The Cad and the Co-Ed

by Penny Reid

  She looked embarrassed, like I’d just suggested mutual masturbation. Although that was something I wouldn’t mind trying sometime, too.

  “You honestly don’t have to buy us anything. Just being there for Patrick, spending time with him, is enough. He really likes you.”

  “I really like him. Actually, I love him.”

  “I know you do,” Eilish replied quietly. The statement surprised me.

  “You do?”

  She glanced at me for a second and then back out the window. “When you first saw him, I could just tell. It was like witnessing love at first sight.”

  I reached out and squeezed her knee. “It was. I never thought to describe it like that, but that’s exactly what it felt like.”

  We shared a weighted look, then I focused on driving. I didn’t move my hand, and instead brushed my thumb back and forth over her knee. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw her shiver.

  “Bryan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What made you decide to quit drinking?” Her curious eyes rested on my profile. My hand reflexively tightened on the steering wheel, and I blew out a breath.

  “Kind of a heavy question for our first date,” I said.

  “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it we can—”

  “No, it’s fine. You just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

  She chewed on her lip. “It’s just, you seem so different now than before. I can’t imagine what might’ve spurred you to make such a massive change.”

  I turned my head to glance at her, then back to the road. “They were going to fire me.”

  Her mouth fell open. “From the team?”

  “Yep. I showed up on the day of a Six Nations match drunk off my arse and unfit to play. Coach told me if I didn’t get on a program and get sober, I could kiss my place on the squad goodbye. Don’t get me wrong, I’d been pushing my luck for a while, and Coach was tired of giving me more and more chances that I just ended up throwing back in his face. It was rock bottom for me, especially since a few days previously I’d discovered my girlfriend stole my credit card and ran up almost 50k in spending.”

  “Oh my goodness, did you call the police?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but she’d left the country by then. Probably purchased herself a one-way ticket to Ibiza.”

  “That’s so awful,” she exclaimed, looking truly horrified.

  “Those are the kinds of people you attract when you’re an addict. Other scumbags.”

  She frowned. “You weren’t a scumbag.”

  “I appreciate you defending me and all, but I was. Just look at what I did to you.”

  I expected her to agree with me, but all I saw in her eyes was empathy. Christ, this woman. She really was too good for me.

  “Anyway, I’m not gonna lie. It was hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I fell off the wagon a few times before I eventually found a balance.”

  She stared me, genuinely interested. “Yeah?”

  “It’s all in the routine for me. I need predictability. The same thing every day. That’s why you saw me get so pissed when my neighbors were throwing that party. They were interrupting my routine.”

  I thought she might chuckle at the memory. Hell, even I could admit it was funny. I was a thirty-year-old guy acting like a curmudgeonly old codger. But she didn’t laugh. Instead, she frowned deeply.

  “Surely that’s not sustainable though. You need to be able to allow for some spontaneity. You can’t predict what each day is going to bring.”

  “Of course not. I know that. I just need my routine and my comforts, that’s all.”

  Eilish considered me for a long moment. “You should do something spontaneous today. Something out of character.”

  I shot her a perplexed look. “Why?”

  “Because, like I said, it’s not healthy to be completely set in your ways. It’s too rigid, and life is way too flexible. You could end up losing your rag and breaking your sobriety.”

  I stared at her, deadly serious. “I’ll never drink again, Eilish. I promise you that.”

  “And I believe you, but I still think you should try it. Besides, doing new things can be fun.” She paused and reached over to pinch my cheek. “If you act like a serious, cranky old grandad all the time you might just turn into one. Or worse, develop a penchant for hemorrhoid cream,” she teased with a pretty smile.

  I couldn’t help it. That smile of hers was way too persuasive. My mouth curved as I replied, “Fine, but you have to do it, too. We can embrace a new experience together.”

  She held out her hand. “It’s a deal.”

  When we arrived at the marina in Howth, we parked and I led her toward the private docks. She walked ahead of me, and I absolutely checked out the round, heart-shaped curve of her arse. My thoughts were running away from me, picturing her bent forward, legs spread, as I—

  “Are we going for seafood?” she asked curiously.

  I shook my head, my voice tight as I responded. “Nope. We’re going out on the water.” Jesus, get a hold of yourself and show some respect. Stop fantasizing about her for two fucking seconds.

  “Oh. Are there some kind of tourist boats that leave from here?”

  I shook my head again and didn’t speak until we stood in front of the Carver C37 Coupe I’d borrowed from a friend. He only used it a few times a year and mostly it stayed at the marina, going to no good use.

  “We’re taking this baby out,” I told her and hopped on before reaching for her hand. She took a step back.

  “That’s a yacht.” She appeared a little dumbstruck.

  “Are you afraid of the water?”

  “No. It’s just . . . is this yours?”

  “No. Belongs to a friend.”

  “Oh.” She sighed, sounding strangely relieved, but then asked, “Do you know how to drive it?”

  “Of course. I’m great with boats. I even rowed when I was at school.”

  She laughed. “A yacht and a row boat are not the same thing, and you know it.”

  Struck by a sudden impulse to touch her, I stepped one foot off the boat, grabbed her by the waist, lifted her, and deposited her on the vessel. She yelped and gripped me tightly. I didn’t let go of her, liking the feel of her in my arms too much.

  “Bryan . . .” She exhaled, our mouths inches apart, her wide eyes moving between mine.

  I leaned forward and whispered, “Just tell me you can swim.”

  “Bryan!” She grinned, smacking my arm.

  I chuckled. “Relax, I’m joking. You’re safe with me. I’ll always take good care of you.”

  Eilish flinched, something flickering behind her eyes at my words, and I released her. I frowned at her expression but before I could question her, she tossed her thumb over her shoulder. “I—uh—need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure, sure. It’s downstairs. I’ll be up top.”

  She nodded tightly and left me on the deck. I stared at the spot she’d vacated for a minute, replaying our conversation, trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong. When a couple minutes passed and she still hadn’t returned, I went down to make sure she was all right.

  She’d just emerged from the bathroom when I reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, studying her features. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

  “I was just splashing some water over my face,” she explained.

  “Yeah?” I was hardly listening to a word she said, too engrossed in how she’d taken off her coat to reveal a baggy jumper that hung off one shoulder, exposing smooth, glowing skin.

  “Bryan?” She said my name like a question, but there was a slight hitch in her voice.

  I reached out and caressed her shoulder. “You’ve got the most beautiful skin, do you know that?”

  She didn’t answer, only lowered her eyes to the floor.

  “Eilish, look at me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why
not?”

  She bit her lip. “This is really difficult.”

  “What is?” My heart beat like a maniac, fear seizing my chest.

  Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t push me away.

  “Being alone with you.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I—I keep thinking about what happened last week, with us.”

  “Do you regret it?” The question was out before I could stop myself. I moved an inch closer, needing to be near her.

  “No.” Her answer sounded desperate and confused. Lifting her eyes to mine, I saw her expression mirrored her voice. “And yes. I . . .” her stare dropped to my lips, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  Yes.

  I had a hand in her hair and another on her ass—how did that get there?—growling as I pulled her to me, then backed her up against the wall. It was so small in here my head was literally an inch away from the ceiling. Eilish gasped in surprise right before I dropped my mouth to hers.

  If she wanted spontaneity, I’d give her spontaneity.

  These weeks had been a lesson in endurance and my reserves had finally run dry. By the way her body moved against me when I sank my tongue into her mouth, it had clearly been just as much of a struggle for her.

  I liked that, liked the idea of her wanting me this way.

  Within seconds, my hand was under her jumper, skimming across the tops of her breasts. They were so soft, but the barriers between us frustrated me. I didn’t think. Just felt. I tugged her top up over her head. Oh, fuck me. She was braless. I groaned, taking just a second to admire her naked breasts before I bent to suck her nipple into my mouth. She made a loud noise of pleasure that reverberated through me, her hands gripping my shoulders.

  Mark me, my mind screamed. Claim me.

  But she didn’t. Her hands were hesitant, and her hesitation frustrated me.

  My mouth parted from her breast long enough to lift her by the hips and carry her across to the bed. Being alone with Eilish like this, being intimate, made my entire body soar. It coiled tight and relaxed simultaneously. She soothed something inside me and at the same time made me savage.

  I drowned in the scent of that seductive fucking perfume. For the rest of my life, the smell of watermelons was going to be an unlikely aphrodisiac.

  “Something new, right?” I breathed.

  Her eyes were foggy with arousal when she gazed at me, nodding as her moans urged me on.

  I kissed my way down her body, tracing the goose pimples that danced along her flesh with my lips. She shuddered. When I reached her belly button, I kissed her stomach as my hands hooked into the band of her leggings. Breath whooshed out of her when I tugged them down over her hips to reveal black lace underwear. I ran my finger under the elastic and shot her a devilish grin.

  “I like these. I’m going to keep them.”

  She flushed and made a low keening sound when I pressed my mouth to the lacy fabric. I dragged her knickers down her thighs until she was bare, tucking them into my pocket, then lifted both her legs and settled them over my shoulders. Damn, she looked amazing. Her sex glistened in the low light as I spread her long legs.

  “Eilish,” I whispered, dragging my lips over her tender flesh lightly, hardly touching her but still making her shake with pleasure.

  “Y-yes?” she whispered back, her voice full of longing and anticipation. Her touch might have been light and hesitant, but she wanted me. That much was clear.

  “Feel this.”

  Her lips parted on an exhale right before I sank my mouth onto her flesh. She was so soft and wet. I licked and sucked her skin, my cock a steel rod. My jeans weren’t tight, but my erection made them stiff to the point of pain. Her moans filled the small cabin but they were muffled. She was holding back and I needed her to scream my name.

  I pressed my hand against her inner thigh and used the other to rub circles over her clit. She closed her eyes and arched her hips off the mattress. I growled and ate at her deeper. Her thighs clenched around me and I knew she was nearly there. I lapped at her sensitive nerve endings as my fingers brought her to orgasm. The moment she shattered I felt it rumble through me. The sounds she made, the way she shook, how she cried out my name, it all drove me over the edge.

  After that, I was more instinct than man. I lifted my shirt over my head and made quick work of taking off my jeans and boxers. Eilish lay sated on the bed, the movement of the waves causing the boat to rock gently back and forth.

  I hooked my fingers behind her knees and moved between her legs, ready to plunge inside when I remembered. I wasn’t wearing a condom. Shit. Her eyes asked a question. Mine stared right back in agony.

  “My bag,” she breathed, her words a life raft in a bottomless ocean.

  I didn’t even hesitate to grab her bag from the floor a few feet from the bed. I handed it to her and a moment later she produced a small foil packet. My lips cracked into a grin as I took it and climbed back between her legs.

  “Came prepared, did we?”

  She blushed a deep, delectable shade of red. “It’s been there a while, if you must know.”

  I grinned even wider, my eyes catching on her hair, a fiery halo around her shoulders. “You are so beautiful.”

  “Bryan.”

  “What is it, gorgeous?” I murmured, palming one breast and then the other, admiring the light sheen of perspiration on her skin.

  “Can you please just stop talking,” she replied, and I let out a low, throaty chuckle.

  “Bossy. I like it.”

  She started to scowl, but it transformed into a look of pleasure when I grabbed the base of my dick and brushed the head over her sex. I had the condom on now, and though I wished to be with her skin to skin, I knew it was necessary to build trust. One night long ago, I’d had her trust, and from the way she’d steered clear of me when we met again a few weeks ago, I’d clearly crushed it under my boot. I wanted to cherish what she offered me now. I wanted her to know me, trust me. Forgive me. And I’d start with giving her the best boat sex of her life.

  Fuck it, I’d give her the best sex of her life. Period.

  I rose, bracing my hands on either side of her and pushed forward with my hips. My cock nudged inside her at the same time my head knocked the roof of the boat.

  Stupid slanted ceilings, ruining my efforts at expert sexing.

  Eilish let out a quiet giggle, and I grinned down at her. We shared a moment of just smiling at one another, finding humor in the moment. Then I slowly pushed into her again, this time filling her inch by inch, and the smile fled her features, desire taking its place.

  I’d never forget that look.

  I’d never forget seeing her like this.

  I’d never forget another moment with her for the rest of my life.

  I held myself above her, savoring how hot and perfect and amazing she felt. I trembled, overcome with sensation. My eyes closed. My jaw clenched tight. This was my first time inside a woman in two years and it felt incredible, better than I could’ve ever imagined.

  Because it’s her.

  Emotion overtook me, my heart drumming away inside my chest. She had no idea how much I felt for her, how deeply I was falling in love with her.

  Soft, searching hands found my face, her words gentle and concerned. “Bryan, what’s wrong?”

  I tried shaking it off. “Nothing. It’s just . . . been a while.”

  She swallowed and nodded. “For me, too.”

  “I might not last very long,” I warned self-deprecatingly.

  A husky laugh escaped her. “That’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. I want to make this good for you.” I stole a kiss, needing her lips.

  She blew out a breath. “Believe me, it is good. More than good.”

  “I want to last longer than two minutes,” I went on.

  “Bryan,” she said, her voice firmer now.

  I stared down at her. She looked so effortlessly sexy. So natural. So made for me. “What?”

  “Just
shut up and fuck me.”

  Her order obliterated my fears and with tender affection I lowered my lips to hers. The kiss started out light and playful, but as I started to move, slowly sinking in and out of her, it deepened. Our tongues waged a war as my movements sped up. Her thighs tightened around my hips, her beaded nipples brushing against my bare chest and driving me crazy.

  I broke the kiss to suck in a harsh breath, thrusting. She clenched around my dick and I groaned loudly. Jesus. Fuck.

  My hand found her neck, so delicate, so breakable. I loved how vulnerable she looked beneath me, how trusting and conquered. Her cheeks flushed, lips red and bruised from my kiss. I gripped her neck gently and the noise she made ricocheted around the cabin. She wasn’t quiet; she wasn’t hesitating. It was that noise and the sight of her spread wide for me, our bodies joined in the most intimate of ways, that sent me over the edge.

  I came with ungraceful thrusts, a rough grunt, capturing her lips again as I spilled inside her. Her arms encircled my shoulders, and she held me until I was empty and sated. I crashed to the bed, disposed of the condom, and pulled her half on top of me, holding her close and burying my nose in the crook of her neck.

  Holy shit.

  “How was that for spontaneous?” I whispered huskily as my hand wandered down her naked body, finding her clit and rubbing.

  “You p-pass with flying colors,” she answered on a moan, shifting against me.

  I smiled, satisfied, and used my other hand to palm her pert little backside and squeeze. I slid a finger inside her and groaned at the feel of her.

  When she came for the second time, it was harder, more intense. The way she breathed, how she shook when she orgasmed was branded into my memory. We lay in peaceful quiet for a little while, just holding each other. I absentmindedly stroked her breasts, her stomach, her collarbone. Mine now.

  “Are we going to be late?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “For what?”

  “For wherever you’re taking me.”

  “Oh.” I’d forgotten about our date. Well, the details of it, anyway.

  “No. We’re not. Not at all.”

  She bent her neck to smile up at me. “Good.”

  I waggled my brows at her. “So, are you having a good time on our first proper date?”