Crushed (The Rushed New Adult and College Romance Series Book 2)

by Gina Robinson

  I let him pull my blouse off over my head and helped him shed his shirt. He tossed it onto the pile my clothes were making on the floor.

  "Shit, you're beautiful." He kissed the tops of my breasts.

  I was too impatient for a slow seduction. I needed things fast and hard. Impersonal. I unfastened the front hook of my bra and slid it off over my arms, standing before him and giving him a good look.

  His eyes became even darker and rounder. I watched the gentle rhythm of his chest rising and falling, running my fingers over his chest. I sucked his nipples until he gasped and unzipped my jeans. I pulled back and shimmied out of them, letting him watch my breasts bounce. Bouncing them for his sake.

  "Get out of those boxers." I tried to distance myself from the emotions that could break me.

  He stepped out of them and kicked them aside. "Get out of those thong panties."

  "Why? Too much of an impediment for a big guy like you?" I liked taunting him.

  He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into his big, hard boner, sliding a finger beneath the waistband of the panties and inside of me. "You're already wet."

  "I've been wet since the car." I squeezed his finger.

  "Fuck." His breathing was shallow. He pulled his finger out and my panties down.

  I kicked them aside.

  He pulled me into him and took a step back toward his bed. I read his intention—he wanted me on top.

  "No." I shook my head.

  "No? Now?" He looked incredulous.

  Whatever Dak was, he wasn't a rapist. No meant no. I knew I could trust him that way. "Save the story about how much pain you'll be in if we don't finish." I gave him a seductive smile. "I'm not saying no to sex. I'm saying no to that way of having sex." I grabbed a pillow from the bed and tossed it on the floor. "We do this my way."

  I ran my fingers along his jaw line, wanting him. Wanting his love. If I couldn't have that, I was going to give him something to remember. His body would always want mine.

  I ran my fingers down his body as I bent to suck his dick. Guys didn't need blowjobs, but they sure made them happy. I grabbed his butt and licked his dick like a big, pulsing ice cream cone. I sucked and licked until he moaned. I teased him to the edge. "Don't you dare come. I'm going to let you have me like no guy ever has."

  I pulled away, stood, and turned my back to him as I went down on all four on the floor.

  "What—"

  "Run with me." I put my head on the pillow. "Come closer. Back up behind me and hold still. Let me do the work for now. Your turn is coming." I laughed at the double meaning as I went up in a partial headstand and walked my legs up until they were around his waist.

  "We're having a naked wheelbarrow race?" His voice was ragged. "Should I grab your ankles?"

  "No." I bit my lip and swallowed hard, concentrating, squeezing him between my legs. I rested my arms next to my head on the pillow and positioned myself over his dick. "Grab my hips and hang on."

  "Naked hot yoga?" He grabbed my hips.

  "Stop talking." I rubbed his dick between my legs, positioning him as I curled my legs against his chest, my head still on the floor on the pillow. This was an impersonal position, but erotic. Which was exactly what I wanted. No eye contact. No face-to-face. Just sex. This position was supposed to hit my G-spot and give me the climax of my life.

  His hands were hot on my hips. I was totally wet for him. I took a deep breath and slid him inside me.

  He swore beneath his breath.

  I gently moved my hips. "What are you waiting for, QB? Fuck my brains out."

  He didn't need any more encouragement. He pounded into me so deeply my G-spot went wild. I rode him, upside down with my head on the pillow, letting him ram into me again and again.

  Sex in this position shouldn't have been easy. Our rhythm should have been off and taken time to find. But it wasn't. Our timing was perfect. We moved like we belonged together. Almost like we were one. As the blood rushed to my head, every part of me tingled.

  Wave after wave of pleasure built with each thrust. The rush was a total high. My arms went shaky. My head pounded into the pillow. Just when I thought I couldn't take another thrust without climaxing, the biggest orgasm of my life crashed over me. I moaned and called out his name. "Dak, Dak, Dak!"

  "Morgan!"

  I swear I felt him ejaculate into me.

  I rested my head on the pillow, my arms shaking. My heart breaking. My resolve leaving. My body sated in a way it never had been.

  He pulled out. I slid my legs down him and rested on the floor, curled over my legs, arms outstretched, trying to catch my breath and my sense of reason.

  "Wow!" He sounded stunned.

  I thought he would leave me there. I pictured him flopping back on the bed behind him. Instead, he scooped me into his arms and carried me to the bed.

  He set me down gently, like a true lover, and lay down beside me, cradling me in his arms. "I have never had such an earth-shaking orgasm before. That was…indescribable."

  I felt myself breaking. I couldn't look at him.

  He brushed my hair back out of my eyes. "Is that a bruise on your forehead?"

  "Is it?" My voice was shaky, like the rest of me.

  "Could be a floor burn." He kissed it gently. "How will we ever explain this?"

  How could we explain anything? I tried not to look at him. He was being too tender. Too lover-like. Part of me wanted him to put on his pants and act like a hookup, impatient for me to go. Part of me was begging him to love me.

  He looked me in the eye. "I love you." His voice was husky. He looked almost as surprised by what he'd said as I was.

  I covered my face with my hands and started to cry. "It's too much."

  He pulled me against his chest and held me tight, with his hands cradling my head. "I'm overwhelmed, too. It will be all right."

  It would. Once my period started.

  I love you. That was what all guys said after hot sex. It was only code for thank you. I knew that. But I hoped…

  Hope was a terrible bitch.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dakota

  I held Morgan until she stopped crying. What the fuck had I said to upset her? I love you? Yeah, said after mind-blowing sex, it sounded like total BS. But I meant it. I was as surprised as she was. In that moment, anyway, I meant it. Would it last? The thought scared the shit out of me. Morgan was the one girl who could break my heart. I'd already let her get too close.

  I stroked her hair and held her. I was ready to go again. And it was blatantly obvious. Holding a naked girl as hot as Morgan, I would have to have been dead not to get another boner. I couldn't get the sight of her hips and her toned back out of my mind. Or the way she felt when I entered her. Or the way she'd rocked me to my core. But I also felt tender and protective of her.

  She stopped crying. I brushed her lips with a gentle kiss. She gave me a sad smile and disentangled herself from me.

  She glanced at my dick and away again just as quickly as she sat up. "I have to go."

  I grabbed her arm as she slid off the bed. "Stay."

  She shook her head, shook off my arm, and stood up to look around for her clothes.

  "Finding your panties—ten points." My dick still hadn't realized it wasn't getting a second shot at her.

  She made a distracted noise as she put her bra on, totally missing my humor.

  I slid off the bed and grabbed my boxers and jeans. "I'll walk you home."

  She'd found her jeans and was slipping into them. She shook her head. "No, that's okay. I'll be fine."

  "Drive you, then?" I teased. I wanted her to stay.

  "Don't you dare!" She pointed her finger at me, and her voice was fierce, like she didn't see I was kidding. Her eyes were moist again. "That's what got us into this in the first place. I broke my no-hookup rule…never mind."

  I grabbed her hand and kissed her finger with the lightest of kisses, trying to ignore the barb about hooking up. I sure as hell d
idn't see it that way. But I knew she was right. I wasn't ready for a relationship with her. "I'd get behind the wheel again if it would get me laid like that again."

  "Don't press your luck." She slid her blouse on and bent to pick up a shoe.

  I grabbed my socks and sat to put them on as she slid her second shoe on and grabbed her coat.

  "See you around." She blew me a kiss and raced out the door before I could stop her.

  I thought about going after her, but what was I going to say? So I let her go, wondering if I'd just had a pity fuck. Wondering if she'd been imagining I was Zach. Wondering if I was ever going to get over that.

  You had your one fuck, buddy, I told myself. She's out of your system now.

  But I lied. I couldn't stop thinking about her. She was in my blood now. I couldn't get her out. I was a weak guy. But I'd be damned if I texted or called her. She clearly didn't want me.

  Morgan

  Dakota didn't call or text or send me a smoke signal. Not like I thought he would. That was the way of hookups. I knew that. I had been a convenient lay to forget Alexis. Just like the time before. Nothing more.

  But my heart broke all the same. Somewhere along the way, I had been falling in love with him.

  Of course, I'd used him, too. But it, and all the vitamin C, hadn't worked. I felt better, though. Except for being desperately period-less, I felt normal. All those male hormones in Dak's cum had apparently cured me. The nausea disappeared. I had energy again.

  By Tuesday morning I had convinced myself I wasn't pregnant. I'd imagined it. If my period didn't start by Thanksgiving, I would see my doctor. I mean, if I was preggo, wouldn't I still feel crappy? I wasn't far enough in to feel better.

  I needed to think. I needed coffee and the buzz of disinterested people around me. I needed to get out of the house and study where my brain could fly. I went to The College Grind, ordered a pumpkin-spice latte, and found a table as far out of the draft of the door as I could. Which is to say, a cold breeze blew in every time the door opened. There was no safe spot.

  I hung my coat on the back of my chair and took out my laptop. I was quickly in the zone, deep into working on a paper. In that mode, I shut the rest of the world out. Someone could call my name and I wouldn't hear it. I ignored the cold blasts that clutched their way to my small corner of the coffee shop.

  I was reaching mindlessly for another sip of my latte when the worst cramp of my life hit out of nowhere. I gasped and doubled over in mortal pain, clutching my abdomen.

  Breathe, breathe, breathe!

  I felt the surge of warm blood soaking my panties and leggings. It happened so quickly I didn't have time to react.

  In the next instant, I was sitting in a pool of warm blood, mortified. I had soaked through the panty liner I was wearing. The pain was so bad I could barely move.

  "Morgan?" Dakota stood over me.

  Crap. My heart stopped again. How was it possible to be horrified and overjoyed at the same time? I needed him in the worst way. I repeated the breathe mantra as my face flamed. I forced myself to look up at him.

  His face that was pale with worry.

  I opened my mouth, with no idea what I was going to say, just as another cramp hit and took away my voice. I moaned and, tears welling in my eyes, grabbed my purse. Blood, my blood, dripped off the chair. I swayed, dizzy and nauseous.

  "Go!" Dakota took my arm and helped me up with incredible gentleness. "I'll take care of this." He took his coat off and wrapped it around my waist as I stood. So gentlemanly, like we could cover what was happening.

  I ran to the bathroom, which was mercifully empty. I had never been so embarrassed and so thrilled at the same time. I slid into one of the two stalls and pulled a tampon out of my purse. I managed to get to the toilet just as another cramp hit. I looked between my legs into the red water. There were clots, big ones.

  No, I thought. No, I can't be. This is just a bad period. I'd had bad ones before.

  I grabbed my phone and looked up what to do for miscarriages and menstrual clots. My hands shook as I typed and prayed. The screen swam before my eyes. Before eight weeks—I counted back, less than eight—the fetus should spontaneously abort without medical intervention or the need for medical attention. Seek medical help if the clots got too large or there was hemorrhaging.

  I'm fine, I told myself. But I was shaking and scared as I cleaned up. How was I going to get home? How could I walk out of the bathroom with the butt of my leggings stained with blood and my legs shaking? I put my head in my hands and brushed back a tear.

  The door to the ladies' room slammed open.

  "Morgan! Morgan, are you all right?" Dak!

  His footsteps had never sounded so good. They stopped just outside my stall until his Toms peeked beneath the door. If they had been nervous and twitchy, I think I would have lost it. But his feet were firmly planted, like a knight to the rescue.

  I blushed to my toes. This wasn't exactly the kind of throne I'd hoped to be sitting on when my knight in shining armor arrived. Or the most romantic damsel-in-distress situation. I forced myself to reply, but I broke up and my voice cracked, betraying me. I wasn't brave at all. "I'm…I'm fine."

  He swore beneath his breath. "Shit, Morgs. Don't lie. You sound crappy."

  "Bad choice of words." I grabbed a square of toilet paper and dabbed at my eyes. "I am on the toilet."

  "Shit!" His voice was tender.

  "Watch it!"

  I pictured him smiling. His Toms inched closer. The stall door rattled. His fingers appeared over the edge. "Need any help in there?"

  "No! Are you crazy? What are you going to do? Rush in here and wipe my ass?"

  His fingers were white. He shook the stall door like he was ready to pry it off. "I'm serious. Look, I have change. Want me to buy you a tampon and toss it over the stall?"

  I panicked. "Don't peek over the stall! No one sees me sitting on the john."

  "Shy?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I've seen everything you own."

  "Modest. I have to preserve some mystery."

  "There are two kinds of girls—those who let you see them pee and those who don't."

  "Profound. You should put that on a T-shirt."

  "Maybe I will."

  "Damn, now you know my secret—anyone sees me pee and I lose my superpowers." I smiled through my tears.

  "Seriously," he said. "Need a tampon?"

  "Thanks, I have my own." I smiled through my tears.

  "Okay. I'll wait for you here."

  I didn't have the courage to send him away. I nearly slumped in relief—he wasn't going to leave me alone.

  The door to the bathroom opened. I heard a girl gasp.

  "We'll just be a minute," Dakota said to her, then mumbled something I couldn't hear.

  Footsteps receded as I flushed the toilet and pulled up my soaked leggings. I was still blushing when I came out and handed Dakota his coat. "I should wash that—"

  "Don't worry about it."

  My legs were shaky. I was trembling as I walked to the sink and washed my hands. I couldn't look at Dakota. My face flamed.

  He cleared his throat, like he was nervous and embarrassed, too. And uncertain what to do or say. "Everything's cleaned up out there."

  I still couldn't look directly at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw he was wearing both his backpack and mine. I nodded. "Thank you."

  He gently caught my arm. "This, what happened, seems extreme." He paused. "I'm taking you to student health."

  "No!" I panicked. I didn't need to go. If I went, they'd be able to tell for sure whether I was miscarrying or not. And I didn't want to know. "I have heavy periods." Would my face ever stop flaming? TMI. "I'm fine."

  "You keep saying that." He took a deep breath. "I'm not convinced."

  I reached for a paper towel. "I was caught by surprise." Not a total lie. "I'm usually more prepared." It had never happened like this.

  "I'm taking you home. No arguing."

  I
nodded, meek and pleased. I needed him.

  He was holding my coat. He held it for me while I slipped into it.

  I stared at the door, trembling at the thought of walking out in public.

  He put his arm around my shoulder. Why did it feel so damn good?

  "Screw them, Morgs. People understand. This shit happens." He squeezed my shoulders. "Put your arms around my neck. I'll carry you out."

  I could have argued, but I had neither the mental nor physical strength to. I put my arms around him and bent at the knees so he could pick me up.

  He carried me out of the ladies' room and through The College Grind, out the door and into the freezing day and biting wind.

  "You can't carry me all the way home," I said.

  "Watch me," he said.

  I rested my head against his shoulder.

  Dakota

  I didn't even notice Morgan's weight as I carried her to the Delta Delta Psi house. She cuddled into me and felt too damn good in my arms. Shit, I was worried about her. She looked pale and in pain.

  I carried her up the steps to the house and kicked open the front door with my foot, startling a couple of girls who were sitting in the living room. I ignored them and headed for the stairs.

  One of them rushed at me, trying to block my way. "You can't go up there."

  I glared at her. "The hell I can't. Morgan's not feeling well. I'm not setting her down until she's in her bed. She needs someone to sit with her. Is Victoria around?"

  The girl took one look at Morgan's pale face and backed off. "I'll find her. Or someone."

  I brushed past her and up the stairs with our two backpacks bouncing against my back. I'd never been upstairs in the Delta Delta Psi house. "Your room or the sleeping porch?"

  "My room. I have a bed."

  "Which way?"

  "Third floor." She gave me directions.

  "Guy on the floor!" I yelled as I carried her through the fire door onto the floor.

  The class day was in full swing. The sorority was nearly empty. No half-dressed girls in sight. I caught glimpses of rooms through open doors as I carried Morgan to the end of the hall. Blow dryers, makeup, clothes strewn around. Zach had described it to me. He hadn't exaggerated about the girlie mess.