His Curvy Cougar (The Halloween Honeys)

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His Curvy Cougar (The Halloween Honeys) Page 1

by Chantel Seabrook




  His Curvy Cougar

  The Halloween Honeys

  Chantel Seabrook

  Copyright © 2018 by Chantel Seabrook

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  I’ll make my curvy cougar purr like a pussy cat.

  Contents

  The Halloween Honeys

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Chantel Seabrook

  The Halloween Honeys

  It’s October at Oak Ridge University and the sorority sisters at Mi Alpha Alpha have decided to put on a haunted house as a fundraiser for the Oak Ridge Children’s Hospital. It’s a spooky time of year, but also sexy AF and these honeys are ready to make some memories that they’ll take to the grave!

  1

  Samantha

  “I found the perfect costume for you,” Tillie, one of my sorority sisters says, placing a bag on the bed beside me.

  “Costume?” I glance up from my laptop, closing the document I was working on, the last few edits of my dissertation.

  Four years of undergrad, two for my Master’s degree, and another four for my PhD, and I’m almost finished my time here at Oak Ridge University.

  It’s bitter sweet. But, I also know it’s time to put on my big girl panties and finally enter the real world of jobs, bills, and eventually paying off my enormous student loan.

  “It’s your Halloween costume for the haunted house.” Tillie tosses her long hair over her shoulder and flashes her perfect smile at me.

  “I told you, I’m too busy. I have my thesis defense next month and—”

  “And then you’ll be out of here. It’s your last chance to have fun. Plus, it’s for a good cause. All the money goes to the Children’s Hospital.”

  I sigh. “I wish I could, but—”

  “All you have to do is show up. I already talked to my brother and he said he’d take care of your responsibilities. He’s actually really excited about it.”

  Even though I try to push it away, warmth spreads throughout my body at the mention of her ridiculously hot sibling. Austen Summers. The man is cocky, arrogant, a typical jock and frat boy. And, way too young for me. But it doesn’t stop the butterflies that take flight every time I see him.

  “Come on, Sam, it’ll be fun,” Tillie presses.

  Fun.

  Something I haven’t had a lot of lately, which sounds crazy considering I live in a sorority house with a bunch of twenty-something women whose main goal seems to be destroying their liver one party at a time.

  But I love them. As crazy and wild as they can be.

  “Please,” Tillie pouts at me, folding her hands in front of her face, she begs, “Think of all the sick kids you’ll be helping.”

  I sigh, knowing she won’t let up until I give in. “Fine. As long as I don’t have to plan anything.”

  “Wonderful.” She claps her hands. “I knew we could count on you. And all you have to do is wear this...” she pulls out the contents of the bag.

  I pick up the gold and black corset and garter, along with the cat ear headband and raise my brows at her. “What is this?”

  “Your costume?”

  “A cat stripper?”

  She smacks my arm and laughs. “A cougar.”

  “Ha-ha.” I deadpan. “Funny. Is that supposed to be a play on my age?”

  “You actually have to date a guy that’s younger than you to be a real cougar, and considering you closed this...” She motions to my lower half. “Off years ago, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. But...” She smirks at me, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “You wear that and every guy at Oak Ridge will be drooling at your feet.”

  I hold the top across my triple Ds and sigh. “This is not going to fit. I’ll be spilling out of it.”

  “That’s the point.” She winks, then jumps off the bed. “You have an amazing body under all those baggy clothes. Time for you to show it off.”

  “I’d have to lose twenty pounds to get away with something like this.” I put the costume back in the bag.

  “Are you kidding? I wish I had your curves.”

  “Trust me, if I could give them to you I would. I’ll come up with my own outfit.”

  She shakes her head at me. “You really don’t know how gorgeous you are, do you?”

  I give her a small smile before she leaves, muttering something about how she’s going to get me properly fucked at least one time before I graduate.

  One glance in the mirror across from me, at the frumpy girl with the oversized glasses and messy blonde bun on top of her head, and I know it’s not going to be happening anytime soon.

  It’s not that I haven’t had any offers. The frat boys next door are always quick to tell me what I need, which usually involves some innuendo with a banana or baguette. But what I want is a nice guy. Someone mature. Responsible. What I need is a man who wants the same things I do.

  I’m just not sure what those things are yet.

  “What I really need is a shower,” I mumble, catching my reflection again.

  Shutting down my laptop, I’m grateful when I find the bathroom free. A rare occurrence. But it’s a Saturday night, which means most of the girls of Mi Alpha Alpha are out on the prowl.

  And they call me a cougar. They never miss an opportunity to tease me about my age. It’s all in good fun, but lately I’ve been feeling more self-conscious, especially since my best friend from high school just got married, and most of the others already have babies on the way.

  Unlike me, forever the bridesmaid, living in a sorority at twenty-seven, and going strong on a one-year sex-fast that makes me more of an old maid than the sexy cougar Tillie thinks I should be.

  Usually I have too much on my plate to even think about sex, but tonight, I could handle something other than my overused vibrator to help relieve the tension in my aching muscles.

  In the bathroom, I turn on the water, and strip as the steam fills the room.

  Right now, I shouldn’t be thinking about babies or sex. All I should be worried about is finishing my degree and starting my academic career. Maybe then I’ll find a nice guy to settle down with. A nice guy who doesn’t mind a woman with curves.

  A nice guy like Gavin Mills, my mom’s voice says in my head while I wash my hair. I still don’t know why you broke up with him. He’s perfect, and a doctor.

  “And I will be too as soon as I graduate,” I reminded her.

  She’d clucked her tongue. “I mean a real doctor.”

  Apparently, my PhD doesn’t count.

  Gavin Mills, the man I’d thought was settle-down-material, was anything but, despite my mom’s protests. She’d ignored when he called me fat, or bought the latest diet books. She even thought I should give him a second chance when I’d discovered he’d been sleeping with his skinny, young research assistant.

  Never again will I let someone make me feel like that. Like I’m not good enough just because I don’t fit the ideal mold. And yet those insecurities still linger.

  After rinsing the remaining conditioner out of my hair, I turn the water off, and reach for a towel, but I’m left grabbing air.

  Shit.

  I peek my head around the pl
astic curtain and scan the bathroom. Nothing. Just the clothes I’d been wearing for the past two days, and I really don’t want to try and put them back on.

  “Help,” I call out. “If anyone can hear me, please bring me a towel.”

  Silence.

  I cry out one more time, “Someone help, please.”

  Nothing.

  Damn it.

  I grab my clothes from the floor, then peek my head out the bathroom door.

  All clear.

  I can make it to my room, which is just down the hall, without one of the girls seeing me. I start to make a run for it, and am almost at my door, when I turn the corner and smack into a large, tattooed wall of muscle.

  2

  Austen

  I’d always known Samantha was hot. But damn, I had no idea she was so fucking perfect.

  “Oh my god,” she says, staring up at me. She tries covering herself with the pile of clothes in her hand, but it’s not working so well.

  Her breasts are so round and full that nothing can cover them — and thank god. I look her up and down, wishing she was my girl. If she were, I’d take hold of those curvy hips and take her against the wall. I can just imagine her legs wrapping around my waist as my hands grip her creamy ass.

  Shit, I need to cool the fuck down.

  Football practice had been a killer today. This is the perfect way to ease my tense muscles, though my cock is raging at the sight of this curvy dream come true.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her, taking in her heart-shaped face, her pink pouty lips, the droplets of water falling on her tits.

  “It’s so not okay,” she says, backing up and kicking open her bedroom door.

  I step forward. “I’m here to work on the haunted house with you,” I explain as she shuts the door in my face.

  “Let me get clothes on and then we can talk.” It’s clear from her tone how rattled she is.

  “You know I could help you get dressed,” I say jokingly, but deep down I’m not being funny. What I wouldn’t give to help her into a pair of panties.

  Out of them too.

  “Haha,” she says deadpanned, as she opens the bedroom door.

  “That was fast,” I say, looking her over. She’s put on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. Make-up free face, fresh from the shower she looks so damn wholesome, which matches her reputation. Everyone thinks highly of Samantha.

  “Oh god,” she says, looking down at herself, realizing what I already figured out. My cock did too, and I need to get this hard-on under fucking control. Samantha must have been in a hurry because I can tell she isn’t wearing a bra.

  Her nipples poke through her top and I run a hand over my neck trying not to stare, but fuck, she looks insanely good like this.

  “Here,” I say, pulling off my hoodie. “Wear this.” Maybe it’s the caveman in me, but I need her in my clothes. I want to claim her in some way.

  But she is skittish and nervous, and she bites the corner of her lip as she takes it from me.

  “It looks cute on you,” I tell her after she pulls it on.

  She smiles shyly, but her dimples shine through. “Thanks, that was ... awkward.”

  “Not for me,” I say with a grin. “It was the perfect way to start a Saturday night.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Why are you here exactly? Shouldn’t the campus player be like, out with freshman cheerleaders?”

  Trying not to take the dig personally, I shrug. Ignoring the comment, I say, “We’re planning the haunted house.”

  “Right.” She twists her lips, then frowns. Sitting cross-legged on her bed she says, “Actually, Tillie said you were covering all that?”

  I shake my head. “No, we were doing it together. I mean, it’s your sorority putting it on.”

  I look around the room, wanting to sit somewhere, but the most logical place is next to Sam. Taking the risk of getting rejected by this hottie with walls higher than any woman I’ve known, I sit beside her.

  She scoots a few inches away. It kills me. She’s never given me any hint that she’s interested, but I’ve wanted her for ages.

  It’s part of the reason I offered to help with the haunted house. It’s an excuse to finally get closer to her. The other reason, of course, is that raising money for the Children’s Hospital is really close to my heart.

  “Okay,” she says with a long sigh as if this is absolute torture. “So, let’s pick a time and place to work on it.”

  “You busy right now?” I ask, leaning back on the bed. She smells so good. She must have used some grapefruit shampoo.

  Her eyes widen as I get closer and she practically jumps off the bed. “Yeah, I’m slammed tonight.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask, not believing her for a second. Tillie would have told me if Samantha had a date.

  “Studying. My dissertation is due soon. So...”

  Taking the hint, I stand from the bed, ready to go. I want Samantha, but only if she wants me too.

  As I move from the bed, a bag drops to the floor, the contents falling out. I pick it up, apologizing. As I do, I realize it’s a Halloween costume.

  A smile spreads across my face. “Damn, Sam, this is fucking hot.”

  Samantha grabs it from me, her face bright red. I give it to her, not wanting her to be embarrassed — and not quite understanding why she would be in the first place.

  “That’s what you’re wearing for the haunted house?”

  She groans. “Obviously not.” She holds it up, blowing air from her cheeks. It’s a cougar costume with a gold and black corset and garter belt. If Samantha put that on she’d be a sex kitten all the way.

  On the floor there is a cat ear headband and I reach for it. I take a step closer and place them on her head. “Why? I think you make a cute pussy cat.”

  She swallows, not looking at me. “Cougar,” she corrects. “And Austen, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend.”

  “It’s Halloween, isn’t that the point, dress up and let loose?” I ask, not wanting her to think my intentions are anything but pure. I adjust the cat ears. “You need whiskers though.”

  She steps back, biting her bottom lip. And for the first time I get the impression that maybe it isn’t because she’s not interested. Maybe she doesn’t trust herself with a guy like me.

  A player with a bad boy reputation.

  But as I look her over I can tell she needs someone to help her relax, let down her guard. Give her the kind of pleasure she deserves.

  And I’m the man to do it.

  3

  Samantha

  I probably should have kicked Austen out of my room. My plans tonight were simple, finish the final edits on my dissertation, and watch Netflix in my pajamas. Not have Oak Ridge’s hottest football player in my bedroom, looking at me like he’s ready to devour every inch of my body.

  And a part of me wants to let him.

  Muscles ripple under the tight t-shirt he wears as he moves closer to me. “So, I was thinking about a theme.” His voice is deep, smooth, hypnotizing, just like his eyes, which I’d always thought were blue, but are actually a light green, rimmed with dark lashes.

  “A-a theme?”

  One side of his mouth quirks up. “For our room.”

  “Right. Do whatever you want.”

  He inches closer and cocks a brow. “Anything?”

  Oh god, this man is dangerous. He takes another step closer, and when I step back, my legs hit the edge of the bed.

  “Anything with the room. Do what you want. I give you full control.”

  His body is inches from mine, heat blistering in the space between us.

  “I like control,” he murmurs, reaching out to brush my still damp hair away from my face.

  I swallow hard. “Good. Then it’s all yours.”

  I’m not exactly sure if we’re talking about the haunted house anymore. But I do know that if I don’t put some space between us, I’m about fi
ve seconds away from kissing him.

  With agility that I don’t usually have, I move around him, but not quick enough and my arm brushes against his, sending a million electric currents racing over my already heated flesh.

  I groan and instantly regret it, because I hear him chuckle as I move to the other side of the room.

  “But as much as I like control, Sam, this is a joint effort. I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”

  “Why are you even doing this?” I shake my head at him. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than—”

  “Raise money for the Children’s Hospital?” His expression turns serious. “What could be more important than that?”

  I shrug, and toss out at him, “For a guy like you? I don’t know, football and girls?”

  “Ouch.” He places a hand over his chest. “So, because I play football, I’m automatically placed in one of Samantha Trelford’s little boxes?”

  I hate when people judge others, but he’s right, it’s exactly what I did to him. But I still need the distance between us, and when he starts getting closer again, I use my words to put it there.

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t assume that just because you’re a jock, live in a frat house, and have dated half of the sorority you’re—”

  “Actually, I haven’t dated one girl in this sorority. So, your facts are wrong.” He’s still walking closer, and that look in his eyes is back, the one that says he could eat me for dinner if he wanted to.

  I want him to my body hums.

  And he’s right, I haven’t seen him with any of the girls from Mi Alpha Alpha.

  “But that’s not saying I haven’t had my eye on one of them for a while now. But she seems to have a no-frat boy rule.”

 

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