by C. Morgan
“You seem to be good at it,” he commented.
“That’s because I’m not vulnerable.” I laughed. “Not even a little bit. Honest, maybe, but not vulnerable.”
“Well, whatever you are, it works for you,” he said. “You’re very different from most other people around here, has anyone ever told you that?”
I laughed again. “Sure, but it’s usually not meant in a good way. I can come across as a bit of a medical snob sometimes but really, I don’t care what someone’s studying as long as they take it seriously. It’s odd that it’s a characteristic that makes me different at a school as competitive as this one, but apparently, it does. A lot of people around here seem to be happy to just scrape by with a pass and to spend the rest of their time partying.”
“A lot of people like me?” He quirked a brow at me knowingly. “It’s true, so you might as well say it. It’s not like you to hold back.”
“Fine.” I chuckled as I brought my hands up to my sides. “A lot of people like you, and I don’t understand it. It’s not like it’s easy to get in here, so why work so hard to be accepted and then risk throwing it all down the drain just to have an active social life?”
Maybe because it wasn’t as hard for some of us to get in here as it was for others? Instead of saying it and shattering the illusion I preferred to remain under about this place, however, he just grinned. “If you do it right, it’s not a risk. Besides, you might be looking forward to life beyond getting your degree, but it’s a well-known fact that college is supposed to be our last hurrah. One last chance to cut loose and live before we get bogged down by work and responsibility.”
My lips pressed together as I turned what he’d said over in my head. “If that’s true, it means that all of you see things from a point of view completely opposite to the way I see it?”
“I guess so,” he said. “On the upside, from your point of view, life starts when we walk out of here whereas for the rest of us, it feels like our lives will be ending then. I’d rather be looking at it from your side of things than from ours.”
“So change your point of view,” I said simply.
Brysen laughed, and it was a deep, easy sound that I liked hearing a lot more than I was willing to admit. His real smiles and real laughter put him in another class altogether. The cocky smirks and arrogant, dry guffaws had nothing on this, yet they were the ones he used by far the most often.
It was probably better that way, though. Since this was a guy I could really learn to like. It’s a good thing he’s not real. I’d have been in real trouble if he was going to stay this way.
Thankfully, I was sure he’d be back to being an asshole soon enough. Probably as soon as he’d gotten some rest and charged up the douchebag batteries again. For now, I’d just enjoy a low key dinner with a peer and try not to think about how much I disliked the person he could be sometimes.
We moved on to lighter topics after that, and I learned that we had more in common than just being from Massachusetts. Sure, there were still way more differences between us than similarities, but the amount of similarities still surprised me.
For example, Brysen actually enjoyed reading for fun when he had time and we liked a lot of the same authors. We also both preferred our eggs scrambled, would rather have winter for the rest of time than summer, and thought ducks were scary.
Our sandwiches were long gone and despite the fact that I’d promised myself I’d only stick around for the meal and then leave, I hadn’t even thought about going anywhere since we’d started talking. For how worn out he’d looked after the session, Brysen didn’t seem to be in any hurry either.
With some food and some drinks—non-alcoholic, of course—in his system, he even looked better than he had when he’d arrived for therapy.
Then again, contrary to what it felt like to patients at times, our treatment plans weren’t actually designed to obliterate them. They also weren’t supposed to hurt or to cause any physical damage to the injuries we were trying to heal. Obviously, it didn’t always feel that way in the moment and any patient would definitely be able to tell they’d done the exercises later, but the pain wasn’t supposed to last.
Even so, when the waitress came to tell us they were closing, I didn’t want to leave Brysen to his own devices to get back to wherever it was he lived. Regardless of the fact that he looked a lot better, I knew the exhaustion could come back to bite him any time.
“Can I take you back to your dorm? Or to your frat?” I asked once we were bundled in our jackets and on our way out. “I don’t actually know where you live, but I’d feel better if I at least walked you back.”
A part of me braced for a negative reaction, but it seemed like our strange truce would be holding up just a little while longer. Instead of snapping at me, he laughed. “Do I look like a frat guy to you? I’m in River View, you?”
“Edgewater Halls,” I said. “I should’ve known you’d be in the university version of the penthouse suites, though. Since you’re on my way back, I’m walking with you. It’s up to you if you’d like me to push the chair while I’m going to be here anyway.”
“Have at it,” he said. “I’ll owe you a favor, and I’m good for it. Promise.”
I rolled my eyes at him as I wrapped my fingers around the handles. “You still don’t owe me anything.”
We kept making small talk on our way to his dorm, our breaths coming out as white puffs in the frosty air. When we finally got to his building, I was glad he was facing away from me. I’d seen pictures of the inside of River View on the brochures and on the school’s website, but I’d never been in here.
It was breathtaking, and I was happy to marvel at it without risking any comments from him. His building was one of the older ones, just like mine, but his had been renovated recently. It was colloquially referred to around campus as the penthouse suites because all the rooms were these huge singles that came with all the bells and whistles.
Brysen’s room was even on the top floor, which made it seem like even more of an actual penthouse. He had his own living area, kitchenette, and ensuite bathroom. Talk about luxury.
The ceilings were high, the windows facing the river that ran across campus large and wide, and the floors gleaming, laminated wood. Students were allowed to bring their own furniture to these dorms, and his was ultra modern and all looked brand new.
A pang of jealousy shot through me when I took in his place. I loved Hadley and we’d gotten really close, but I’d have been able to benefit from this kind of solitude. And from not having to leave my room to shower, eat, or study.
“This is really nice,” I said when I caught him staring at me while I openly ogled his room. “I’m jealous. It’d be so easy to study in here for days without being disturbed.”
“It’s overrated,” he said, wheeling himself over to the bed in the corner. He cursed under his breath when he looked at it. “Think you could give me a hand here? I know I can do it myself, but it’s just easier if there’s someone I can hang onto.”
“Sure thing.” I shook the awe of his place away and focused on the needs of the boy who lived in it instead.
There was a look in his eyes I hadn’t seen before when I reached out to place my hand in his. It was searching. Curious. But also like he was issuing a silent challenge.
As I helped him up, he caught me off guard by pulling me down on top of him on the bed. I yelped, then laughed and swatted his shoulder as I tried to push myself off him again. “Very funny, jackass. You know you could hurt yourself with stunts like that, right?”
To my surprise, he didn’t just laugh with me and let me go. If anything, his grip on me tightened the more I tried to get off of him and I somehow ended up straddling his hips while staring into his eyes. Those complex green eyes with all the mysteries behind them.
“What are you doing?” I asked when his hands finally came to a rest on my lower back. “I wasn’t joking. You really could get hurt if we get into a tickle fight or something
right now. I definitely shouldn’t be sitting on top of you.”
“Stay with me for a while,” he said instead of acknowledging anything I’d just told him about re-injuring himself. Those freaking eyes of his ensnared me, though. Held me captive as he swiped his tongue across his plump lower lip. “I’m not a good guy, Ruby. I won’t ever look out for your best interests. I only ever look out for and go after what I want, and what I want right now, is you.”
My eyes stretched open so far that they’d start watering real soon if I didn’t blink, but I couldn’t see to move. Not even to perform such a basic, basic function as blinking. I stared at him in total disbelief but before I could give him an answer, one of his strong hands came to the back of my neck and he pulled me down until my lips crashed into his.
Just like it did before, his kiss made the world stop turning around me. It fried my brain and made my better judgment go up in smoke. The next thing I knew, my fingers were curling into his t-shirt and I was kissing him back.
At least he’s honest about it, I thought as I realized I was giving in to exactly what he wanted. Luckily, I don’t need him to look out for me. And it might be what he wants, but it’s what I want right now too.
Chapter 18
BRYSEN
Holy fuck, she’s actually going to do this. When I’d decided to just take a chance and go for it, I’d been ninety percent sure she was going to shoot me down. With a fucking bazooka.
But as I felt her fingers digging into my chest over my t-shirt and her mouth opening for me, I knew my gamble had paid off. The hot med student with the incredible ass and the take-no-prisoners attitude was finally going to give me what I’d wanted since I met her.
After tonight, I even liked her. Not in an I-want-to-date-her kind of way, but I liked her enough to fuck her even though I’d been planning on putting this off for awhile. I’d thought about it in the hospital—a lot, since it’d been over a month since I’d last gotten laid—and I’d decided that while I was horny as fuck, I wasn’t about to let anyone into my bed while I was basically an invalid.
For Ruby, though, I was willing to make an exception. Besides, she’d already seen my leg. Hell, she’d even seen it before it’d been stitched up, and she knew all about my limited range of movement. In fact, she probably knew more about the limits to my range of movement and what I could and couldn’t do right now than I did.
Which made her the perfect candidate for this. I’d finally get some fucking satisfaction despite my condition and I’d make it good for her too. We’d both be getting what we wanted out of this, even if I’d have to get creative to make up for not being able to do all that much.
“I’m going to need you to do everything I tell you to,” I murmured against her lips between kisses. “Regardless of the fact that I can’t really move, I’m in control here. Got it?”
“Yes,” she moaned into my mouth, her chest pressing into mine as I deepened our kiss. I’d been wanting to kiss her again since the first time I’d done it, and I wasn’t disappointed. She was just as good as I remembered her being.
Back in that bar, I’d kissed her to provoke a reaction. I’d seen a girl I wanted who I knew was, at the very least, physically attracted to me too, and I’d wanted to see what she’d do if I just laid one on her. It’d surprised me as much as it probably had her when the kiss had turned out to be so fucking explosive.
I’d decided then and there that I’d do anything in my power to make this happen, but with the accident and all, I never really thought it would. The god of sex himself must’ve been smiling down at me, though. Because here we were, making out on my bed with her soft tits mashed against my chest and her legs wrapped around my waist.
Since she knew exactly where my injury was, she was even making an effort to keep her weight off it even while her hips ground against mine. I felt the heat of her pussy against my dick, and it was making me harder than ever.
Or maybe that’s just because it’s been so fucking long. Between Tommy putting me on house arrest for break and the accident almost as soon as I got back, it wasn’t like I’d been seeing as much action as I was used to.
There was too much fabric in my way, though. I’d taken off my jacket while she’d been staring at my room like she was seeing the inside of Buckingham fucking palace for the first time, but other than that, we were both fully clothed.
Something that’s about to change. Pulling my head back into the mattress a little, I opened my eyes to look into hers.
“Strip for me,” I said. “I’d tell you to just sit up so I can take your shirt off myself, but that won’t work right now.”
She blinked away some of the lust that had been clouding her gaze, then nodded as she swung one of her legs over me and climbed off the bed. “Good thinking. There’s not a lot of space for me to put my weight without hurting you.”
I groaned. “Stop talking like my therapist and get naked, okay?”
“Bossy,” she muttered, but flashed me a sassy smile as she went to stand at the foot of the mattress. “Lucky for you, I’ve had my turn to be the bossy one today so I’m willing to play along.”
Propping myself up on my elbows, I raked my gaze over her still in her scrubs and cocked my head. “Keep talking, and I’ll make you pay for it in a few minutes. Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”
I said the last words slowly, emphasizing each one and watching as her pupils dilated and her breathing sped up under my gaze. There was also a flush spreading on her cheeks that told me she liked this even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“Well, I see your alpha personality extends past just starting fights,” she mumbled, but dropped her hands to the hem of her shirt. “That’s good, at least. It’s a lot more welcome in a bedroom than a bar room.”
Since she pulled the shirt over her head as she said it, I didn’t remind her about the punishment I’d be doling out if she kept talking. Soon enough, she’d find out for herself that when I gave a command, I expected it to be followed without her being a smart ass about it.
As she bared her torso to me, my gaze burned into her smooth, pale skin. She’d been wearing a long-sleeved shirt under the scrub top, but she had the good sense to pull both off together.
My mouth dried up, my dick turning into a steel rod as I watched her. She was even smaller than I’d realized, lean but not shaped like an ironing board. Her hips curved to a narrow waist and there was another soft curve up to her chest.
Her breasts were covered by a simple white bra. The practical kind that wasn’t meant to be sexy, but holy fuck, she wore it well. Reaching up, she pulled her hair elastic out and her blonde hair went tumbling to her shoulders before she gave her head a small shake to settle it.
As she hooked her arm behind her back, she looked into my eyes when the material over her tits gave way. A smirk tugged at her lips as she slowly pulled the straps off and dropped the bra on the ground.
When she finally lowered her arm, I came very close to swallowing my own tongue. Her breasts were perfectly round and perky, her nipples a dusky pink. They were puckered into hard nubs that I couldn’t wait to get my mouth on.
A part of me wanted to snap at her to hurry up, but this was just too good to rush past. It was obvious she was enjoying the tease and frankly, so was I.
My gaze was drawn down again when she slid her fingers into her waistband, her legs moving in a way that told me she was kicking off her shoes before she lowered her pants. She swayed her hips just a little as she rolled her pants and her panties off at the same time.
When she straightened up, completely naked now, my heart was pounding and my cock was throbbing. I felt the pre-cum leaking out of me, but I still wasn’t ready to stop looking at her just yet. I didn’t know what surprised me more, the fact that she was shaven bare or the tiny butterfly tattoo on her hip.
“I thought you didn’t like being pampered,” I said finally, my voice coming out hoarse and harsh.
She glanced down at herself, then chuckled as
she lifted her gaze back to mine and shrugged. “If you’ve ever been waxed before, you’ll know that it doesn’t count as being pampered. I try to keep regular appointments for it for myself, because I like it. It feels clean.”
“The tattoo?”
“Mexico,” she said as if that explained it. “After graduation. I thought you didn’t want to talk?”
“I don’t,” I grunted, raising a hand to beckon to her. “Come here.”
While she moved back to the bed, I sat up and pulled off my shirt before shucking my shoes. As the mattress at my feet dipped when she climbed back on, I undid my pants and pushed them and my underwear to my thighs. It was as far as I could reach without flopping around trying to take them the rest of the way off without wincing or hurting myself.
My cock twitched when I looked up at her again and realized she was staring at it. The flush on her cheeks and chest was a deeper red now, and her lips were parted as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
I didn’t want to ask for her help with my pants, so I figured I’d just keep them where they were and hope to everything that was holy that the jeans didn’t chafe against my scar while we were going at it. That would suck, and fucking ruin it for me.
Ruby started crawling back up the bed, presumably to straddle me again, but then she stopped and brought her eyes up to mine. They were dark with lust and her lids were heavy, but she motioned toward my pants. “I know this is your show and all. It’s fine if you’re not usually one of those guys who like to get all the way naked, but can I take those off? This is going to be precarious enough as it is. I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks and jeans don’t exactly have a lot of give.”
“Fine. Do it,” I said like I was the one doing her a favor. “As soon as they’re off, come sit on my face. I’m going to need to get better acquainted with that pretty pussy before I get inside her.”
