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Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3

Page 32

by Jerica MacMillan


  Well. Of all the reactions she’d predicted this morning, that was not on the list.

  She watched him, the silence stretching out between them as he made himself toast and two eggs over easy. Megan turned back to her cereal, eating slowly, trying to figure out what to make of what was happening. He’d kissed her and wasn't talking. It brought a whole new meaning to “don't kiss and tell.”

  When his breakfast was ready, he sat next to her at the table, still without saying a word. Megan decided to wait him out and see if he would talk at all. Ha. Maybe she would avoid an awkward morning after conversation after all. He'd perfected the art of not talking to her while being in the same room already. Would he keep it up?

  That kiss, though. That was what she couldn’t figure out. She finished her bowl of cereal, drinking the milk straight from the bowl like she always did.

  Chris swallowed his mouthful and finally looked at her when she set her bowl down. “Any plans today?”

  Megan stared at him for a second. “Seriously?”

  “What?”

  Megan watched him eat his breakfast, and she wasn't sure whether to answer his question or just smack him upside the head and walk away. “You're going to just walk in and kiss me, not say anything, and then ask if I have plans?”

  Chris stopped chewing for a second, then finished his bite and swallowed. “Yeah. Is that a problem?”

  “I don't even know how to answer that question.” She got up from the table and took her bowl to the sink.

  When she faced him again, he was sitting back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over her body. “It's a pretty straightforward question.”

  “You want to know if I have plans today.” He nodded. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “Why?”

  “To see if you want to hang out with me.” He gave her a look like she wasn't too quick on the uptake.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You want to hang out with me. Since when?”

  Standing, he brought his now-empty plate to the sink. As he set it down, his eyes never left hers. He stepped into her personal space, crowding her, causing her to take a step to the side, and another, until he'd backed her into the corner. Placing his arms on either side of her, he bracketed her in and brought his face closer to hers. The fact that he didn’t have on a shirt caused Megan’s breath to hitch as he eased closer. His scent tickled her nose, a combination of him, hints of his spicy cologne, and sex from the night before. He hadn't showered and washed her off. That fact alone made her clench her thighs against the burst of arousal between them.

  He dipped his head, capturing her gaze, his hazel eyes blazing with intensity. “Since July.”

  Her brows came together as she processed his answer. “Since July? Really?”

  He nodded and flashed a grin. “You were hung up on that other guy who pissed you off right before the party on the Fourth, and you weren't very receptive to my advances. After that, you didn't seem interested in anyone, so I didn't pursue anything.”

  “You have a reputation.”

  There was that cheeky grin again. “I do.”

  “I wasn't interested in a one-time fuck.”

  A shrug. “I gathered.”

  “But now you've had me, so … what is this?”

  He dipped his head and whispered in her ear, “Once with you is not nearly enough.”

  Megan fought to keep from squirming at his words and the tone of voice in which he delivered them. No wonder this guy had his pick of girls. With that body, that panty-dropping smile, and that voice, girls probably stripped down on the spot for him. She'd obviously not been the recipient of the full force of his charm before this. Sure, they'd flirted, but he'd never actually tried to seduce her.

  And now she knew why.

  She put her hands on his chest to push him back to give herself some space to breathe, to think, but the push turned into something more like a caress. “So … what? You want to start dating now?”

  He shrugged again and leaned into her touch. “If that's what you want to call it, sure.”

  “So this was your way of asking me out?”

  Something flashed across his face. Was he embarrassed? “I guess so. Are you going to say yes?”

  “I have homework I need to get done today, but otherwise I'm free. What did you have in mind?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Instead of answering her question, Chris took advantage of their position and kissed her. She didn't respond at first, but softened after a second, leaning into him. It was the same reaction he'd gotten when he'd kissed her at the table. Stiffness followed by relaxing into his kiss.

  They were pretty tame kisses—no tongue. He was holding himself in check. Really, he wanted to devour her again, take her back to his room and spend the day with her there. But since she’d put up some resistance, he didn't think that would be an option.

  So, homework and a date. He just wanted to spend time with her, be able to touch her. He was done denying himself what he'd been craving for so long now. He hadn't been lying. One night wasn't anywhere near enough to work her out of his system.

  It was a strange feeling, but he didn't want to fight it. His instincts on the field led him to be one of the top players on the team, so he was used to going with what he felt in the moment. Why should this be any different?

  Breaking the kiss, he looked down at her upturned face. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing warm, dark brown eyes, pupils dilated, lids heavy. He smiled, enjoying the fact he put that look on her face. “Do you have a lot of homework?”

  She blinked a couple times. “What? Oh, right. Homework. I just have some reading for tomorrow.”

  Straightening, Chris took a small step back. Megan seemed to take a deeper breath, and her eyes came into sharper focus. His smile grew wider at the potent effect he had on her. “Why don't you get started, and then we'll go out for lunch later, maybe catch a movie after? Sound good?”

  Her eyes remained fixed on his, but she nodded. He moved to the side, out of the way, so she could get past. She moved slowly at first, holding his gaze as she stepped away from the counter, then faster as she gained ground and moved farther away from him.

  After she left, he took a quick shower and changed clothes. Rifling through his textbooks, he grabbed a few at random to take out to the living room for the pretense of doing homework. He probably did have homework. Maybe he should find a syllabus to see what he needed to do for any of his classes. But that would require remembering where he'd put that stuff.

  He couldn't be bothered to care since he wouldn’t be coming back next semester. His hopes of going pro, or even doing something like arena football, didn't look like they were going to pan out. Playing at Marycliff was his last chance. He still went to classes—some of the time, anyway. But why bother doing homework when your GPA didn't matter anymore? When you weren't planning on graduating anyway? He only went to class as much as he did to keep the coach off his ass.

  Coach kept asking him about his plans after graduation, and he always mumbled something and got away as fast as he could. Coach Hanson wasn’t an idiot, and Chris knew he wouldn’t let it go forever. But he hoped that he’d be able to escape that conversation until after the season ended and he was gone. He didn’t want to think about what came next. It was too depressing. Living in the moment had carried him this far, why change now?

  Books in hand, he headed for the living room, stopping short when he found it empty. What the hell? Where was Megan? Her bedroom door was closed, so he crossed the room and rapped his knuckles against the wood. A minute later, Megan opened the door, her curls everywhere like she'd just shoved her hand through her hair and not bothered to make sure it landed back in place. He smiled, reaching out a hand to touch her hair.

  She dodged his hand, and he pulled his eyes back to her face. “What do you want, Chris? I thought you were going to let me do my homework first.”

  He held up his textbook. “I thought we could study together.”<
br />
  She eyed him with a wary expression. “You want to do homework together?”

  “You do homework with Matt all the time.” He couldn't help the defensiveness that crept into his voice.

  “That's different. I'm tutoring Matt, and we have classes together. I don't even know what your major is.”

  “Exercise Science. And anyway, we're both just reading. You don't have to help me. You read your stuff, and I'll read mine. Come sit on the couch with me.”

  Megan's eyes searched his face like she might be expecting him to start laughing and yell, “Prank!” But when he didn’t, she finally nodded. “Okay.”

  Chris waited while she gathered her book, notebook, pen, and highlighters. This chick took her reading seriously. She followed him out to the couch where he sat on one end. When she went to the other end, he shook his head and patted the middle cushion. “Sit here. Next to me.”

  She looked at him again like she was trying to figure him out. After a minute, she shrugged and sat down, setting her notebook on the couch next to her.

  He put his feet up on the coffee table, ankles crossed, his textbook open on his lap. Megan sat cross legged next to him, her book open across her legs, her notebook next to her. She kept her highlighter in the gutter of the book and her pen in her hand, chewing on the cap while she read.

  Chris stretched his arm out along the back of the couch behind her. She was so intent on her reading that she didn't even notice. Or at least she pretended not to. Every so often Chris would turn a page. He'd picked a chapter at random, staring at the pages, sometimes reading the bold faced headings and the captions under the images. He'd apparently grabbed an anatomy book and had opened to the chapter on arm and shoulder muscles.

  Time passed. Megan shifted. Her left leg was still curled up under her, her right foot on the floor. Every so often she'd write something in her notebook or highlight something in the text.

  Chris found himself watching her study more than he pretended to read his own book. He wanted to touch her. To run his hand over the curve of her back where she sat forward over her book. Or, better yet, pull her over so she could relax against him, his arm around her instead of along the back of the couch. It would be even better if they were watching a movie instead of studying—or pretending to, in his case.

  “Enjoying yourself?” Megan's words pulled him out of his thoughts about what he'd like to happen once the hypothetical movie was over. She was still looking at her book, highlighting something.

  He shifted in his seat, making room in his shorts for the semi that was well on its way to becoming more. “What?”

  She glanced at him, pressing the cap back on her highlighter with a click. “I can't help but notice that you're studying me instead of that.” She nodded toward the book in his lap.

  He closed the book. No point keeping up the pretense. “I don't really need to study. I was just using it as an excuse.”

  Now he had her full attention. She put her pen and highlighter down and closed her book, her brow furrowed. “You don't need to study? At all?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not coming back next semester, so why bother? My GPA doesn't matter anymore.”

  She frowned at him. “Yeah, you mentioned that the other night. But I don’t understand. Why wouldn't you come back next semester?”

  Another shrug. “What's the point?”

  “Uh, so you can finish your degree.” She widened her eyes and tilted her head, her hand flopping open on her lap in a gesture that said well, duh more eloquently than words.

  He made a noncommittal sound in response, not wanting to talk about this. Instead, he did what he'd been wanting to do since they sat down and ran his hand down her back, then up and around the nape of her neck, coming to a stop with his fingers tangled in her curls. Leaning forward, he brought his mouth to hers. She kissed him back right away this time. There was none of the hesitation from earlier this morning. That seemed like a good sign. “Are you done studying?” he murmured against her lips.

  “Yeah,” she breathed. “You're too distracting.”

  He couldn't suppress a triumphant grin. “Good.” When he kissed her again, she turned to face him, her hands going to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her onto his lap, and leaned back so they could be more comfortable.

  After kissing him and rocking against him, Megan sat up and looked around, eyes a little wild. “Where's Matt?”

  “Who cares?” He pressed up against her so she could feel what he really cared about.

  She grinned down at him. “Well, I doubt he'd want to walk in on us. Is he even here? I haven't seen him all day.”

  “No. I think he left this morning. No idea where he went.”

  The grin faded from her face, and she looked a little concerned. “I heard you guys talking before I got up. Did you tell him about us?”

  “He'd figured it out on his own. Matt's not stupid.”

  Megan nodded, the furrow still between her eyebrows. He wanted to erase that look from her face, but he didn’t know what to say.

  So he spoke the language he knew best. With his hands on her hips, he pushed her down, sliding her against him some more, hoping to distract her and get her focus back where he wanted it. Fuuuck, that felt good. Not as good as the real thing, but still good. “Is that a problem?”

  Megan's eyes closed, and she sighed. He was getting to her. Good. “I don't know. Was he okay with it?”

  “He seemed fine. Do you really want to talk about Matt right now?” Matt seemed like the absolute last conversation topic he wanted to explore at the moment. Not talking at all seemed like an even better idea.

  She shook her head. “Not right now.” Thank fuck.

  Pulling her mouth back to his, he tangled his tongue with hers. She groaned into his mouth. He loved hearing those sexy sounds from her. It was his turn to groan when she broke away again. Only his groan was frustration, not arousal.

  She laid her head on his shoulder. “Chris, I'm, um, a little sore.” Her voice was a whisper.

  He pulled his head back, surprised. “Sore?”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “From last night. It's been a while, and we did it twice.”

  “It's been a while?” Not that he gave a shit about rumors, but he’d been under the impression that she hooked up pretty frequently. “But I thought—”

  She cut him off. “Yeah, I can guess what you thought. Don't believe everything you hear.”

  He studied her face, or at least what he could see of it. She’d turned her head away when she’d corrected his assumptions about her, like she was bracing herself for some kind of reaction. But why would he react in any particular way? What—or who—she’d done—or hadn’t—before him had no real bearing on them. Other than that she was sore now.

  “Okay,” he said, hoping his calm voice reassured her as he pulled her in for another kiss. His hands roamed over her back and then up under her shirt, wanting to get to her skin. When she pulled back again, he growled.

  She pushed herself all the way up to sitting, way too far away for his liking. At least her hands stayed on his chest. “I’m serious, Chris. I'm not up for sex right now. My lady bits need a break.”

  “It's okay.” He ran his hands up her back, hoping to convince her to drape herself on his chest again. He liked the way the soft handfuls of her tits felt against him. “I just want to make you feel good,” he reassured her. “If anything hurts, I'll stop. I promise.” He ground his pelvis against her again, watching her eyelids flutter in response, and that breathy sigh escape her lips. “Does that hurt?”

  “N-no.”

  A smile crossed his face, pure male satisfaction. “Good. But you're right. We should probably move this out of the living room.”

  He helped her to her feet and started to lead her by the hand toward his bedroom, stopping when she tugged at his hand. He looked back to see why she'd stopped. She tilted her head toward her door. “Let's use my room. I have my own bathroom.”

/>   Nodding, he allowed her to lead the way. He felt a little weird coming in here to get naked with someone. In some part of his mind, this was still Lance's room, and he never would've done this while Lance still lived here.

  Once inside, though, all thoughts of it being Lance's room vanished. It looked so different. There was only a twin bed, for one thing, that Megan had brought with her from her tiny apartment. The furniture was different—Lance had taken his old stuff when he’d moved in with Abby. And there were pictures on the walls—framed art prints of famous works, what looked like original paintings in some places, and framed photos of friends and family on top of her dresser.

  The twin bed wasn't ideal. On the plus side, it meant they'd have to stay very close together. He could get on board with that.

  Chris closed the door behind him, then drew Megan to him by their connected hands. She came willingly, no hesitation. Cupping her face with his free hand, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips before sliding his tongue along her lower lip and deepening the kiss. She responded, pressing her body against his, her tongue seeking out his, sliding and tangling. His hand moved from her cheek to tangle in her curls and tilt her head back to plunder her mouth more thoroughly. Her soft moan had his cock swelling even more, pressing against her through their clothes.

  Releasing his hold on her hair, he ran his hands down to her ass before sliding under and lifting. Megan broke their kiss, her eyes widening in surprise, but she wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched his shoulders. He gave her a cocky grin and carried her over to the bed where he sat with her in his lap once more.

  Not wasting time, he slipped his hands under her shirt and lifted it up. Megan raised her arms, perfectly understanding his intentions. He tossed the shirt somewhere, not paying attention where, his eyes now focused on her breasts. She wore a simple pink cotton bra, but from the way his mouth watered at the sight, it might as well have been the sexiest lingerie. He'd seen her breasts last night. He already knew how they filled his hands just right, and the way her dusky nipples peaked when he teased them with his tongue. Seeing them in the daylight filtering through her curtains was even better than in the lamplight in his room last night.

 

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