Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3

by Jerica MacMillan

  For his part, Matt remained stoically silent. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his jaw flex over and over, and he looked like he might try to rip the steering wheel off the car altogether. She held back a sigh. What she was doing with him? This couldn’t be a good idea. It didn’t matter how well he kissed or how good she felt with his arms around her again. He was still the guy who’d stopped answering her emails after a few weeks. That had hurt her, to know that she could be so easily forgotten by someone important to her. To think that she was never as important to him. He’d broken her heart.

  She needed to remember that. Whatever she decided to let happen between them, she needed to remember that she was never as important to him as he’d been to her.

  When he pulled into a driveway and turned off the car, Hannah let out a sigh of disappointment, looking down to put her shoes back on. They were still warm from the heater, but it didn’t feel as good as having the hot air blowing directly over her toes.

  “Are you okay?”

  She looked up and gave him a little smile. “Yeah, fine. My toes are still cold, though, and now they don’t have hot air blowing on them.”

  With a wicked glint in his eye, he returned her smile. “I’ll make sure you get nice and warm inside. Come on.”

  He got out of the car before she could respond, meeting her at her door, offering his hand as she set her feet unsteadily on the uneven concrete of the driveway, rocks and pebbles scattered around, barely visible by the light thrown from the porch. He led her up to the front door, holding her hand the whole way.

  After flicking on the light just inside the door, he dropped her hand. Moving into the living room, Matt scooped up a couple of empty bottles and a plate from the coffee table that sat in front of a battered-looking couch. A blanket lay over the back, and a few mismatched throw pillows nestled in the corners. An equally battered tan recliner sat next to it, signs of wear at the corners, the arms and seat darkened from use and age. Her eyes ran over the space, taking in the large flat-screen TV, video game consoles, controllers, and assorted electronics stuffed in a small entertainment center that was the same as hers.

  “Make yourself at home.” She looked up at the sound of Matt’s voice as he disappeared through a doorway at the back of the room into the kitchen. He poked his head back around the open doorway. “You want anything to drink? Beer, water, uh …” He trailed off and disappeared for a second. “Yup, beer or water are the choices. Megan would be mad if someone drank the last of the milk.” His head came around again. “So?”

  Hannah shook her head, confused. “You live with a girl?”

  Matt chuckled and came back to the living room with two open bottles of beer in hand. He handed one to her, and she took it automatically, waiting for his answer.

  Tipping back the bottle, he took a healthy swallow and nodded. “Yeah, Megan moved in with Chris and me in August. They’re together.” He pointed toward a doorway off to her right, in the wall behind the recliner. “That’s their bedroom.” He nodded toward an opening on the opposite wall adjacent to the kitchen doorway. “My room and what’s become Megan’s painting studio are that way. As is the bathroom if you need it.”

  Absently sipping her beer, she glanced around the space. There were paintings on the walls, abstract looking ones full of nuanced shading as well as landscapes of local landmarks. Matt turned his head to follow her gaze. “Megan did those. When she ran out of wall space in their room she started putting them up out here, claiming that we were barbarians for never having decorated. She’s also responsible for the pillows and blankets.” He shrugged. “When it was Lance, Chris, and me, we didn’t give a shit so we never bothered.”

  Hannah nodded dumbly, unsure of what to say. Stepping toward her, Matt took the beer from her hand and set it on the coffee table along with his. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, which made her realize she still had on his sweatshirt. It almost covered her dress, and she could imagine how ridiculous it must look, but the heat in Matt’s eyes told her he disagreed with her assessment. She drew in a sharp breath.

  His hands traveled up her arms to cup her jaw and the base of her skull, tilting her head up so he could touch his lips to hers. A brief touch, so light that she almost questioned whether it actually happened. From the look in his eyes, she’d expected to be devoured, but instead he touched her lips with his again. And once more before pulling back to look down into her face. “Are you still cold?” His voice came out as a rasp.

  “Yeah.” Hers was breathy and soft, too. He pulled her with him toward the couch, settling her with her back against the arm and her feet in his lap. He slipped her shoes off, then pulled the blanket over her but left her feet exposed. His hands enveloped her right foot, one hand cupping the heel, the other wrapped around her toes, hot against her chilled skin. “Holy shit, your feet are freezing.”

  A snort escaped before she could stop it. “I know.”

  He smiled back, kneading the balls of her feet with his thumbs.

  She let out a wordless moan. His fingers felt so good, strong and sure as they coaxed warmth back to her icicle toes. His eyes met hers, dark with lust, the light blue just a rim around the black of his pupils. His smile turned wicked, and she became aware of the hardness pressing against her other ankle. Heat rose in her cheeks, and his smile only grew bigger. He shifted his attention to her other foot, picking it up so that it didn’t press against his cock anymore.

  After massaging and warming her foot, he worked his way up her calf, squeezing the muscle, his thumbs stroking and caressing her skin, warming her legs too. When he reached her knee, he moved her leg to the side, pushing the blanket off her so it slid to the floor, moving between her legs into the opening he’d created. She let him, enjoying the way his hands felt on her too much to stop. She sucked in a breath as his hands continued their way up, one on each leg, slowly moving and caressing their way from her knees to her thighs, spreading them farther apart, raising the hem of her skirt until it barely covered her thong, his face intent as he watched the path his hands made. He lowered himself, lining up his pelvis with hers, resting between her thighs, before raising his eyes to hers and kissing her deeply. He took his time, his tongue sliding and stroking against hers.

  His hands skimmed up under the sweatshirt, and he sat back to peel it off her. She sat up as well, raising her arms to help. Out of the cold and now with his weight on her and his tongue in her mouth, she was getting too warm, feeling suffocated by the sweatshirt, its thickness an unwanted barrier. His eyes traveled over her, taking in the swell of her cleavage where it rose under the square neckline of her black dress. He traced a finger along the edge of the fabric, and her nipples hardened even more, like they were reaching out for him. Cupping her breasts with his hands, he leaned in and kissed her again, dropping teasing kisses along the sensitive skin below her jaw, sucking lightly at her pulse point, nipping at her collarbone and soothing the sting with his tongue. He lowered the strap on her left shoulder, sliding it down her arm to expose more of her skin to his lips and teeth and tongue. After a moment he sat back and started over down the other side, one of his hands traveling under her skirt, gripping her bare ass, moving to the front to cup her mound, his fingers moving over the thin fabric of her thong.

  He sat back once more, stripping off his T-shirt one handed. She loved when guys did that, any guy, but especially this guy, the muscles in his shoulders and chest bunching and rippling with his movements. She gave in to the urge she had in the car and reached out to run her fingers over his tattoo. She remembered when he’d gotten it, that summer they were together. It had been a couple of weeks after they’d met. He had asked her to come with him, and she’d held his other hand while the tattoo artist worked, keeping her eyes anywhere but on the buzzing needle etching those lines and swirls into his skin. Afterward, his arm bandaged, he’d held her tight and kissed her.

  And now here they were again, with him shirtless and an obvious bulge behind his zipper. It p
ressed into her when he kissed her. She knew what he wanted, even though he’d said okay when she told him they wouldn’t be having sex tonight.

  But after kissing him and being with him like this, she was considering changing her mind.

  He pressed his hand over hers, stilling her fingers on his arm, and she looked up into his face. Leaning forward, he pressed her back into the couch again, lining their bodies up, rocking the hard ridge of his cock against her center as though their clothes weren’t a barrier. He slid his hands under her ass, rucking her skirt up around her waist, his fingers hooking in the waistband of her panties.

  A scrape and a click followed by a giggle sounded from Hannah’s right. She froze, pushing at Matt’s shoulders until he stopped too. The front door opened and two people spilled in along with a gust of cold air, laughing and talking and clearly drunk.

  “Oh my God!” That was the girl, her hand covering her mouth, her dark curls bouncing around her shocked face.

  “Dude! You didn’t tell us you were gonna score.” The guy’s eyes were open wide, his arm around the girl, and she turned and smacked him on the chest.

  Hannah’s face grew warm, and she tried pulling her straps up and pushing her skirt down at the same time. Matt got off her, facing the two intruders who still stood by the open door. Sitting up, she took cover behind his body as much as possible while straightening her clothes.

  Oh God. This was beyond embarrassing. And just further proof that this was a terrible idea.

  Matt ran a hand over his hair and face, muttering to himself, but she couldn’t make out his words. When she had straightened her dress, she grabbed his sweatshirt from the coffee table, clutching it to her chest, certain she looked ridiculous, but feeling the need for another layer between her and these strangers.

  Matt glanced back at her and extended a hand to help her stand up. “Hannah, these are my roommates, Chris and Megan. Guys, this is Hannah.” He tilted his head toward her. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

  Chris opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Megan burst out, “Oh my God, your skin is so beautiful!” She rushed forward, grabbing Hannah’s hand, examining her arm and any spare inch of exposed skin. “Seriously, most people don’t have this creamy skin with the peachy undertones without tons of freckles.” Megan raised pleading brown eyes to Hannah’s face. “You have to model for me. Please say yes.”

  Hannah turned her confused gaze on Matt, looking between him and the short brunette still clutching her hand and pleading with her. Chris just stood by the door, which he’d closed, an amused expression on his face.

  Matt shook his head. “Megan, you’re scaring her. Back off.” He gently detached Megan’s hands from Hannah, putting a little space between them, and turned to Hannah. “I told you Megan’s a painter. She’s looking for a bunch of models for a project she’s working on that might turn into a show in a few months.”

  Megan smacked his arm, the sound of skin hitting skin cracking in the room. “It will be a show. No might or maybe about it.”

  Shrugging, Matt grinned at Hannah. “Okay, it will be a show. She’s roped Chris and I and a few of the other guys into modeling for her as well. It’s really not that bad.” He stepped closer, into her space, his hands on her waist pulling her against him. “We could hang out more if you did.”

  Once again, the effect of Matt’s presence and his blue eyes gazing into hers, willing her to agree, had her nodding her head. “Okay. As long as I still have time for school and work and everything.”

  “Of course!” Megan rushed to reassure her. “We’ll work around your schedule. Weekends and evenings work best for me anyway. It’ll only be a few sittings, probably. It shouldn’t be more than a few hours altogether.”

  Hannah nodded, her eyes never leaving Matt’s. He smiled, his annoyance with his roommates seemingly forgotten. She’d just agreed to come to his house at least two or three more times, after all. Meaning she’d see him again outside of work. If he and Chris were also modeling, would she be posing with one or both of them? That might be interesting.

  Megan’s hands thrust between Hannah and Matt, holding a pen and pad of Post-Its. “Here. Write down your number so we can work out the schedule. I’ll need to see my roster …” Hannah took the pen and Post-Its, scribbling down her number while Megan muttered to herself about schedules and models and skin tones. Hannah wasn’t really listening.

  Craning his head around, Matt pulled out his phone as she jotted down her number. “Mind if I save that?”

  She looked up at him, a smile on her face, warmth spreading through her again that he wanted her number, any remaining resistance forgotten for now. Maybe they’d see each other beyond when they were modeling for Megan. “Go ahead.”

  Matt smiled back and typed her number into his phone before pocketing it. Hannah tried to give the paper and pen back to Megan, but Megan was distracted, her hands in her hair, still muttering to herself, so she set them down on the coffee table. A chuckling Chris took Megan by the shoulders and started to guide her to their bedroom door.

  Megan seemed to become aware of her surroundings again, and her head snapped up. She turned back to Hannah and Matt. “It was so nice to meet you! I’ll be in touch.” And with that she led Chris by the hand into their room, with him still chuckling the whole way.

  Goosebumps rose on her skin again when Matt leaned in close, his breath whispering over her skin. “We should relocate. Unless you want to hear Megan and Chris going at it.”

  Hannah’s eyes widened, and a mischievous grin pulled at Matt’s lips. “Uh, no thanks.”

  He chuckled again. “My room?” He tilted his head in that direction.

  She followed his gaze, then glanced back at the front door. The events of the night and all the emotions hit her at once, dragging at her, making her tired. The spell of Matt and his body had broken the minute the door opened, and she didn’t know if it could be recovered right now. Or if she should even try.

  Shaking her head, she took a half step toward the door. “I think I should go home. I’m really tired, and I have stuff to do tomorrow. I can call a cab if you don’t want to go back out.”

  Matt’s hand on her cheek turned her face to his, and he placed a kiss on her lips, a sigh of disappointment soft on her face. “No, I’ll take you home. Just let me grab my shirt and a jacket and I’ll be ready to go.”

  Moments later they walked back to the still-warm car parked in the driveway. Matt didn’t say much the whole way home, though he did give her one more kiss before she got out of the car.

  Exhaustion pulled at Hannah as she made her way into her apartment and got ready for bed. She had to be up early to help get signatures for the petition to get the university to expand its recycling program. She never liked bullying people into signing something, and Saturdays were the worst day to be on campus trying to do that, but she’d been guilted into helping, so she’d be there. Distracted by thoughts of tomorrow and her need for sleep, she pushed her evening with Matt out of her mind, resolving to think more about it and what exactly she’d gotten herself into tomorrow.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Matt returned to a dark living room and silence. At least taking Hannah home meant he missed the soundtrack to his own private porno for once. Back in his room, he stripped down and climbed into bed. He thought about taking a shower, but decided not to, not wanting to wash away the feel of her from his body.

  He’d let her wear his sweatshirt for the trip to her apartment, so she wouldn’t get too cold again. She’d offered to take it off, but he’d insisted she keep it, that she could give it back to him later. He’d take whatever excuse he could get to see her again. Convincing her to pose for Megan had provided a great opportunity that he’d exploited, but he wasn’t about to rely on only one thing.

  She was hesitant around him when he wasn’t touching her. Thoughtful and reluctant to engage. It drove him nuts, especially since the Hannah he’d known had been open, easily and qu
ickly revealing her thoughts and feelings to him, her face lighting up at the sight of him, not closing down, unsure what to do in his presence like she was now.

  Dammit, he was determined to get that back again. Draw her out of her self-imposed shell and demolish the distance that had grown between them. He’d been making great progress on that goal when Megan and Chris had stumbled in and interrupted them. There’d been no recovering from that.

  Hannah had been embarrassed, and he’d known she would turn him down when he suggested they move to his room. Hell, she’d come right out and told him she wouldn’t have sex with him. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he’d been disappointed all the same. God, the feel of her, the taste of her, was better than he remembered. And having that taste again would drive him nuts until he could devour her like he wanted, as much as he wanted, whenever he wanted.

  “Fuck,” he muttered to himself, annoyed that his cock responded again to the feel of her under him tonight mixing with the memories from before that kept resurfacing. Since she’d shown up on Monday, he’d jerked off to those memories every damn night. And apparently tonight wouldn’t be any different.

  His hand closed around the base of his cock, and he decided he’d just get it over with, quick and dirty, for some basic relief. Just as that warm tingling started, and his balls drew up tight on the verge of unloading, someone pounded on his bedroom door. Not someone. Chris. Megan didn’t knock like that.

  “Fuck!” He almost yelled it this time. Chris had the worst fucking timing in the world tonight. He grabbed the first thing he found off his floor and yanked on a pair of boxers, wrenching the door open, glaring at his asshole roommate. “What do you want, Chris?”