Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3

by Jerica MacMillan

  Midway through their first week together, they'd moved Chris's bed into Megan's room. Chris was happy to give up his old room for the master suite, and they could both fit on his queen-sized bed much better than her twin.

  The other benefit of spending time with Megan was that she forced Chris to study. After that first time when he faked his way through reading while she did her homework, she made him get out all his syllabi and do some homework. Which had the added bonus of keeping his coach off his ass about his academics.

  They spent every evening together during their first few weeks as a couple. Then the team had away games two weekends in a row. The first one didn't seem so bad, but the second one had Chris on edge and off his game.

  He'd talked to Megan on the phone on Friday night in their hotel room. Since Matt was in the room, they didn't talk much or for long. Chris felt awkward talking to her on the phone where Matt could hear every word, knowing that Matt hadn’t approved of him pursuing Megan, even though he seemed cool with them being together now.

  To Matt's credit, he acted like nothing unusual was going on and didn't react at all to Chris's phone conversation. In some ways that made it worse. He was used to Matt giving him shit for anything and everything. That's how they did things. For him to play it off like nothing was going on was almost as bad as if they’d had some awkward conversation about it.

  Saturday night after the game, he fell facedown into his bed, exhausted. He'd been pulled out at halftime because he’d let too many passes slip through. Now that Lance was gone, he was the best picker on the team. For him to not get a single interception and then to get scored on almost every play he was involved in burned.

  His phone buzzed with a text alert. With a groan he lifted his head, swiping his phone off the nightstand. It was Megan.

  How was the game?

  Shitty. He kind of hoped she'd let it go at that. But last week she'd asked the same question and pressed for more details. She understood more about football than he'd expected, given that she'd told him she didn't usually go to their games.

  So you lost?

  Yeah. They'd never managed to recover from the touchdowns his defense had let slip through in the first half. They'd held them in the second half, but couldn't bring up their own score.

  Do you want to call me and talk?

  He thought about that one for a moment. He didn't want to talk at all. Would she get pissed if he said that? Not really. Matt's watching a movie. I don't want to bother him. There. That seemed like a good reason not to talk. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to her. Just not on the phone. If he were honest, even if he were home, he wouldn’t want to talk. He played a shitty game. He wanted to feel better, not rehash it more than he'd already have to with the coaching staff.

  Okay.

  Good. She wasn't pissed. Or at least she wasn't telling him if she was, and he was pretty sure Megan wouldn't hold back on that.

  I bet I know something that will make you feel better.

  He straightened up, intrigued. A minute later he got another text—a picture of her breasts, looking down at her cleavage. She didn't have a shirt on, just a lacy red bra. He let out an audible groan.

  “You alright, man?” Matt glanced over from where he sat on his own bed, a look of concern on his face.

  “Yeah. Fine. Just tired.” Shit. Now he was going to have to deal with having a hard-on while he shared a room with another guy. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

  “Again?”

  “Yeah.” Thank god his bed was the one closer to the bathroom. It meant he didn't have to walk past Matt with his cock leading the way.

  He turned on the shower and spent the next ten minutes sexting with Megan, detailing what he'd like to do to her, and reading what she'd like to do to him. His cock got harder the longer it went on. Sitting on the edge of the tub, he stroked himself with one hand, looking at the sexy pics Megan sent and texting her back with the other. When he couldn't take it anymore, he set his phone down and climbed in the shower all the way, stroking himself harder and faster, imagining Megan there with him, her mouth on him, sucking him off.

  Biting his fist to muffle his roar, he came hard. It was the best orgasm he'd ever had by himself. Turning off the shower, he picked up his phone again while toweling off.

  Holy fuck that was hot.

  All he got in response was a winking smiley and a lips emoji. He smiled to himself and sent one more text.

  I've gotta go to bed now. See you tomorrow.

  Goodnight.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Megan stood and cheered as Marycliff University scored a touchdown, putting them in the lead by five points with only seconds left on the clock. Next to Megan, Abby bounced on her toes with Lance on Abby’s other side, yelling as loud as anyone. The whole section of students and alumni shouted “Moooo!” and held up their hands to form the letters M and U in sign language. After the extra point, the opposing team started a play, but it was a half-hearted effort at best. The defense blocked their pass, ending the game.

  Megan, Abby, and Lance waited while the crowd around them cleared out, packing up the extra sweatshirts and blankets they'd brought to stay warm in the chilly October evening. Since they'd have to wait for Chris and Matt before they headed to an afterparty, they weren't in any hurry to get out, and it was easier to wait for the crowds to disperse.

  “So things have changed a bit since the last time we were at a game.” Abby folded her blanket and pushed it into her tote bag, glancing at Megan out of the corner of her eye.

  Megan paused, watching Abby for a moment before she answered. “Yup.”

  “That's all you're going to give me?” Abby had stopped getting her things together to stare at Megan.

  Megan's gaze flicked to Lance, who seemed to be fighting back a smile while he pretended to ignore their conversation altogether. She shrugged. “There's not that much to tell. What do you want to know?”

  Abby's mouth dropped open in shock. “Megan, you were always oversharing with me when we lived together. I can't believe you haven't called me and given me more details than I ever wanted to know. All I know is that you and Chris are together now. How's it going? Is it weird living with the guy you're dating right from the beginning of the relationship?”

  Megan leveled a look at Abby. “You'd know as much about that as I would. You practically moved in with Lance after like a week.”

  “Not the same thing at all.” Abby shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “We didn't live together before we started dating. And I still had our apartment to escape to if I ever needed it. You don’t.”

  Megan just shrugged and let a smirk take over her face. “I can't believe you're pumping me for details about my relationship. Are you wanting to compare notes on the sex?”

  Lance let out a bark of laughter, causing them both to look at him. He covered it with a fake coughing fit and turned away from them.

  Abby faced Megan again, her eyes narrowing. “You know I wouldn't do that. And especially not in a public place.”

  “Well, you never know. You've changed since you started dating Lance.” Megan feigned nonchalance and continued to put her things in her own bag, fighting back a smile while Abby spluttered.

  “I have not!”

  Megan couldn't hold back her smile anymore, and she let out a chuckle to go with it. “Yes, you have, Abby. It's not a bad thing. You're still our lovable Abby, you're just a little more … loose.”

  “I’m loose?!”

  Megan was cracking up by now and so was Lance, though he was still trying to hold it in. His shoulders shook, and she thought she saw him wiping tears from his eyes. Megan shook her head. “Not like that, Abby. I just mean you've loosened up.”

  Abby glared at her for a moment longer, firmly seating her bag on her shoulder. “Whatever. That's completely beside the point. We're not talking about Lance and me. We're talking about you and Chris.”

  Megan sighed. “I told you already, there's not much
to tell. We're together, or dating, or whatever you want to call it.”

  “Is it getting serious?” Abby leaned in and lowered her voice.

  “It's only been a few weeks, Abby. And it's Chris. How serious could it be?” When she looked away from Abby, she caught Lance's face again. The laughter was gone, and he examined her. Their eyes met for a moment, and he raised a brow at her, like he maybe didn’t buy her protest that Chris couldn’t be serious. But he would know better than she would. They’d lived together for years. Played football together. Letting out another breath, she looked away from him too and focused on zipping her bag closed, unwilling to suffer his wordless interrogation as well as Abby’s.

  “Fine. We sleep in the same room when he's not away for games because it's easier than one of us having to get up in the middle of the night, get dressed again, and go to the other side of the house. And Matt doesn't have to see or hear anything he doesn't want to.”

  Lance snorted again.

  “Eww.” That was Abby.

  Megan rolled her eyes. “Please. It's not like you have any room to talk. You’re loud. I walked in on you guys that one time, remember? And I know what happened in your room afterward.”

  Pink spread across Abby's cheeks. Megan chuckled again. “You brought it up. If you don't want details, you shouldn't ask.”

  Abby lifted her nose and set her mouth in a prim line. “I only asked because I care about you. I want you to be happy.”

  Megan softened and decided to stop giving Abby a hard time. “Thanks. I appreciate it. I am happy. I just know how things are and have appropriate expectations.” She shrugged again and bumped Abby's shoulder with hers as they turned to make their way down the steps to leave the stadium. “We can't all have what you have so quickly and easily.”

  Abby didn't say anything after that. Lance reached back and laced his fingers with hers, his obvious love and affection for the little blonde written all over his face. Megan held in a wistful sigh. Despite what she'd told Abby, she was starting to develop stronger feelings for Chris than she let on. She couldn't bring herself to admit it out loud. She could barely admit it to herself. There was no way she was going to talk about that with Abby, especially with Lance standing there watching and listening. The last thing she needed was for Chris to suspect that he meant more to her than just the casual relationship they had going.

  Their relationship was born of attraction and proximity. Chris's track record with women didn't inspire thoughts of rings and wedding bells. Or even anything approaching a significant commitment. She knew there would be an end date. And she hoped like hell that she could keep her heart out of it as much as possible until that day came.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Hey.” Chris smiled, riding high on the adrenaline from a great game and excited to see Megan waiting for him. “Did you drive?” he asked Megan, pulling her in for a kiss.

  “No.” She curled her fingers in his sweatshirt. “I rode with Abby and Lance.”

  “Good.” He pulled her tighter against him and kissed her again, this time longer than before, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. She tasted minty, like she’d just had a Tic Tac. Pressing against him, she used her hold on him to erase any space between them.

  A throat cleared next to them, and Megan pushed him away. He grinned down at her, keeping one arm wrapped around her before turning to face Lance, who wore a look of cocky amusement on his face, his arms wrapped around Abby in front of him. He lifted his chin from where it rested on her head. “You done?”

  Chris tilted his head to the side, feigning contemplation. “For now.”

  Lance laughed. “Right.” His eyes flicked over Chris's shoulder. “Matt, you wanna drive yourself or ride with Abby and me?”

  Matt's eyes moved back and forth between the two couples, his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders hunched. “If Abby's going to drive us home again, I'll ride with you guys. I think I need a drink or five if I'm going to be the third wheel.”

  Chris couldn't help snickering, but stopped when Megan stepped away from him to loop her arm through Matt's. “You're not a third wheel. But I think I'll join you in the drinking.” She cast a glance back at Chris over her shoulder and grinned. “Chris is driving tonight, so I don't need to stay sober either.”

  Matt looked down at her, laughing, the affection clear on his face. Chris ground his teeth and fought back a surge of jealousy. He knew that she and Matt were friends, and they hung out together when he wasn't around. But he wanted her to drink with him, even if his drinking was restricted for the night. They'd won the game, he'd played well, and he felt like celebrating. Not sharing his girlfriend with his roommate.

  Huh. Girlfriend. When did he start calling Megan his girlfriend, even in his head? He'd always said they were dating or something, or called her the girl he was seeing if he referred to her to anyone who didn't know her. Otherwise he just called her Megan. Sometimes, when he was feeling playful, he called her his little roomie.

  Pushing his thoughts away, he stepped over to Megan, draping his arm around her shoulders. Matt looked up and gently disentangled himself from Megan, his other hand coming up to rub over his mouth. The bastard was trying not to grin outright, like he knew that Chris was jealous.

  He squeezed Megan a little closer. She seemed oblivious to their byplay. “Ready?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Let's go.”

  * * *

  “Whoa!” Megan flung out a hand, apparently finding it difficult to make it up their walkway without tripping on the cracks in the cement.

  Chuckling to himself, Chris caught her by the arm. “I’ve got you. I won't let you fall.”

  She beamed up at him, her dark curls falling away from her face, her brown eyes glazed and unfocused in the light cast from the streetlamp. They'd had fun at the afterparty—Megan more than him, but drinking with her was always fun, even if he had to stay sober. He'd made sure that she alternated with water near the end of the night so she wasn't too drunk to function and wouldn’t have a killer hangover in the morning.

  They'd danced for a while. It was nice going to a party with her and not having to watch random dudes groping her ass while she danced. That pleasure had belonged solely to him tonight. And for a while to come, if he had anything to say about it. They’d spent the last hour or so hanging out with friends on the couch, Megan snuggled in his lap. He could get used to that—to having a girl for more than a night, knowing he’d get laid tonight and tomorrow and whenever, not already trying to plan how to get away before some chick tried to sink her claws into him—more easily than he'd ever expected.

  Lance had been there with Abby, who’d been falling asleep on his shoulder. Every so often Lance had glanced at Chris and Megan appraisingly, fighting back a smile. It made Chris want to wipe the look off his face, but he'd decided to be the better man and just ignore him. For tonight, at least. If Lance kept it up, Chris might have to punch him once, just on principle.

  Once they made it inside the house, Megan turned on him, pushing him back against the door, clutching handfuls of his sweatshirt in her little fists. He was surprised enough that he didn't resist. When she slammed herself against him and yanked his head down to hers with a hand on the back of his neck, he was totally on board.

  He ran his hands down her back, gripped her ass, and pulled her tightly against him. She squirmed like she couldn't get close enough. He agreed. They were both wearing way too many clothes—pants, sweatshirt, T-shirt, underwear—and that was just him. Megan had on a sexy little red sweater and a pair of jeans. The sweater was soft, and he enjoyed running his hands over it, but not as much as her bare skin.

  Wanting to catch his breath, he pulled back just a little. She didn't want to let him have any room, though, pulling him down and going up on tiptoes at the same time to keep her mouth on his. He chuckled against her mouth. “Bed. Now.”

  She pulled him down hard once more, fusing their lips together, sweeping her tongue into his mouth
. The sweetness of soda laced with a hint of liquor lingered on her lips and tongue, remnants of Jack and Coke, Megan's drink of choice. He couldn't hold back his smile anymore, and ruined their kiss. Megan broke away with a sound of annoyance, turned, and started for her bedroom, the dim light coming through the front window barely illuminating her as she pulled her sweater over her head.

  She cast a look back over her shoulder at him, now in just a cami and jeans. “Coming?”

  His smile grew wider, and he adjusted himself in his jeans. He'd never had sex with Megan when she'd been drinking. She didn't drink much around the house, apparently saving that for parties. This looked like it was going to be fun. She wasn't passive normally, but she'd never been this aggressive before. And that come-hither look before walking away with an extra sway in her hips had him feeling like he might come in his pants.

  Chris stripped off his sweatshirt and T-shirt together, tossing them to the side when he got in the room. Megan had a lighter in hand, holding the flame to the wick of a candle on her nightstand, another one already burning on her dresser.

  Nice. She wasn't so drunk that she was going to just pass out on the bed, then. He congratulated himself for making her drink water too. He didn't know what he'd do if she got him all ready to go like this and passed out.

  Well, yeah he did. He'd jerk off in the shower and cuddle in next to her after he undressed her. Then they'd finish in the morning. After she finished puking, anyway. This way, they could have fun now and in the morning. So much better. And hopefully she wouldn't need to puke either.

  He was naked by the time she finished lighting the candles and put the lighter back in the drawer where she kept it. She still had her clothes on. Walking slowly around the bed, her heavy-lidded eyes raked over him, taking him all in.