Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3

by Jerica MacMillan

  Megan stopped struggling and looked up at him, eyes wide. “Why would he do that?”

  He pushed his hard cock against her belly. “You really don't know the answer to that question?”

  Megan's eyes grew even wider, and he couldn't be sure in the dim light, but he thought her cheeks went a little pink. Who knew Megan could be made to blush? Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and it was all Chris could do not to groan. “Why would …? What …? I don't understand.”

  In answer to her inarticulate questions, Chris pulled her closer and crushed his mouth to hers. She stiffened at first, but relaxed into him, opening for him when he began questing with his tongue. Her lips were soft, and he could taste the beer from the party. He wondered how much she'd had. She didn't seem drunk.

  When he pulled back, she was staring up at him, looking a little dazed. She stumbled back a step or two when he let her go, bringing a hand to her mouth like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. But her eyes … hooded and dark with arousal, her eyes let him know she liked what had happened, even if her brain hadn’t quite caught up. A smug sense of satisfaction stole over him that he’d managed to take her from pissed off to turned on with one kiss.

  Or maybe, like him, she thought their fighting was a type of foreplay.

  Matt could fuck right off with his warnings. With that look on her face, her reaction to him, there was no way he wasn’t exploring this all the way.

  Reaching for her free hand, he pulled her in the direction of his car. “Let's get out of here.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Where are we going?” Megan stumbled after Chris, who had a death grip on her hand as he hurried toward the sidewalk, his long legs eating up the space a lot faster than hers ever could. “Chris! Slow down!”

  He stopped and turned to her. “What?” The look of determination on his face changed to something else. Disappointment? “Sorry. I thought—” He released her hand, jerking away as he looked over her shoulder back toward the house. The cold crept over her now that he wasn't touching her at all. “Do you want to go back to the party?” He asked, his voice flat and dull.

  “What?” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, shaking her head. Why would he ask that? “No. That party was crappy. I just didn't want to get dragged behind you. I like walking.”

  Relief suffused his face, followed by a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

  She smiled. “It's fine. Just slow down a bit, yeah? There's no fire.” He reached for her hand again, and she laced her fingers through his, starting down the sidewalk at a more reasonable pace. “Where are we going?”

  He glanced down at her, the hesitation back in his expression. “Home?”

  When they got to his car, Megan pulled out her phone to let Abby know she didn't need a ride. The drive home went by in charged silence. Chris didn't touch her again, but kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Her skin tingled, craving his touch, and she shivered at the memory of his cock jabbing into her belly. What would it feel like against her skin, in her hand, inside her? A giddy smile stole over her face, because she’d get to find out soon.

  His hands clenched on the steering wheel, making the muscles in his arms bulge. He fidgeted throughout the drive, like the anticipation was too much to bear sitting still. He ran his hand through his hair a few times, mussing it and making it stand on end. It was short, but just long enough to grab hold of. The thought of what they could be doing while she ran her hands through his hair and held on made her squirm in her seat, warmth and wetness pooling between her legs.

  As soon as he threw the car in park, both their seat belts were off and they were up the steps. Chris made short work of unlocking the door and pushing through it, closing it behind her. He turned the deadbolt and then he was on her.

  Pushing her up against the door, his mouth descended on hers, demanding entrance and capitulation. His anger from earlier was undimmed, just channeled in a new direction. She met his demands, his anger, with her own. She was turned on but still pissed off at him. For flirting with her over the summer then turning cold. For acting like an asshole. For interrupting her dance tonight. For dragging her around and acting like he owned her. For accusing her of being a slut. Not that fucking him now would prove him wrong, but she was horny and it had been a long ass time. She'd wanted Chris for a while, and she was tired of pretending otherwise. He obviously felt the same way.

  His hands gripped her hips, pulling her against him, grinding her against his cock. He palmed her ass and lifted, never breaking the kiss. She wrapped her legs around him, her arms going around his neck, clasping together and hanging on.

  Chris held her there, supporting her weight with his hands, and rocked against her center. Megan groaned into his mouth.

  With that, he pulled her away from the door and carried her into his bedroom, his mouth still on hers, navigating by memory. It was a good thing they didn't let the house get too messy, or they might’ve ended up sprawled on the floor. The way they were both acting, they’d probably just tear each other’s clothes off and fuck where they landed.

  Fortunately, they made it safely to his room. He lowered her onto his bed, only breaking away once she lay sprawled on the mattress. Straightening to his full height, he looked down at her with hooded eyes. “You’re so fucking sexy lying on my bed with your hair a mess.” He crawled on top of her before she could respond. His hands traveled up her sides under her shirt and reached around her back to undo her bra.

  Megan pushed on his chest, and he sat up, letting her up too. She yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side, her bra following a second later. The expression on his face when he saw her topless—hazel eyes dark with desire, jaw clenching with restraint—was her favorite thing. She’d put that look there, and it made her feel wanton, sexy, powerful.

  She lay back, arms up by her head, open to his gaze. An invitation. Leaning forward, he caressed her torso, his hands warm with the slight rasp of callouses from years of dedication on the field and in the weight room. She gasped when he tweaked her nipples. A wicked smile on his face, he met her eyes and did it again.

  Then his mouth was there, his tongue tracing circles around each nipple before drawing them into his mouth one at a time. She arched into him, her fingers now in his hair like she'd imagined in the car. Deciding she'd had enough attention paid to her breasts, she tugged on his hair and brought his mouth back to hers. The rough cotton of his T-shirt brushed across her oversensitive nipples, stimulating her even more. She pulled up his shirt to get access to his skin, running her hands over his sides and roaming around to his back. His skin was smooth, and she relished the way his muscles bunched under her palms, his shoulders tight from holding himself over her.

  Sitting up, he yanked his shirt off, throwing it away like it deserved to be punished before claiming her mouth again. Their tongues dueled, and she pressed herself against him, wanting more.

  He reached his hand down between them and undid her jeans, then sat up and shucked them off her in one motion. Standing, he stripped himself naked before reaching for a condom from his bedside table.

  Megan propped her head on her hand, taking advantage of the opportunity to admire him. Ridges of muscle defined his broad shoulders and thick arms. Six pack abs rippled with his movements. A light brown happy trail led from his belly button down to where he rolled on the condom. Mmm. She couldn’t help licking her lips at the sight of that big, gorgeous dick. Unless he was just a lousy lay, this should be good.

  Fully covered, Chris climbed on the bed, his eyes roaming her naked form. Kneeling between her legs, he ran a hand up her inner thigh, spreading her legs so he could access what he wanted. He brushed a hand over her pussy, letting his fingers trail across her mound, rubbing back and forth, each pass firmer than the one before. Spreading her open, he traced a finger across her opening, around her clit, and back down again before slipping inside her. He pressed up, and she gasped in pleasure, rocking her hips in response
, pressing herself into his hand, enjoying the feeling of his finger hitting whatever spot he'd found deep inside her. His thumb went to her clit and another finger joined the first, working her harder, getting her wetter.

  She'd already been soaking her panties before he'd stripped them off of her. Was he going to give her an orgasm with his hand? She hoped he did and hoped he didn't at the same time. She liked the way it felt better when she came on a cock—though his fingers felt pretty amazing. The longer he worked, the more the heat and sensation between her legs became her sole focus, her entire world compressed to one tiny body part. She clutched at the sheets, her body tightening, her hips rocking into his hand, her back starting to arch.

  And he pulled away, leaving her whimpering and needy.

  Locking eyes with her, he grinned. This guy knew exactly what he was doing. With his hands under her ass, he pulled her onto his waiting cock. Megan's eyes almost rolled back in her head. It had been months since she'd had sex, and the stretch of him filling her up was exquisite.

  “Holy fuck, you're tight.” Chris moved back and surged into her again. He started out slow, each thrust hard and deep. He’d found the angle, and Megan couldn't help but groan each time he drove into her, her arousal rocketing higher with each thrust. Soon, he picked up the pace. One hand left her ass and settled over her mound, his thumb sliding down to stroke her clit.

  “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.” The words spilled out of Megan like a chant. Her body tightened, her back arching, and she exploded, all her tension unraveling as the pleasure took over.

  Chris leaned forward, planting his arms on either side of her head, and picked up the pace even more, prolonging her orgasm and chasing his own. Soon he thrust hard again, and again, and held himself tight against her. She was still experiencing the aftershocks of her own orgasm while he shuddered above her, his eyes tightly closed. Letting out a groan, he collapsed on top of her. He lay there for a moment, his arm and half his torso on top of hers, his cock still inside her. His weight on her felt nice, firm and warm on top of her.

  Too bad it wouldn't happen again.

  After a moment, he got up and left the room without a word, leaving the door ajar. As the water turned on in the bathroom across the hall, Megan sat up to look for her clothes. Hers was the only room with an en suite. The guys shared the other bathroom. Spotting her jeans and panties first, she climbed off the bed to get them.

  Chris stood in the doorway, naked and unselfconscious, his cock still half hard as Megan untangled her panties from her jeans.

  “What are you doing?” Chris frowned and crossed his arms.

  She got her panties on and stood up, crossing her arms too. He might be unselfconscious about his nudity, but she felt at a distinct disadvantage standing in his room wearing only her panties. “Getting dressed.” She kept her voice neutral, but this was a strange conversation. She hadn't pegged Chris as the type to want a cuddle and pillow talk after sex.

  He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up some more, adding an almost irresistible boyish quality to his frustration. “I can see that, but why?”

  Megan's mouth hung open for a moment before she recovered herself. “Well, we, uh, finished already. I thought …”

  He lifted an eyebrow as she trailed off, no longer the frustrated boy. No, he was all confident, sexy man. He pushed the door closed behind him. “You thought I was done?”

  Megan made a feeble gesture with one hand. “Aren't you?”

  Chris stalked toward her, pulled her close, and wrapped his arms around her. “Not even close.” He kissed her, his tongue sliding against hers as he pulled her back onto the bed with him. They made out for a while until Chris was ready to go again. This time was slower, and they both lasted longer, their initial lust having been satisfied once already.

  Once again, Chris disposed of the condom in the bathroom and came back, pulling Megan onto the bed. He turned off the light and pulled her against him, back to front so they were spooning, his arm heavy around her middle.

  Megan lay wakeful in Chris's arms, trying to parse through what this meant. They'd had sex. Twice. It had been really good both times. He'd surprised her by pulling her back into his bed after both rounds.

  First, she'd never done it twice in one night before, not even with a steady boyfriend. Second, she'd always heard that Chris was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am kind of guy. A quick fuck and you're done. Why had he pulled her back into bed, especially the second time? She'd been prepared to leave, though she hadn't started getting dressed again. But she hated the awkward conversation with a one-night stand where one person wants the other to leave. She always expected to leave afterward unless the guy asked her to hang around a while.

  She'd never had a one-night stand fall asleep with her before. While she wasn't wildly experienced, she was no virgin, so this was unexpected. Chris's breathing slowed, and she felt him relax against her.

  The front door had opened and closed a while ago, so she knew Matt was home. She wanted desperately to get back to her room, but didn't want to talk to Matt on the way. Especially since she hadn't even talked to Chris yet. Talking hadn't been much of a priority since they'd gotten home.

  So she was stuck, cuddled up with her sleeping roommate—fuck buddy?—in his bed. She was under no illusions that this meant anything more to Chris than what it appeared. But the sleeping thing threw her off. Did he expect her to stay here all night?

  How the hell was she supposed to get back to her room?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Megan woke up groggy and puffy eyed. From the angle of the light in her room, she knew she didn’t want to be awake. Rolling over, she grabbed her phone to check the time. It wasn't even ten, why was she awake? It had been after two in the morning before she finally heard Matt go into his bedroom. She'd waited another half an hour before she’d slipped out of Chris's bed, gathered her clothes, and crept across the house to her own room.

  Muffled voices let her know that the guys were awake, which was probably what had woken her up. She stretched and got out of bed, aware of the soreness between her thighs from the two rounds last night. With a satisfied smile, she went to take a shower.

  She couldn’t help the smug smile on her face at the spectacular end to her dry spell. Okay, fucking her roommate might not be ideal, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Not after the mind-bending orgasms he’d given her. She’d gone into the situation with her eyes open. She knew Chris didn’t do monogamy. Or dating. Or relationships of any kind.

  Not that Megan had much room to criticize. Maybe Chris's reputation was as unearned as her own. She knew what people said about her, and while she’d had the occasional one-night stand, she wasn’t quite the hook-up queen people seemed to think.

  Much to Isaac’s disappointment. Not that a pesky little thing like reality had stopped him from bragging to all his friends about nailing her. Repeatedly. The lying little bastard. They’d fooled around a couple of times, but his technique had been horrible, which had only turned her off. She had to be in the mood to teach a guy the right way to pleasure a woman. And the guy in question had to be receptive to instruction, not just going down on her because she insisted before she’d return the favor.

  When she didn't fuck him immediately, he’d started to view her as a challenge. He'd take her out to parties and try to feel her up or get her drunk enough to not be able to refuse. It hadn't worked. And he'd gotten mad, started calling her a slut and worse. And he'd spread rumors about her to his friends. Said that she was constantly calling him and begging for it, that he felt sorry for her and that’s why he took her out, rather than the other way around.

  After that she’d avoided a lot of parties the rest of the summer, not wanting the hassle of running into him or his friends. She'd gone out with Chris and Matt when they'd invited her and stuck close to them, trusting their popularity to shield her from any potential blowback. Isaac and his asshole friends were cowards, and seeing her with two big football play
ers was enough to keep them from harassing her.

  The downside of last night was today, though. Now they'd have to do the awkward morning after thing. Megan made it a point to never stay the night with a one-night stand. Not because the so-called walk of shame bothered her. No, it was the awkwardness with the other person the next day. But this time it couldn’t be helped. Though, he'd done a pretty good job of avoiding her for the last few weeks. Maybe that would continue. Still, she should come up with a place to go today just in case he didn't plan on making himself scarce.

  After she dried off and pulled on some clothes, she steeled herself for leaving her room. Delaying wouldn't make anything any better. And she was hungry. She needed breakfast.

  But when she left her room and looked around, she was strangely disappointed to find herself alone. No sign of either Matt or Chris. She knew they had to be awake from the sounds she'd heard earlier. What would Matt make of her sleeping with Chris? The thought of not telling him flitted through her mind as she pulled out her bowl and cereal, but she dismissed that as an unlikely scenario. Matt wasn't stupid, and she doubted Chris made a habit of keeping his conquests a secret. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the thought of being categorized as a conquest, but she didn't expect anything more from him.

  Speak of the devil, in walked Chris wearing only a pair of athletic shorts. He stopped when he saw Megan at the table, his face blank. She swallowed her mouthful of cereal as he took the last few steps toward her. Placing one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the table, he leaned down and kissed her, pressing his lips to hers, but taking it no further. She almost didn't kiss him back, holding herself stiff and unmoving, but gave in after a second. His lips felt too good against hers. When he pulled back, he didn't say anything, just turned and opened the fridge.