Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3

by Jerica MacMillan

  Megan shook her head. “I wanted to get in the pool before I start drinking.”

  Matt smiled down at her. She looked so tiny standing there between the two of them. The top of her head was just about even with his armpit. Matt was a little shorter than him, but not much.

  “Cool. I'll go in with you,” Chris offered before Matt could. He drained the rest of his beer, tossed the can toward a nearby trash can, and let his hand fall to her back to guide her toward the pool. Her bare skin felt soft and smooth under his hand, and he wanted to stroke it, hating the fact that his first opportunity to get his hands on her was so public and she wasn’t naked with him in a bedroom. His bedroom. Hers. One here. He wasn’t picky.

  She cast a glance over her shoulder at Matt, but went along with Chris without protest.

  Good.

  Feeling smug, Chris hopped into the shallow end and turned to help Megan in. She sat down on the edge and put her feet in, hesitating for a moment before accepting his help off the edge. Another jolt of satisfaction went through him as his hands bracketed her waist, and she gripped his shoulders as he lowered her into the water. He knew she didn't need the help, but wanted an excuse to touch her again. Needed to touch her again.

  Once she was in the pool, he forced himself to let go, even though he wanted to keep his hands on her, stake a claim on her, let the others know that she was off limits. But he didn't, and they walked toward the deeper water, closer to the rest of the group in the pool. More girls sat ringing the edge with their feet dangling in the water. “Who's up for a chicken fight?” one of them yelled.

  Chris turned toward Megan, glad for another reason to have his hands on her. “Want to do it?” She looked up at him, her lower lip between her teeth. He almost groaned. “C’mon,” he cajoled. “It'll be fun.” Not giving her a chance to protest, he grabbed her hand and dragged her over to where the others were already pairing off. Guys disappeared under the water to let their female partners climb on their shoulders.

  Chris looked at Megan. “Ready?”

  She nodded. Without letting go of her hand, he squatted down with his back to her and helped guide her onto his shoulders. Her legs came around the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and she hooked her ankles behind his back like a pro. She'd obviously done this before. He held onto her hands while he slowly stood, helping her keep her balance. The muscles in her thighs shifted and clenched, working to steady her. He stood still for a moment until they both felt stable, then let go to rest his hands on her legs just above her knees. Again he had to stop himself from running his hands over her thighs, managing to content himself with a short stroke of his thumbs. After that he managed to keep his hands still, trying to be matter-of-fact in the way he touched her.

  He couldn’t let himself get carried away like he wanted. Not here with all these people watching.

  Tompkins, who was apparently reffing the game, surveyed the chicken-fighters, waiting for Sullivan and his blonde, whose name Chris had already forgotten, to hop into the pool to join in. Once they were ready, Tompkins yelled, “Go!” and chaos erupted, the water churning, girls squealing, and a loud splash as the first one toppled into the pool.

  Chris waded into the fray. Megan grabbed at the shoulder of a brunette on top of one of the linebackers. She caught her by surprise when the other girl wasn't looking and easily pulled her off. Chris smiled at Megan's cry of triumph before he moved on to find their next opponent. Megan grappled with three other girls, winning each time, before she got taken out by Sullivan's blonde.

  Sullivan waited until his girl got a good grip on Megan's arms and stepped backward as fast as he could in the water. It was enough that Megan lost her balance and Chris couldn't keep her upright with the other chick dragging Megan down.

  She came up laughing, pushing her hair out of her face and wiping the water out of her eyes. “You let me fall off!” She splashed water at his chest in apparent retaliation.

  He grinned down at her. “I couldn't help it! You got taken out.”

  Her lower lip poked out in a fake pout that only lasted a second before she smiled again. “We're supposed to be a team. That means we go down together. Aren't football players supposed to understand the importance of teamwork?”

  “Are you questioning my loyalty?”

  She laughed at him, and he grinned back, enjoying their banter and hoping they could get back to their usual flirty exchanges. His eyes strayed to her mouth and her plump, red lips begging to be kissed. He loved the way she looked, her hair wet and slicked back, her face lit up with a smile.

  “It looks like they're going again. Do you want to keep playing?”

  Megan's voice pulled his attention back from his wandering thoughts. Giving in to his lust with her was probably a bad idea. Unless maybe she was interested too …

  “Chris?”

  “Hmm?”

  She gestured at the others. “Are we going to play again?”

  Man, she was distracting. He nodded once and grinned. “Let's go.”

  He dropped down again, and she climbed back on. He suppressed a sigh as he realized this was the only way he’d probably get her thighs around his head, and it wasn't from the direction he wanted. But she was his roommate. He needed to remember that.

  They played two more rounds of chicken fight. They lost the next round early but won the one after that. Megan sat on his shoulders with her arms raised. “Whoo! We won!”

  He laughed, then maneuvered her so she turned and slid down his front. They were pressed together for a moment, her breasts squished against his torso, the bare skin of her belly against his lower abdomen. Megan looked up into his face, and her brown eyes grew darker. His gaze dropped to her lips, which parted on an indrawn breath. He wanted to taste them so bad.

  She broke the spell of the moment, stepping back, breaking the contact between them, and he immediately missed the feel of her body pressed against his. “Thanks. I had fun.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the shallow end, then looked back at him. “I’m, um … I'm going to get a drink.”

  She made her way to the edge and hopped out. Chris waited for her to get out before he followed behind her to get a drink, too.

  When he got out of the pool, Matt casually approached, a beer in one hand. He walked next to Chris for a few steps before he turned and stepped in front of him. His move forced Chris to stop and looked for all the world like it wasn't intentional, but Chris knew him well enough to know Matt was trying to handle him. Matt's eyes were amused, but he wasn't smiling. He leaned against the low wall that separated the main patio from the pool area, taking a drink of his beer. “What are you doing?”

  Chris gestured toward the open door into the house. “Getting a drink.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Matt's eyebrows went up, and he took another sip of his beer. “You sure about that?”

  “What's your point, Matt?” Chris wasn't in the mood for this.

  Matt shrugged. “Just looks like you're trying to put the moves on our roomie.”

  “So?” Crossing his arms, Chris knew he looked and sounded every inch the belligerent asshole. But he didn’t need Matt’s interference.

  “Bad idea, man.” Matt shook his head, his eyes scanning the party spread out over the yard and in the pool. “There's a whole group of chicks to fuck here, most of them happy to have an hour with you. Leave Megan alone.” The amusement bled out of his eyes as he took another drink of his beer and brought his gaze to Chris, his stance still casual, but his face and tone serious.

  With a deep breath, Chris puffed out his chest, unconsciously clenching his fists and flexing his arms. “What if she doesn't want to be left alone?”

  Matt just shook his head again. “She's living with us. Use your big head for once instead of your little one.”

  Chris bristled. Having been classed as a dumb jock all his life, he was sensitive to having his intelligence questioned. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”

  “I know, man. Didn't say you were.
But think about what'll happen if you fuck her. You think she's going to stick around and watch you fuck your way through all these jersey chasers for the rest of the year?” He shook his head again. “Nope. Not that one. She'd hate you and move out at the first opportunity. It was pure dumb luck that she agreed to take Lance's place so we weren't left in the lurch. You really want to fuck that up already?”

  Chris clenched his jaw, not wanting to admit that Matt was right, but knowing he was. “You just cockblocking so you can have a shot?”

  Matt laughed at that. “Nah. She reminds me too much of my sister. But I like her. She's fun to hang around with, and I don't want to pick up her share of the rent until we find another roommate if you fuck her over. You get me?”

  Deflating, Chris sighed. “Yeah, man. I get you.”

  With a nod, Matt straightened. “Good.”

  Chris watched him wander off, still drinking his beer.

  Fuck. After feeling her against him, staying away from Megan was going to be harder than he thought. But he couldn’t ignore that Matt had a point. Fucking her would be a bad idea.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Megan glanced behind her when she got to the door. Matt and Chris stood talking by the edge of the patio. While Matt looked relaxed and unconcerned, Chris was all flexing muscles and narrowed eyes. She couldn't hear them from this distance over the noise of the party, so she wasn't sure what that was about. She didn’t know if she wanted to find out either.

  Instead of getting a drink, she decided to change into dry clothes first. Trying to be quick so she didn't drip all over everything, she grabbed her bag from the corner behind the armchair where Matt had stashed their stuff and began the search for a free bathroom.

  She lucked out upstairs. Once inside, she dried off and changed into her favorite party top and cutoff shorts. It had spaghetti straps and a V-neck that showed off the perfect amount of cleavage, skimming over her curves without clinging, just hinting at what was beneath. After slipping on her wedge sandals, she stuffed her flip flops back in her bag along with her swimsuit rolled in her towel.

  When she came out of the bathroom, the music had been turned up, and a few people danced in the clear space on the patio. Megan loved to dance, especially after she'd had a few drinks. Stashing her bag behind the chair again, she made her way to the kitchen.

  The guy behind the bar lifted his chin at her and smiled. “What can I get you?”

  She smiled back, the artist part of her brain noticing the contrast of his white teeth against his dark skin and wondering how she would render that on a canvas. Growing up in a predominately white town meant that she didn't have much experience painting other skin colors, and her fingers itched for a brush. But now wasn’t the time for that. Returning his smile, she asked, “Whaddaya got?”

  He leaned onto the counter on his forearms. “Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Beer, soda, liquor. Want me to mix you something?”

  “A Jack and Coke, thanks.”

  With a nod, he snagged a red Solo cup from the stack off to the side, filling it with ice and pouring the soda and whisky into it. When he started to straighten the bottle up after a couple glugs of whisky, she reached out and tipped the bottom back up, letting more liquor pour into her cup. His brows shot up his forehead, but he gave her an appreciative smile.

  “I’m late getting started. I have to catch up,” she explained before taking a long drink.

  “In that case, stay right here, and I'll help you.” He gestured to a bar stool across from him. “I’m Cooper.”

  “Megan.” She slid into the seat, leaning over the bar and drinking some more, enjoying the bite of the whisky tempered by the sweetness of the cola.

  Cooper mixed himself a drink and apparently decided to give up bartender duties, because he pulled a stool close to hers and sat down. They chatted, and Megan started to enjoy herself more, the warm feeling from the alcohol spreading through her, relaxing her. After she’d drained the last of her drink, she slammed the cup down on the counter and grabbed Cooper by the hand. “Let's dance.”

  He didn't resist, following behind her until they reached the small dance area. With one hand on her hip, he slid in place behind her and moved with her to the beat. They danced together for a couple of songs, and Megan was enjoying herself, enjoying the music, and enjoying the firm grip of Cooper’s fingers on her hip and the wall of muscle behind her back.

  Then he vanished. Megan stopped dancing and looked behind her, at a loss. Weren’t they having fun? He'd had his hands on her hips and stroking around her waist just a second ago. Now he was nowhere to be seen.

  Matt approached with a drink in each hand. “Thirsty?” He held out a cup to her. She frowned up at him, but decided that another drink sounded good. It was a Jack and Coke, nice and strong, just the way she liked it. Drink in hand, she moved off the dance floor to hang with Matt for a while, drinking and chatting. More people joined them, team members and the girls hanging around them. Some of them were girlfriends, some of them were just football player groupies. She'd heard the guys refer to them as jersey chasers, which made her wonder how she was categorized. She wasn't a girlfriend, but she definitely wasn't a jersey chaser. Not that she'd necessarily turn down any of the hot guys that she got to ogle today, but she wasn't here just to try to get banged by a football player. She was the female roommate of two of the seniors on the team. That apparently put her in a category all her own.

  After she finished her drink, someone else asked her to dance. Again, after a few songs, he was gone. When she stopped to look around, Chris lifted his cup and raised an eyebrow in silent question. She nodded. She definitely needed to get more drunk if she couldn’t keep a guy dancing with her for more than two or three songs.

  Chris met her on her way off the dance floor with another drink, handing it to her, watching her sip it. “Having fun?” His eyes glittered with some unreadable emotion.

  She gave him a quizzical look. “Um, yeah. Or I would be if my dance partners didn't keep bailing.”

  Chris just gave a “hmm,” in response and buried his face in his cup. Megan couldn't figure out what his deal was tonight. He kept acting strangely. Like he was annoyed with her or something. But he'd been the one to invite her, and when they were in the pool, he hadn't seemed bothered by her being there. If he didn't seem so annoyed the rest of the time, she'd think he was hitting on her by the way he insisted she partner with him for the chicken fight, the way he ran his hands over her thighs while she sat perched on his shoulders, and the way he held her against him when he let her down at the end. But he'd been distant since then and kept giving her weird looks now. He wasn't even keeping up the easy flirtation they'd started over the summer. She had no idea what she could've done to irritate him. Maybe he felt like having her at the party was cramping his style? Then why did he invite her in the first place? She could've gone to another party by herself, or just stayed home and unpacked and gone to bed early.

  “Wanna dance?” Chris's low voice near her ear sent shivers down her spine and pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked up at his face, gauging his sincerity, but he was unreadable as ever.

  “Sure.” Maybe he’d stick around for longer than two or three songs.

  He led her by the hand back onto the dance floor. He was still shirtless, his shorts hanging low off his hips, giving her a full view of his defined muscles. The football team had been training and practicing for weeks now, and he was at peak condition. With one hand around her back, he pulled her close, and his heat wrapped around her like a blanket. His smell, a spicy mix of cologne and him, filled her nose. She looked up at his face, and his lips curved in a small smile, his eyes darkening.

  Megan's lips parted, her breath coming a little faster at the undisguised desire on Chris's face. He grew hard against her belly where he held her pressed against him.

  This time she saw it when Matt pulled Chris away from her. He tapped Chris on the shoulder, and Chris turned, the look on his face morp
hing into annoyance. He let go of her to face Matt, pushing her behind him. She took a step to the side and watched, surrounded by gyrating bodies, unable to hear them over the music. Matt had a carefully neutral look on his face, but tension tightened his jaw and shoulders. Leaning in, he said something close to Chris's ear and shook his head. Chris's shoulders slumped, he cast a glance over his shoulder at her, his eyes hard, and walked away in the direction of the kitchen.

  She watched Chris walk away before turning to Matt. “What was that about?”

  He looked down at her and hitched up one side of his mouth in a crooked smile. “Nothin'. Another drink?”

  His face didn’t give anything away no matter how long she stared at him. Realizing she wouldn’t get any useful information out of him right now, she agreed, and they made their way back to the kitchen. She scanned the area for Chris, but he was nowhere to be found. Strange. Hadn’t he headed this way?

  Matt stayed with her at the bar until she wandered off in search of a more comfortable place to sit, claiming a spot on a couch in the living room. The house had an open floor plan, so she could see into the kitchen as well as out the open patio doors to the pool area. The party was in full swing around her—people drinking, dancing, making out, having fun.

  But she wasn't having fun anymore. Her dance partners kept disappearing, and after the way Chris and Matt kept showing up with drinks just as she found herself alone combined with their little performance on the dance floor, she had the sneaking suspicion they were responsible for that. She couldn't figure out what Chris's problem was. He acted like he wanted her, but then he kept shutting down. It was probably for the best that way. She just wished he wouldn't go to the trouble of making her seem off-limits to everyone else.

  Looking up, she saw Chris across the room, a redhead hanging off him, her hands all over his arms and chest. Not long after that, it looked like they were having a competition to see whose tongue could go farther down the other's throat.