by Anne Mercier
I smirk. "Paybacks, Liv."
She wiggles her eyebrows and accepts a cup of punch from Dekker. What has gotten into her tonight?
I spot Brax walking in the door and nearly spit out my drink laughing.
"Oh my… this is…" Olivia states, laughing hysterically at my friend walking into the room in a Superman outfit, complete with tights, red cape, and boots.
Alexa starts snapping pictures and I wonder just how many she's already gotten of me. I am so fucked.
"Nice skirt," Brax taunts.
"Are you fucking kidding me, dude? You're in tights."
"I'm fucking awesome. I'm Superman," he responds.
"Superman wears tights. Superman's a pussy," I tell him, purposefully razzing him. Truth is, Superman comes in a close second to Batman for me, with Iron Man third.
Brax leans back and grabs his junk. "You see this? This right here is out there for all the world to see in my tights. It's like live bait."
"They smash up your balls and dick, fuck that. These spanks are uncomfortable enough."
Brax shrugs. "Maybe you're just afraid to put it all out there—afraid you won't measure up. Don't you worry about it, bro. I'll distract them and lure them all in this direction."
I snort at his jab. "Lure all the chicks you want. I'm on a date," I remind him, putting my arm around Olivia and pulling her in close to my side—she's still giggling. "What's so funny?"
"D-Dekker…" is all she gets out.
"What about me, darlin'?" he asks with a shit-eating grin.
"You… you've got," she laughs again and Alexa joins in.
"What've I got? All the moves? I know it, baby. A hot bod?" he asks, flexing his muscles.
I rub Olivia's back while she tries to calm herself, her hand pressed to her belly.
"You've got…" she takes a breath, "moobies!"
She says it so loud, people turn to look. Alexa reaches out and pats Seth's tits, then lifts them.
"What the fuck?" he replies with a frown. "These are some fucking firm pecs, ladies."
Liv shakes her head.
"Feel 'em," he offers.
She shakes her head again.
He steps forward, grabbing her hand. "Feel them." He lifts her hand and puts them on his chest.
"Is this really happening? Maybe this is some fucked up dream," I say aloud to no one.
"Hmm," Liv says. "They are firm, but they're so big."
Dekker shrugs. "I can't help it if my mammaries are working overtime."
Brax shakes his head, laughing. "Dude, you sound like a chick."
"Fuck off. I'm sexy," Seth replies, then walks off.
"What the fuck is going on?" I ask. "I feel like I've entered an episode of The Twilight Zone."
"Nope. No such luck," Liv answers. "Just frat party funkiness at it's finest."
I look down at her and nod. I can't fight the grin.
"You look hot," I tell her and her grin slips a bit, her eyebrow going up.
"Think so?" she asks.
"Yup."
"You should feel her ass," Alexa blurts out.
"Alexa!" Liv scolds.
"What? It's all tight and firm."
"Oh boy," Liv states and I grin.
"I think it'd only be fair if I got to grab your ass a bit. I mean, how many times have you flipped my skirt and smacked my ass tonight already?" I ask.
"Not nearly enough. Have at it," Liv tells me, turning around, sticking out her round little ass.
"Dude, if you don't grab that fine ass, I'm gonna," Brax says.
"Try it and I'll break your fucking hands, quarterback or not," I tell him and he gives me a knowing look.
Fuck. I like her… and I'm not just into her, I'm into her. Impossible situations. I reach out and cup her ass cheeks in my hands, squeezing gently. God damn. Her ass fits in my palms, it's firm and soft, and I am so fucked.
I've been saying that a lot since Olivia Brennan came to Prospect.
"Nice," I mutter, playing it cool. "Not too firm. Just right. Very nice, Olivia."
She turns to me with a toothy grin. "Why, thank you Cameron. Yours isn't so bad either."
"Yeah?" I prod.
"Mmm. It's all firm and round," she states and I start reciting football stats in my head so I don't get hard. Just what I'd need, to tent out my skirt. Christ.
"I bet you could bounce a quarter off of it," Alexa states and I laugh.
"For as much as I lift, run, and as many squats as the coach makes me do, you probably could."
Olivia winks as she flips my skirt and smacks my ass again.
And I'm back to reciting stats.
It's going to be a long damn night.
***
Things are going great, the alcohol is flowing, and everyone's having a good time. I slowed way back when I noticed Liv downing the punch like water.
She's laughing when I walk up with her refill and I wrap and arm around her.
"Drink this one slower, babe," I mutter and she nods.
"I'm feeling pretty tipsy, Cameron."
I grin. "I can see that."
The song changes and Olivia freezes in place. She turns her head to me, her eyes wide open, her smile just as wide.
"This is my jam!" she shouts. "We have to dance."
She doesn't even wait for me to say anything. Just sets her cup down on the table, grabs my hand, and pulls me out to where people are dancing. The minute she finds an empty space, she lets loose, and holy fuck, it's a sight to see.
Her arms waving in the air, her hips rolling and shaking, her breasts bouncing in the tight jersey—my jersey. I pull her to me and we start moving together, a bit clumsily at first, but we find our rhythm quickly.
And then trouble begins. Her hands are touching me, her tits pressed against me as she straddles my thigh. Fuck me. There's no way I can stop from getting hard right now.
I turn her around, her arms lifting to try to wrap around my neck so I bend down to help her out. My hard cock is pressing against her lower back as we grind together. I lower my chin to rest on her shoulder, my hands that were gripping her hips have now moved around to her belly, circling and trying to break my restraint and cup her breasts. Shit.
The upbeat song segues into a slower one and Liv spins in my arms, her smile sultry, her eyes seductive. I pull her in close and we sway to the music. I will my body to calm down despite the fact she's rubbing up against my cock.
Liv rests her head on my chest and wraps her arms around my sides and I want nothing more than to kiss her lips.
"Having a good time?" I ask.
Those baby blues raise up. "I really am."
"I'm glad."
Liv opens her mouth to say something but then her brow furrows and mine follows suit.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
Now Liv's expression is one of hostility and… disgust? I turn to look and Brittany's right behind me wearing… I don't know what she's wearing but there's not much of it.
"Can I cut in?" she asks sweetly. Fake. I hate fake.
"Nope. I'm here with Olivia." I look down at Liv and see surprise there, like she expected me to dump her here for Brit. That'll never happen. I pat Liv on the butt and she smirks, the smile back in her eyes.
"Wait," Brit says a little too loudly. "You're on a date?"
I nod.
"With her?" she screeches.
I nod again.
"You have got to be kidding me!"
I give Brit a look.
"Miss Prim and Proper?"
I let out a sigh and give Olivia an apologetic look.
"Look, Brit—"
"No. No. You don't get to 'Look Brit' me. You said you don't date."
I nod. "I did say that—"
"So what the fuck?"
And there she is. No more fake smiles. No more sugary sweet fakeness. Just the bitch she really is.
I just shrug.
Liv looks around me. "It's really none of your business."
Brit screams
with her mouth closed like a toddler throwing a tantrum, her face red, a vein the size of the Mississippi River sticking out on her forehead. What did I ever see in her? Oh yeah. She's an easy lay.
"I just thought…" Brit starts, then she laughs. She turns to her friend Candace who looks horrified. "Are you seeing this?"
Candace winces and nods.
"You don't date girls like her. You date girls like me. Ones who can keep you satisfied and happy," she blurts out, making a bigger spectacle of herself than she already has.
"First, you never made me happy," I begin only to be cut off by Olivia.
"And second, who says he's not satisfied?" she purrs, sexy as hell.
Brit recoils and I slide my hands down to Olivia's ass, pulling her close and upwards, her hands snaking around my neck as she wraps her legs around my waist.
"C'mon, Kitten. Let's go get some air," I say to Olivia as I carry her out the front door. She rests her head on my shoulder, her nose tucked into my neck, and it's an all-too-familiar scene.
When we get outside, I make my way to the back yard, back where it's quiet and I sit on the brick wall bordering the fraternity's land.
After a few minutes, Liv looks up at me, a softness in her eyes I've never seen before.
I lift a brow.
"It was you."
"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.
"In there… you called me 'Kitten'. It was you, wasn't it?" she asks.
I nod.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Considering how well we got along in Destiny," I say with sarcasm, "I figured it'd be best if I kept that to myself."
"My parents knew. Did Alexa know?" she asks.
I nod.
She pulls the wig off my head and runs her fingers absent-mindedly through the too-long hair on my neck. Her gaze is absent, as if she's somewhere else, and I know she's lost in thought, so I let her be. I just hold her close with one arm, and use the hand on the other to rub circles on her back. After what seems like forever but in reality is probably only a few minutes, I can't take the silence anymore.
"What are you thinking?" I ask, dying to know.
Her gaze comes back to mine, still soft and warm, a small smile on her lips.
"I'm thinking… you were my savior, Cam. How did you know where to find me?" she asks.
I shrug. "Anyone who knew you, knew where to look."
She shakes her head. "You're the only one who knew where to find me."
I'm getting a little uncomfortable with her probing because if she keeps up, she's going to find out I always knew where she was. I always made sure she was okay—even when I thought she was fake. I'm such a fucked up mess.
She just stares at me and I stare right back as the wind blows gently, her ponytail swaying in the breeze. She shivers a bit and I wrap my arms around her tighter.
"You hated me," she murmurs, her face close to mine, our gazes locked.
I just nod.
"But you rescued me anyway."
I nod again.
"Why?"
I pause, trying to figure out how to answer that because, truth be told, at the time I didn't even know why. I just did it. But now…
"Someone had to save you from yourself," I tell her honestly and her lips thin. She looks down and I lift her chin with my fingers. "Don't look away."
"I'm ashamed," she whispers.
"Liv. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You did what you needed to do. Don't ever be ashamed with me," I say softly.
Her eyes lower to my lips and I want so much to kiss her, but I'm not going to. I won't be the one to initiate. If she wants a kiss, she needs to kiss me first. Her eyes lift to mine and I just watch patiently as she bites her lower lip, trying to make the decision.
My fingers itch to cup the back of her head and pull her mouth the last few inches to mine and taste her again. Football stats.
When her gaze lowers to my lips again, I know her decision has been made. With a soft smile, she slowly leans into me, pressing her lips against mine. I don't move anything but my lips as I try to figure out just what she wants.
Again her lips press against mine, and again, her hands moving from the back of my head to my face. Her touch tentative, unsure, questioning, but this is a decision she's making and she needs to either follow through and deepen the kiss or pull back and leave it at that. Either way, I'm a lucking fucking guy.
She chooses the first. Thank fuck.
Her tongue glides along the seam of my lips and I open for her, tilting my head, tightening my hands on her shirt as her tongue slips inside to touch mine.
The first caress is brief but potent, stealing my breath. She tastes like the punch we were drinking and something even more fruity.
She deepens the kiss, stroking her tongue along mine then retreating, only to return with more passion. Olivia Brennan is kissing the breath from my lungs, stealing all sense from my brain, and sending all my blood to my dick.
Those questing little fingers move along my jawline, rubbing against my stubble, as I let her set the pace and the limits. This has got to be the hardest thing I've every had to do because all I want to do right now is wrap her up even tighter, tip her back slightly, and devour her mouth.
She sighs a little and presses tighter against me, her tits pushing against my chest, the heat of her resting against my hard cock. Heaven. This has to be what it feels like. I know it's short-lived because anything that feels this good would send me straight to hell.
I'm not sure how long we kiss, gradually growing from an innocent kiss to something that implies so much more. My heart hammers in my chest as she sighs, then whispers against my lips, "Kiss me, Cameron."
"I am," I tell her.
"Kiss me like you want to kiss me."
"You don't know what you're asking, Kitten." Cat's out of the bag(no pun intended) so I may as well use the nickname I've always called her.
"I know what I'm asking, but I'm only ready to go eighty percent."
I chuckle. "I'm not going to pressure you. Ever. If this is what you want, what you really want and you're not going to regret it, then this is what we'll do. But you have to be sure and I'm not sure you're sober enough to make that decision."
She pouts. "Then let's leave it at a kiss, but your kiss. I like the way you kiss me."
Fuck yeah, she does, but by the time I'm done she's going to love it.
"Please," she whispers.
"You never have to say please, Kitten. I just needed to figure out where to start," I tell her. "I wasn't sure if I should start here." I press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Or here." I press another to the other corner. "Or here." I pull her top lip between mine and suck softly.
She lets out a soft moan and I nearly lose it. My kitten needs things to move slowly, at her pace, on her terms, and that's exactly what she's going to get.
I pause for a second. When did she become my kitten? So fucked.
I press my lips against hers, again, then again, and once more before urging her to open her mouth and slipping my tongue inside—and the dance begins. Touching, retreating, breathy moans, roaming hands. This girl is potent. She goes straight to my head, erasing everything but her and how she feels against me as she lets me take her mouth how I've wanted since the first time I tasted her.
Her hands fist into my sweater and her hips move against me. I let out a groan, wanting her to continue but knowing this is as far as we go tonight. I grip her hips, stilling them, drawing out a protest from my kitten.
Reluctantly and slowly I end the kiss with brief, soft touches of my lips against hers. When I pull back, her eyes open slowly, a smile splaying across her swollen lips.
"Like that?" I ask.
She nods. "Just like that."
"We should go back inside."
Liv lets out a sigh. "Think she's gone?"
"Brit?" I ask and she nods. "Yeah, she's probably gone by now."
Liv's lip curls in distaste and I grin.
&
nbsp; "What's on your mind, Kitten?"
She leans back and I help her to stand.
"Likely she picked some random guy," she says, and I can hear her loathing.
"Likely."
Liv looks up, uncertain. That's something we need to work on.
"I will never be her."
"Thank fuck," I reply and she smirks.
I stand up and growl.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
"I can't take this shit anymore," I growl again, reaching under my skirt, hearing Liv's gasp and grinning. "I'm taking off the torture device you cheerleaders call spank pants. These fuckers have been wedged up my ass for the last three hours. Fuck this."
Olivia laughs as I pull them off, then pull down my boxer briefs, sighing with relief.
"I've got a whole new respect for you," I admit.
"I shouldn't tell you this, but I will. Spanks aren't a problem for females. We don't have the same equipment you do so we have much more room than you. Plus, our panties aren't nearly as bulky as your boxer briefs."
"Huh," I say and she snickers.
I run a hand through my messy, sweaty hair trying to tame it a bit. I look down and Liv's biting her lip.
"What's going on with you?" I ask with a smile.
"Nothing."
"Oh, Kitten, that look is not nothing. It's definitely something."
She peers up at me through her eyelashes. Shit, that's sexy.
"Your hair looks hot all messy like that," she confesses.
"Yeah?"
She nods.
"Good to know," I reply with a wink. I grab the spanks and wig in one hand, and reach for Olivia's hand with the other, and after she takes it, I lead her toward the house.
"So…" she prompts.
"So…?"
"What are we doing?"
This is Olivia. The girl who's lost everything she's ever known and is so unsure about moving forward. This is Olivia. The girl who's made it through hell and came out fighting. This is Olivia. The girl, I realize now, I wanted to hate but never managed to. This is Olivia and I want to see where it goes.
"Dating?" I question.
She nods. "Real or fake?"
"Real…" I trail off.
She nods.
I pull her to a stop. "I know you don't know how or what… shit."
"Go on, you're doing fine," she reassures me.
"I know this is new—different—for you, so it's your terms."
