by Penny Wylder
He reaches out the window and this time when he puts the number in, the gate opens. The houses are spread out. The windows are cracked and I can hear seagulls and waves crashing in the distance. We must be close to the ocean.
I let out a low whistle as we drive past the different mansions. Whoever we’re here to see must be some big corporate type to be able to afford a place in this neighborhood. I wonder if we’re here to talk to someone about the new app we’re working on.
I look back at the others. They all look at me with big shit-eating grins on their faces. Is this part of the surprise? Is this why the lawyer was at our office? Maybe the new app sold and we’re here to meet the person who bought it?
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” I say.
Beck just smiles, on the verge of giddiness and says, “You’ll see.”
We come to a house that looks like something an A-list celebrity would live in. Then I start to wonder if maybe there actually is a celebrity living in there. Am I about to meet someone famous?
Winston’s Tesla is parked in the circular driveway. Beck pulls up behind it and everyone starts to spill out of the car. We go up to the door, but it’s already open. When we go inside, I wait for our host to greet us, but it’s only Winston.
He wears the same big, goofy smile that the others have on their faces. “Welcome home, angel,” he says, sweeping his arms in a big arch.
“What is he talking about?” I say to no one in particular. My heart is thrashing in my chest.
“Surprise,” Beck says.
Laughter boils up inside of me, but I’m too stunned to make a sound. My jaw drops to the floor. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. This is all yours—ours, actually. Do you like it?”
Tears burst from my eyes and so does the laughter waiting to escape. “Are you kidding me? Do I like it? No one can like a house like this. One can only love a place like this.”
I’m out of breath. This place has literally taken the breath from my lungs. I put my hand to my chest, trying to get my emotions under control.
I throw myself into Beck’s arms. “So the snake in the suit, that wasn’t a lawyer?”
He wrinkles his brow. “Of course not. You’ve met our lawyer. That was the real-estate agent.”
I take turns hugging each of them. This place feels right. I can see myself living here, making dinner for my guys, entertaining.
“We have one more surprise for you,” Jason says, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“There’s more?” I say. I don’t know if my nerves can handle much more.
Jason leads me to the back of the house. We come to a huge wall of windows showing off a show-stopping back yard. There’s a lagoon-style pool, a hot tub, a basketball court, and a cabana just like the one at the bar we went to when I first had sex with all of my guys.
But what gets my attention is the black and white border collie that runs up to the door with his tongue hanging out. I throw the door open and run outside to greet him.
“Oh my god, you’re adorable,” I say, scratching him behind his ear. He’s so sweet and affectionate. He puts all of his weight against me and looks up at me with the most adoring eyes. He has a collar on. I look at the tag. It reads: Speedo. I laugh at the weird name.
“Let me guess. You guys named him,” I say. It sounds like something they would come up with.
“Actually, no, he already had a name. We adopted him from the shelter.”
I hug the dog’s neck and he melts into me.
“He’s perfect. You are all perfect.” I swipe at the tears rolling down my cheeks. “Everything is so incredibly perfect.”
I wish I could stay in this day forever. I have my guys, my dream house, and now my dog. I couldn’t possibly be happier than I am right at this moment.
“Let’s eat then go check out the rest of the house,” Trey says.
Winston had brought Thai food, which was why he came separate from the others. It’s in the kitchen, piled on the counter. The kitchen is enormous. Dark wood cabinets, solid granite counter tops. Two refrigerators that blend in with the cabinets. Two stoves as if whoever designed this house had been prepared for a cook-off. Looks like a kitchen made for Iron Chef. I guess I’ll need to become a better cook if I’m going to do this room justice. I want to deserve a place like this. And if I’m going to have a kitchen taking up this much space, I want to make it worth it.
I scarf down my food, too excited about seeing the rest of the place to take my time nibbling daintily. Since the others eat like starving animals on any given day, dinner doesn’t take long and we head for the tour.
There’s not much in the way of furniture. Just a few things brought over from the old apartment. Half the fun is going to be decorating this place. There are six bedrooms upstairs, one for each of us to have a private place. They all have bathrooms, so no more fighting over the showers. Downstairs are four more bedrooms. One is converted into an office, two of them are for guests, and the other is locked.
I jiggle the handle. “Why is this one locked?” I ask.
Jason laughs. “This here is the best room in the house. You’re key, my lady,” he says, bowing like a dork. He’s so cute and nerdy, I can’t help but giggle.
But inside the room is no laughing matter.
“Oh. My. God,” I say, spinning around to get the whole picture.
It’s a sex room. The one he’d always wanted. There are shelves full of sex toys. Contraptions that look like medieval torture devices. A Sybian sex machine. There is a wall dedicated to different types and flavors of lube. In the center there’s a bed with handcuffs dangling from a post. There are different tools for spanking and other kinks. I have a feeling we’re going to get a lot of use out of this room.
When I glance at my boys they have that hungry look in their eyes I’ve become accustomed to.
“Shall we break in the new place?” I ask.
They practically tackle me to the bed, and I couldn’t possibly be happier than I am in this moment.
THE END
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VIRGIN IN THE MIDDLE
Copyright © 2017 Penny Wylder
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.
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One
I stand outside my new home for the next year—an intimidatingly tall brick building, already teeming with life on this the first day of our freshman year. There are a few dozen people streaming in and out, some of them hugging their parents, others rolling their eyes as their moms cry and their dads lecture. I spot more than a few people I recognize from the orientation week slides that I’ve spent the last month poring over. Call me a nerd, but I like to know who—and what—I’m getting into in any new situation.
And what situation could be more important to prep for than college?
This is my first time out on my own. I made my parents leave my stuff on the curb before I bid them farewell because I want to move in on my own. The same way that I want to approach this year. It’s all on me now—to succeed, to finish my biology degree, hopefully at the top of the class the way I was in high school. After that, it’ll be a master’s program, and then a research position at one of the top labs in the country. I’ve already mapped out which one I want to wind up in. There are pictures of the building taped to my vision board to remind me to keep my head in the game.
I’m not going to fall prey to any of the usual freshman year dilemmas. Not me. I am here to get my degree, not to party or drink or hook-up.
Afte
r all, I’m still a virgin, so it won’t be hard for me to avoid that particular temptation. You can’t miss what you haven’t tried—and I sure as hell don’t think I’m missing out on random hook-ups. There’s no way I will let myself lose my focus (not to mention my mind) over some guy.
I smile and scoop up my bags, shouldering the first of what will be several rounds of lifting. But that’s fine by me. It’s good exercise.
Of course, when I find out my room is seven flights up, and the elevators are stuffed with people lugging furniture and TVs, I start to regret my choice to tell Mom and Dad they could go home early.
I’m sweaty and panting by the time I reach the top of the stairs, and I know there’s still at least 2 more loads of my crap waiting downstairs for me to carry up. Why, oh why, did I think I needed to bring so many clothes? Surely I could’ve made do with just one bag of sweatpants and a couple of hoodies. Why did I add professional dresses and pant suits into the mix?
Ridiculous, Cassidy, I scold myself as I stagger down the hallway to my room and fit the key into the lock. I shoulder it open, groaning as I heave my bag across the threshold. What a great first impression I’ll make on my new roommates. I wonder what the girls will be like as the door swings inward. After all, the school checked with me to be sure I’d be all right with a triple room, and I said, of course, I’m up for living with anyone. I wanted to play the roommate lottery, see who they picked for me because this year is also about expanding my own network. I want to meet other badass girls like me, working their way through this highly-acclaimed university.
So I paste a broad smile on my face in spite of my sweaty, tired posture, as the door finishes swinging open.
Then I freeze in place.
No.
No way.
There must be some mistake.
My mouth hangs open, making me look even crazier than I must already, lugging these bags in here, into what is clearly the wrong room.
“Sorry,” I stammer, looking back and forth from the occupied room to the key in my hand.
Because standing in the middle of this three-person room, the one the desk told me to go to, the one my key worked to open, are two half-naked guys.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re hot as hell, wearing sporty shorts, soccer cleats, and nothing else. Their sharply defined muscles glisten in the dim light of the dorm room. One is tan with dark hair and dark eyes. He’s halfway through chugging a bottle of Gatorade, but he freezes midway to sweep his eyes over me when I enter. The other is his polar opposite, blond and blue-eyed, your stereotypical white-bread American guy. From the bag slung over his shoulder, with its distinctive loop shape at the top, I guess they play for the lacrosse team. I’d heard the school has a really good team, top of the varsity leagues.
Finally, my face flushes as my brain kicks back into functioning. “There must be some mistake. I’ll just… Go… Ask the front desk…” I back out of the room, starting to ease the door shut behind me.
But one of them, the blond, launches across the room to catch it before I can shut it completely. “Cassidy?” he asks. “Cassidy Brown?”
If anything, my blush only worsens. Why does he know my name? “Yes?”
“Anthony,” he says, sticking out a hand. I accept it, if only because I don’t know what the hell else to do right now. His hand feels hot in mine, his skin flushed from exertion. They must have just finished practice—I can smell the sweat on Anthony, though it’s a good scent. Heady and masculine, all salt and pine and outdoors. I stare up into his deep blue eyes, unable to look away. That is, until he releases my hand, which feels suddenly cold without his touch, and points a thumb over his shoulder. “And that’s Vin.”
Vin, for his part, flashes me a cocky wink that does strange, twisty things to my stomach. I can feel a flutter behind my belly-button, and it makes me want to sprint out of here faster than ever. But I can’t because Vin is speaking now. Saying words that don’t make sense, not in English, not in a way I can comprehend. “We’re your roommates, Cassidy.”
Fuck.
I scowl. “Not possible,” I say, shaking my head.
“Here, let me take that for you,” Anthony offers, grabbing the bag from my shoulder before I can protest. Before I can even figure out what’s going on. He turns and tosses it onto my bed, across from their bunk beds on the far wall.
“We saved you the bigger bed since we’re used to sharing,” Vin adds, striding across the room to take my other bag.
“Stop, stop, stop,” I say, grabbing my stuff. They both look back at me, eyebrows raised, expectant. “This can’t be right. Aren’t we… I mean… Isn’t this… I didn’t think the rooms were coed.”
“You didn’t read the website?” Vin lifts an eyebrow. He’s still wearing an infuriating, cocky smirk. “It was right on the main page. A new change they’re trying this year. Progression, and all that.”
My face burns red-hot. Not only am I stuck rooming with two guys, but they somehow read something I missed? Even after all of my preparation… How could I have missed an update this big? “But…”
Anthony steps back over to me. He stands right in the doorway, just inches away from me, towering over me. And grinning down at me, his blue eyes infuriatingly clear and innocent-seeming. “This won’t be a problem for you, will it? After all, the administration said you put you were willing to share with anyone on your form…”
Shit. “I didn’t think—”
“Anyone didn’t include guys?” Anthony guesses, tilting his head as his blue eyes catch mine. “You don’t think we’ll get along?”
“It’s not… I mean. I don’t know you…” I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “It’s nothing personal. This is just…”
“Unexpected?” Vin asks, joining Anthony beside me. He smirks still, watching me carefully. “That’s kind of the point of this year, though, isn’t it? College changes everyone in unexpected ways.”
Between the two of them, my head starts to spin. They’re both gorgeous but in opposite ways. Vin is all dark, bad boy looks, the devil on one shoulder brought to life, while Anthony is the angel on the other. Except this time, the devil and the angel have ganged up against me.
I scowl, hoping they’ll misread the hot flush on my skin as anger instead of what I fear it really is…
Attraction.
“There’s unexpected, and then there’s crazy.”
“What’s the matter? Do you think something else unexpected might happen if you room with us?” Anthony doesn’t move, doesn’t touch me, but he doesn’t need to. His eyes feel like a touch, that’s how closely he’s staring at my body, studying my curves. Making me hot all over.
I snort. “Of course not.”
“Well then, what’s the harm in sharing a bedroom?” Vin’s smirk widens. “If you’re so sure nothing will happen…”
“It’s just…” Shit. He’s got me there. I mean, what is the problem, truly? How is this different from sharing with girls? I already know myself—I am single-minded and determined. I’ve never been swayed by a hot guy before. Why would this be any different? I shake my head and shoulder between them into the room. My shoulders brush both of their chests at once—their bare chests—and it takes everything I have not to shiver in delight at the touch.
“Nothing. There’s no problem,” I say, striding over to my bed to unzip my bag. “It’s fine.”
“Good.” When I turn back around, Anthony is leaning in the doorway, studying me, as Vin goes back to changing.
When Vin strips off his shorts, down to his boxers, I flush bright red and turn back around. Though not before catching a glimpse of the bulge at his crotch, or his long, muscular, totally tanned legs.
“I… Er… I left some stuff downstairs…” I start to say, but Anthony beats me to it.
“What do your bags look like?” he asks, straightening, and grabbing a T-shirt from his top bunk bed. “I’ll grab them.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t, it’s—”
> “Least we can do to make up for making our lovely new roomie uncomfortable on day one,” he interrupts, narrowing his eyes at me with a pointed smile.
Now I feel even worse. Not only did I react horribly, but they’re being so nice about it. Ugh. “Um… They’re just black bags, like this one, but with pink tags…” I nudge my bag with a toe. “I’ll come with you.”
He shakes his head. “It’s no trouble. Stay here, unpack. Get to know Vin,” he adds, with a wink that makes me glance over at Vin’s side of the room.
Oh, god. Vin has nothing but a towel on now, wrapped around his waist, displaying the pointed V of muscles that lead straight to his groin. I feel like I’m in the movie Fight Club come to life, standing between Brad Pitt and a more muscular Ed Norton.
“Um,” I reply.
But when I turn back around, Anthony is already gone.
“Don’t mind him,” Vin adds as he bends over, scooping up a shower caddy, and sliding on flip-flops. “He just has a hero complex about helping beautiful damsels in distress.” His eyes dart back over my body as he says that, and I didn’t know I could blush this much. Shit.
The tingle of tension in my belly starts to unknot, growing into something stronger. It’s Vin I can smell now, as heady as Anthony, but somehow darker. Anthony smells like pine trees and fresh air and a mountain hike, whereas Vin is more like the earthy smell after a sudden rain. Real, tangible. Way too close to me.
“Sorry I reacted so badly,” I add, swallowing hard to ignore the tightening in my throat, the dryness in my mouth. “I was just surprised. It’s not that I hate guys or anything.”
“I certainly hope you don’t,” he responds, laughing. “That would be a sad day for our half of the species.”
To distract myself, I turn away and start rooting through my bags. “So did you guys play the roommate lottery too?” I ask, my back to him.
“No,” Vin responds, surprising me. “I’ve known Anthony since we were kids. But we wanted to room with a third person. Change it up a bit.”
