit around in my bra and panties,” Jasmine said. “You can take a little load off if you want to, as well.”

  Jasmine winked at him again, and before Bradley could think to stop himself, he undressed as well. But unlike Jasmine, Bradley couldn't hide his arousal. His hard-on jutted out in his underwear, and for a few moments, he was bashful. Then, without saying anything, Jasmine got on her knees in front of Bradley. Before she touched him, she smiled up at him sweetly as if to ask permission. Bradley nodded, and only then did Jasmine pull down the elastic strap of his underwear to free his throbbing member. Bradley couldn't believe how hard he was and had to laugh with his erection shot up and hit Jasmine on the face.

  “Oh my God!” Jasmine said laughing. “I cannot believe that just happened!”

  Then, just as quickly as Bradley's erection had sprung up, Jasmine went down on him. She sucked his member with the kind of enthusiasm that people show when they're trying to impress the person that they are with. Bradley was impressed, and even a little overwhelmed. While he knew that his body needed foreplay to get going, Jasmine was so good at what she was doing that he worried that it might bring him closer to the edge than he wanted to be at this point. That meant that he needed to think of some kind of excuse to slip away for a moment, but thinking wasn't Bradley's strong suit at the moment. His mind was bending from the pleasure that Jasmine was giving him.

  “All right! All right!” Bradley said.

  Jasmine pulled away from his member, the throbbing tip slipping from her lips with a popping noise.

  “Too much?” she asked innocently.

  They moved to the bed and Jasmine jumped onto all fours, bending her back so that her ass stuck up in the air, looking every bit like a model. Bradley couldn't believe his luck. He slowly used his teeth to take off her panties, then grabbed a condom. He knew that he needed to keep things on the up and up, lest an accident happen that he wouldn't be able to take back. When he slid into her, Jasmine groaned and pushed back into him.

  “How does it feel?” Bradley asked. “Is it all right?”

  “Oh my God,” Jasmine said. “I had no idea you were so hung. Jesus fucking Christ you feel good.”

  With that Bradley started up the rhythm of his strokes, slowly increasing the tempo as things progressed. He couldn't believe how turned on he was, and it wasn't until a few minutes had passed that he realized that he hadn't even reached forward to play with Jasmine's breasts yet. Taking a second to slow down enough, Bradley reached forward and unhooked Jasmine's bra. Her breasts fell out, pushing the bra free from her body. It slid down her arms to rest under her, forgotten in the heat of passion. Bradley felt both of her breasts, squeezing and kneading them gently. Jasmine moaned and thrust herself back against Bradley.

  “Oh, baby,” Bradley said. “You're so fucking hot. I can't believe that I'm so lucky right now.”

  “Fuck, oh my God,” Jasmine said breathlessly. “Fuck me as hard as you can. I want it. Give it to me!”

  Bradley didn't need any further prodding. He quickly sped up his tempo to a crescendo, trying to keep up that pace as long as he could. It wasn't a short amount of time, but it wasn't as long as Bradley had been hoping for when he felt the tell-tale sensation that always comes before a really intense orgasm. He tried to say something, but he couldn't get his jaw to work he was in such tension during the delivery of the final few thrusts right before he came. Instead of any words issuing forth from Bradley's lips, instead, it was something strange, like a moan mixed with a small shout.

  Jasmine took it as a signal to thrust back into Bradley, pushing up against him as he pulled into her. She let out her own cries of ecstasy as the orgasm rocked her body. It was something incredible for Bradley to watch, something out of a movie, but not just porn. Something out of an erotic film where there was real production value and quality.

  When they were both spent they lay on the bed quietly, just being near each other. Bradley caressed Jasmine's elegant flanks as her breathing returned to normal. Before he could think better of it, Bradley let himself be tugged off toward sleep. Had he been more on guard he wouldn’t have slept so easily. But, because of his smitten state, Bradley wasn't ready to ward off sleep's tug, and he was pulled in. And so ever so slowly, he drifted off to the land of nod, to dream about everything from what his child would look like, to what could happen on the job the next day.

  Chapter Four

  The morning came, and they said goodbye. It wasn't like how most one night stands end. There wasn't shame or guilt. They both wanted to see each other again, and that wasn't something they would normally say, or even elude to without less than full intent.

  Training for Bradley started the following Monday. After spending the weekend lounging about his room, or wandering about the base, it felt good to run simulations of taking an oil rig. The first few had him and a small team breach and clear from the bottom up, which was the way most of the oil “hops” actually went. Sometimes there would be a helicopter there to help the SEALs with an aerial insertion.

  The last time through the simulation a few of Bradley's team had been killed, and this time he was thinking hard about how to get through the first door without having to breach it. That seemed impossible to him as he pounded up the first flight of stairs, the team of four other men behind him. They would either have to catch the opposition forces unaware or figure out a way to pry the door open. Otherwise, the guard kept seeing them and retreating behind the reinforced steel door.

  Typically, Bradley would use incendiary grenades to burn through the unyielding material of the door and its bulwark. But that had been deemed out of play because he couldn't damage the “set” they were practicing on. Bradley didn't see another way to make it through the door unless they went around it. Or up. He hadn't thought of that. As his boots bounded the steps of the second flight of stairs, he wondered if the rest of the team would be down to try and lift one another up to the next level and skip the door completely. When they got to the next stairwell, Bradley turned and addressed the group.

  “I have an idea,” he said. “Instead of messing around with the door and its guard, let’s go around the back and figure out a way to get to
the next level undetected.”

  The team agreed. They sneaked around the platform above them, where they kept having to deal with the steel door, and this time made their way to the back of the rig. There they found a ladder they used to ascend to the next level. Once there, Bradley realized that that was what they were supposed to do, and the “set” was made to help them utilize the element of surprise. The General had spoken with him privately before training had started, had told him that he wanted Bradley to work on making the SEAL teams more explosive in their abilities. It had been a pretty interesting talk, one where Bradley had done the listening and the General had done all the talking. But what had made it interesting was that the General had leveled with him, told him that the way training had pushed a brute force approach was wrong, and how they needed to be able to engage problems with solutions that were a little outside of the linear path of thinking that training usually took.

  Now, as Bradley and his team slunk around the oil rig crouched low. They could keep sneaking up and up to the objective if ladders allowed, and even if there weren't ladders they could still stack things to make it easier to lift themselves up. The day's runs hadn't been that successful, and this could be the last one, Bradley realized, so he needed to make it count. The team followed Bradley's lead, and eventually, they were at the oil rig's control tower. It didn't take long to sneak in and download what they needed from the computer system, but as soon as they had what they'd come for, everything went wrong.

  Lights flashed, and sirens wailed. Bradley and the team took up a defensive position. Their rifles were filled with paintball rounds, and they aimed them at the points of entry—tops of stairs, dark hallways lit by red lights circling on the wall. Someone had pulled the emergency alarm, and the whole oil rig was now lit up like Bradley had never seen it before, although the halls stayed dark.

  Bradley and the team expected the opposition forces to storm the bridge, but instead, the alarm went off, and all the lights turned on. The General slowly walked up the stairs and slowly clapped.

  “Good job, gents,” the General said. “I know it isn't easy to figure out there is another option, especially after a bad run, but you did great. And you, Bradley! Could you have handled that any better? You got to the objective without firing a shot!”

  The General slapped him on the back, and the team congratulated each other. They made their way to the bottom of the set and had a debriefing where Bradley's leadership was praised, and the team was spoken of highly. It was a good night, and when the team broke for the night, Bradley felt good about how things were going. The General talked about more training, but also said that they needed to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. This put Bradley and the team on uneasy ground—when would they go?

  Bradley made his way back to his room slowly. When he got there, he wanted to speak with James, but all of his things were gone. It appeared that James had taken off during training to whatever life outside the world of SEALs would offer. Bradley wished he could have sent him off with a farewell and a handshake, but Bradley knew that life wasn't always like that. Sometimes there weren't neat and perfect endings and appropriate goodbyes. Sometimes there wasn't anything like that at all.

  Bradley was starting to wonder if he was cut out to be a team leader. The training schedule was growing more and more intense, with no end in sight. There was little doubt in Bradley's mind that someone was going to be injured during one of the mockup training sessions. Bradley didn't want that on his conscience, so he'd decided to schedule a meeting with the General.

  Now that he was waiting for the old officer to show up, sitting alone with just his thoughts, Bradley was having second thoughts about the meeting as well. He'd been told to meet at a waterfall just outside the training center. It was a beautiful place, but that didn't make it soothing. The roar of the water tumbling down rocks to smash into a pool of water below conjured feelings of anxiety deep in Bradley's psyche. He wasn't sure if the General liked the place for its positive qualities, or its negatives qualities—he was the kind of guy who wanted to keep people a little off balance, and a little distant.

  Finally, after a half hour of waiting, the General's car appeared around the bend of the road that led to the parking lot. Bradley watched him park and walk up the stairs to the public area. The General took a moment to admire the view—he closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and smiled to himself—before joining Bradley at a table.

  “Bradley!” the General said. “I know what you're about to say. It's a lot of work, and you need some time off. And let me tell you something, you've earned it. There isn't any better time to take some time off than if you feel like you've been run ragged.”

  Bradley shifted on his side of the table, uncomfortable on the wooden bench. It wasn't that he needed time off, he just needed to tone down what was going on during training, but he wasn't sure how to say that to the General because he couldn't just come out and say it.

  “It's not that, sir,” Bradley said.

  Bradley decided that if the General could take a moment to collect himself, then so could he. So Bradley inhaled and held it in for a moment, focusing his vision on the horizon and thinking about what he was trying to get at before he said anything that could be misconstrued as cowardice or a work-shy attitude.

  “Sir, it's just that training has been intense lately. And I'm not adverse to that, but I feel like it's building up to a crescendo. The only reason I feel this way is that I've trained with Special Operations before, and know that soon we'll switch from simulation rounds to live rounds. And, although that training is good to go as well, I think that if we're going to make leaps like we need to slow down the pace, or the intensity just a little bit.”

  The General sat quietly. His eyes narrowed on Bradley. This obviously wasn't what he'd been expecting.

  “I thought you were going to ask for leave,” the General said. “But here you are, asking to take control of training. You're a leader, Bradley. A natural one at that.”

  Bradley wasn't sure that he was asking to take control of training, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to bring that up and spoil the moment. The General seemed very happy to find out that Bradley wanted to work more, not less. Bradley wasn't sure if the General knew what he was getting at, so he decided to make another stab at it just to make sure.

  “I have no problem taking over that portion, sir,” Bradley said. “But I want us to be more efficient, and more fluid, at the same time. Right now I feel like we're sticking very rigidly to a training program that was written up by someone who knew they would never have to do anything like it.”

  The General nodded.

  “I agree with you,” he said. “I know that you have the best for your men in mind, and that means a lot to me. Obviously, as you know, and as we've talked about, there have been problems with losing SEALs. I don't want to lose anymore, and God knows we can't afford to replace any more of you guys. The attrition rate is crippling the operation.”

  “Well, sir, not if you don't allow it,” Bradley said. “And the best way to do that is let me handle the training schedule. That, I think would be a big step in the right direction.”

  “I already put you in charge of that,” the General said with a smile. “No way to talk your way out of it now!”

  They both watched the sunset. It was beautiful, and through rays of red and gold up into the sky, staining the western horizon a rust color that was only seen in the most spectacular sunsets. Bradley hoped that the General was being sincere about letting him handle things from now on. What he didn't want to have happen, and what had happened to him in the past during similar situations, was that he found out the promises were all hollow, with no real substance behind them.

  The General seemed like he was content with his decision, as he pulled out his pipe and started smoking. There wasn't a lot else to talk about, except for Jasmine, and Bradley didn't want to speak about Jasmine with her father at the moment. But the more that the Ge
neral sat there puffing on his pipe, the more Bradley realized that the General was going to force a conversation about his daughter.

  “You know,” the General began. “I really do approve you seeing Jasmine. And I know that things right now are a little early on, and you two might not want to put a lot of pressure on it right from the get-go.”

  Bradley wanted nothing more than to get up and leave. The sun was still setting, birds were still circling around them, some of them diving down the length of the waterfall to dart their beaks into the water and spear a fish. It was still a nice moment, and he didn't want it to end with a jilted conversation about something the General had no business talking to him about.

  But it wasn't that simple, and Bradley knew it. He remembered the words of James, how he'd told Bradley how Jasmine had cost some of his friend’s rank. Now Bradley was starting to think that maybe he would get bit as well.

  “I'm not trying to pressure anything,” the General said. “But I do want to let you know that, if you break my little girl's heart, I'll break you.”

  With that, the General got up and headed back down the stairway to his car. That was exactly what Bradley had been afraid of. He didn't mind if the General spoke to him respectfully about what was going on between him and his daughter, but he sure as hell didn't need threats to reinforce the idea that fucking over Jasmine would be a really great way to turn an easy duty station into a really terrible one. As Bradley watched the light disappear in the west, he wasn't so sure about the General anymore. And he knew that he needed to speak with Jasmine.

  Chapter Five

  “I hate it when he does this.”

  Jasmine was sitting across from him at a small coffee shop that one of her friends ran. The shop had closed about an hour ago, but they were still hanging out and talking. The place often stayed open for customers who were regulars if one of the employees didn't have anything going on. That was the good part about working at a coffee shop that treated you well, Bradley and Jasmine were told, sometimes the employees liked it at work more than they did at home.