The Freshman

by Monica Murphy

  “You’re the one who brought it up,” I point out.

  He smiles. “I guess you’re right.”

  I decide to change the subject first. “Are you in this frat?” I ask him.

  “No. Caleb is. So is Jackson. I don’t like hanging out with so many people all the damn time.” He sends me a meaningful look. “I half-expected to find you here tonight.”

  I arch my brow. “Do I look like the hang-out-at-a-frat-party-every-weekend type?”

  “No. I think it was more wishful thinking on my part.”

  Aw. That was a sweet admission.

  “My roommate and I went straight home after the game,” I say.

  “Why?”

  “We don’t really go to the games that much.” If at all. “Once it was done and we struggled with getting out of the parking lot for so long, we were kind of over the entire evening.”

  “I get it,” he says with a nod.

  “You want me to be real with you right now?”

  His dark eyes linger on mine, his expression intense. “I always want you to be real with me.”

  “I half-expected you to ask me to meet you somewhere when I sent you that text earlier.” I’d been trying to flirt, but it came out sort of bratty and had a very ‘told you so’ vibe. “You sent me a smiley face. That was it.”

  “I was busy.”

  Ouch.

  “With someone else?” Ugh. I sound jealous. I need to stop.

  “With the team,” he stresses.

  Oh. I figured he found some other girl to talk to. Hook up with.

  “Did you think I was with a girl?” he asks when I still haven’t said anything.

  “You have every right to see whoever you want. We’re nothing serious,” I say haughtily, immediately hating my tone. I have no claim on him.

  “Because I did talk to some girls earlier,” he says.

  My stomach knots up and I’m grateful I didn’t drink any beer. I’d probably puke it back up.

  “Are you trying to make me jealous?” I raise a brow, pretending I’m not bothered.

  But I am. I’m bothered.

  A lot.

  “No. I’m just telling you the truth.”

  He remains quiet, which drives me crazy. “What happened with those girls?” I try to keep my tone casual, but I’m pretty sure I’m failing.

  His arm drops so it’s wrapped around my shoulders. “Wait a minute. Are you actually jealous?”

  I lift my chin, secretly enjoying the heavy weight of his arm pressing on me. “Of course not.”

  “Can I admit something?”

  I turn to look at him and find he’s already staring at me. “What?”

  “None of them interested me.”

  Those knots start to loosen, and I feel instantly lighter. “Why not?”

  “Because I kept thinking about you.”

  Oh. The knots are completely undone. I’m nothing but air.

  I part my lips, breathless from his forthright admission. “Okay, bu—”

  I don’t even get the word out before his mouth lands on mine, silencing me. His lips are soft and warm. The kiss is tame. Honestly? It should be unmemorable. Just our mouths connecting, no tongue involved. Our lips barely parted.

  This moment shouldn’t be such a big deal.

  But that first touch of his mouth on mine and sparks ignite all over my body. His hand cups my shoulder, gently pulling me toward him. I rest my hand on his thigh to brace myself, startled by the hard, lean muscle beneath my palm. He breaks the kiss first, his gaze lingering on my mouth, his tongue wetting his lips.

  Something unfurls within me at seeing his tongue. Something warm and liquid that I want to feel again.

  And again.

  Leaning in, I kiss him this time. And oh God.

  Oh God.

  Sparks fly between our lips. The kiss is electrifying. Even better than that kiss we shared in his bedroom a few nights ago. A whimper of surprise escapes me. He groans low in his throat, cupping my cheek with his free hand, his touch firm as he parts my lips with his tongue. It goes on for long, delicious moments. Lips connecting, breaking apart, reconnecting. Tongues sliding. Circling. He licks at my upper lip teasingly. I bite his lower lip, my teeth coming together slowly, tugging.

  Again, he breaks away first, his chest rising and falling rapidly with every panting breath. “That wasn’t a friendly kiss.”

  I slowly shake my head, enjoying how rattled he appears. I wonder if I look the same. “Not at all,” I agree.

  “I thought that was all you wanted.”

  “Don’t forget I was the one who asked if the friends with benefits deal was still on the table.” Reaching out, I rest my hand against his firm chest, his rapidly beating heart pounding a steady rhythm beneath my palm. “You’re very persuasive.”

  He actually grins. “You think I’m persuasive?”

  “I think your lips are,” I tell him truthfully.

  He leans in for a brief kiss, and I feel the brush of his lips all the way down to my toes. “Wait until you meet the rest of me.”

  Thirteen

  Tony

  We end up in the back seat of my Rover. The moment she shuts the door, I’m pulling her close. Until she’s on top of me, straddling me, her hot body pressed to mine, our mouths locked. The longer we kiss, the steamier the interior of my car gets, until the windows are fogged and my hand is up her shirt, fingers curled around the thin lace of her bra.

  She laughs against my mouth. Gasps when I press my thumb against her hard nipple. “I’m not fucking you in the back seat of your car, Sorrento.”

  “Didn’t want to fuck you back here,” I murmur against her lips, just before I dive in for another kiss. She has this way of curling her tongue around mine that makes me shiver.

  Makes me pretty fucking hard too.

  Or maybe I’m hard because of the way she grinds on me. Her lower body is flush against mine, and I swear I can feel the heat of her, even through her jeans and mine. I slide my hands down her back, until they rest on her ass. It’s round and perfect and squeezable and I do just that, pulling her into me. As close as she can get.

  She gasps into my mouth, a shuddery sigh escaping her. “What are we doing?”

  I chuckle. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

  She tilts her head to the right, her mouth landing on my neck. She kisses and licks me there, and fuck me, that feels good. “You are too good looking.”

  “Thank you?” Is she trying to insult me?

  “And you smell fucking amazing.” She sniffs my neck. Nips my earlobe. “Your hair is so soft.”

  She runs her fingers through it, making me shiver.

  “And your dick is really.” She shifts her hips. “Really.” She presses firmly against me, whimpering. “Hard.”

  I tighten my grip on her ass, lifting her. Lowering her. She takes the hint, rubbing against me in earnest, her mouth on mine once more. We’re going at it. Dry humping in the back seat of my car, our breaths accelerating, my heart thumping. I do not want to come in my jeans. Fuck that. But if she keeps this up.

  I’m probably going to.

  Her rhythm quickens and I remove a hand from her ass, slipping it up the front of her shirt, curling my fingers around her breast once more. I tug the lace down, toying with her nipple, circling it again and again. A strangled cry sounds low in her throat, her entire body going still for only a moment, just before she starts to quake.

  “Oh God,” she whispers against my lips and I crack open my eyes, pulling away from her slightly so I can watch.

  Watch Hayden come.

  Her eyes are still closed, her lips parted. Her hands grip on my shoulders and her lower body still grinds against me. I’m still grinding against her, my hand still under her shirt, cupping her. She’s panting. And once the shivering subsides, her lips curl into the faintest smile as she slowly opens her eyes.

  “Um.” She’s full-blown grinning.

  “Yeah.” I smile at her in
return, our chests rising and falling, brushing against each other. I lean back against the seat, taking her with me, our mouths meeting in a lingering kiss. “You enjoyed that.”

  “A lot,” she says with a laugh.

  I swallow the sound, kissing her deeply, sliding my hand around her neck, up into her silky hair. This girl is twisting me up inside. Making me feel things I didn’t think I could. She’s fun, flirty, contrary, a challenge, yet easy to talk to. To be with. To give an orgasm to.

  Or maybe she gave herself that orgasm. She was grinding pretty hard on my cock just now.

  “But what about you?” she asks, her lips brushing mine. She reaches between us, her fingers trailing over the front of my jeans, making me suck in a sharp breath. “Let me.”

  I kiss her hungrily, starved for her. The girl doesn’t even hesitate. She’s undoing the front of my jeans, her hand slipping inside, stroking the front of my boxer briefs. She curls her fingers around the length of my dick, essentially feeling me up before they dive beneath the cotton, her busy fingers meeting my bare flesh.

  “Ah shit,” I grunt out when she gives me a squeeze.

  She pauses everything she’s doing. “Want me to stop?”

  “Fuck no,” I grit out and she laughs, just before she kisses me again.

  She strokes and teases. Her pace slow. Fast. Gentle. A little rough. I lift my ass, and she tugs my jeans and briefs down so they’re curled beneath my knees. I’m reaching for her too, my fingers going to the snap on her jeans but she jerks her hips away.

  “This is about you,” she whispers.

  Just before she readjusts herself and bends down, her mouth landing on my cock.

  “Fuck.” The word is stuck in my throat, my hand in her hair as she bobs up and down on my dick. She licks the head. Sucks it. Her hair falls over her face, over me so I can’t see what’s happening and I brush it back to watch this gorgeous girl work me over with her mouth.

  I am visual. What guy isn’t? And seeing her hunched over me, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucks me deep, I know it’s not going to take long. The sensation is building at the base of my spine. My cock. I’m gonna shoot off like a goddamn rocket here any second.

  As if she knows, she strokes me with her fingers, her mouth sucking. I lift my hips, offering up a warning cry right before the orgasm takes over me.

  She removes her mouth from my cock, and I come all over her fingers, watching helplessly, her hand still gripping me tight, squeezing every last drop out of me. Holy fuck.

  Holy. Fuck.

  Once the shuddering has subsided, she drops a sweet kiss on the tip of my semi-hard dick just before she moves up, her face in mine.

  “Um,” I tell her, at a complete loss for words.

  She laughs. “I felt the same exact way.”

  We kiss. I can taste myself on her lips, but I don’t mind. Fuck, it makes me hornier, but she pulls away, a sly smile on her face.

  “Like I told you, I’m not about to have sex with you in the back seat of your Rover, like that damn song,” she says with a laugh, reaching for the Kleenex package that’s stashed in the pocket on the back of the driver’s seat, wiping off her hands with a couple of tissues.

  I frown, thinking for a moment before I finally remember the song. “Whatever happened to those guys anyway?”

  “Who? The Chainsmokers?” She shrugs when I nod. “I don’t know.”

  “Me neither.” I reach for her again, needing more. Another kiss. A little tongue. Closeness. I don’t want to stop looking at this girl. Or touching this girl. “This has been the best night.”

  “I’m sure,” she says wryly, giving me a firm kiss before she pulls away completely. “I should go.”

  I tug up my underwear and jeans, righting myself as best I can while she’s watching me, her teeth sunk into her lower lip. “When can I see you again?” I ask.

  “Soon.” She reaches for the door handle. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other on campus.”

  I frown. She baffles me, but not in a bad way. Why can’t she just say, let’s get together tomorrow, or whatever.

  “You really think so?” I ask.

  She opens the car door, a rush of cool air filling the steamy interior. “Oh I know so. See you around, Tony.”

  I watch her go, flinching when she slams the door. Leaning my head back, I stare at the car roof, shaking my head.

  How is it that I’m the one who just got a blow job, yet I feel…used?

  Not in a bad way. Not at all. I just can’t figure this girl out.

  Yet.

  Fooling around with a pretty girl in my car after being a part of a team that won an important game leaves you sitting on top of the world.

  This is how I feel as I go about my Sunday. I can’t stop thinking about what happened between Hayden and I last night. To the point that I’ve pretty much forgotten about the game win. My moment with Hayden is in the forefront of my mind. Talk about hot. The entire experience leaves me wanting more.

  More time with Hayden. More kissing, touching, all of it with Hayden.

  What we’re doing isn’t something I’m overly familiar with. Meaning, I’m not an expert at this relationship stuff. Hooking up stuff? Yes, I’ve hooked up with a few girls since Sophie, but never one I actually wanted to continue seeing. And Sophie was never forward with me. I made all the moves, and they were unsure and a little awkward, because I had no idea what the hell I was doing.

  With Hayden, it’s like a cat and mouse game. Bait and switch. Whatever. I don’t feel like I’m being tricked, but it’s actually…

  Fun.

  The flirting. The banter. The innuendo. The kissing. The everything else. She’s a challenge. She plays hard to get, yet flaunts what she’s got right in front of me. Like she wants me to chase. And I do.

  She’s a smart one, Hayden Channing. Left me sitting in my car wanting more of her. All of her. I admitted she was all I could think about before. Now?

  I’m fucking obsessed.

  I went home and jerked off in the shower to the memories of our encounter. Those whimpers she made when we kissed. Her taste. The sting of her teeth when she bit my lower lip. Watching her come. Watching her swallow my cock. It was hot. A moment I won’t ever forget.

  Now I’m desperate to make more moments with her.

  Homework calls, but I don’t want to do it, so I distract myself with laundry. The great thing about laundry is I can still think about Hayden while I do it. Homework would require all of my concentration, and I’m not feeling it.

  When do I ever feel it? I’m not stupid. I get good grades. Even when I bailed on football practice, I was going to class. Jackson? He skipped plenty at first, but he’s getting better about it. I like to think I’m helping him keep on task. Caleb and I work on homework together, though I’m the one who always has to remind him to stay on top of it. I don’t know why I care so much.

  Maybe it’s because they’re my friends, and I have no one else to focus on. No family. No girl.

  Well, I feel like now I have a girl.

  No one else is up yet in my house. Caleb is sleeping. Jackson stayed the night and is asleep in Diego’s room. The house is a mess, and once I throw my darks into the dryer, I start picking up. Tossing out beer cans and garbage. Wiping down the kitchen counters. Loading up the dishwasher.

  “Aren’t you a happy homemaker this morning?”

  This is how Caleb greets me. I turn to find him standing by the fridge, and he looks trashed. His eyes are bloodshot and his hair is a mess. He peeks in the fridge, makes a disgusted face as he shuts the door and goes to collapse on one of the kitchen stools behind the counter, watching me as I add detergent to the dishwasher and start it up.

  “Couldn’t sleep,” I answer truthfully.

  “Why not?” He scrubs his face.

  Messed around with a girl. Can’t wait to do it again.

  That should be my answer, but it’s not what I say out loud.

  “Excited after last night�
��s game.” I shrug. Play it off.

  “You did good. You’ll continue to do good. I have faith.” He shakes his head. Rubs his jaw. “I drank too much.”

  “By the looks of you, more like you smoked too much.”

  He smiles, but it’s faint. “I hit the vape a lot. Still feel a little stoned.”

  “No shit.” I grab a mug out of the cabinet. “Want coffee?”

  I brought my expensive coffee maker with me when I moved in here. I’m one of the rare guys I know who’s addicted to coffee.

  “Sure.”

  I pour Caleb a cup and dump in some sugar and creamer before I stir it, then set the steaming mug in front of him. He grabs it and takes a sip, holding the cup in front of his mouth, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Shit’s pretty good.”

  “I know.”

  “Why are you taking care of me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You’re one of my best friends. You look like you need some TLC.” I turn off the coffeemaker and pull the pot out, dumping the rest of it in the sink.

  “Aw, you care.” He sets the mug down, resting his hand against his chest. “Are you gay for me, Sorrento?”

  “Shut the fuck up.” I shake my head as I rinse out the coffee pot and then open the running dishwasher to set it in there before I face him once more.

  “I saw you talking to the blonde last night.” His mouth kicks up on one side. “She’s a hottie.”

  I sort of want to go territorial on his ass, but I restrain myself. “The hottie’s name is Hayden.”

  “Right.” He takes another sip. “Does Hayden-the-hottie have any friends?”

  “I’m sure she does, but you don’t need to mess with any of them.” I can only imagine if I helped hook up one of Hayden’s friends with Caleb. He’d fuck her and dump her, and Hayden would end up pissed.

  No thanks.

  “Why the hell not? I’m offended.” He grins, not looking offended whatsoever. “I’m an upstanding gentleman.”

  “No, you’re really not.” I lean against the counter, watching him. “I don’t think you should chase after Hayden’s friends.”

  Caleb’s sigh is exaggerated. “You’re probably right. I’m guessing they’re all ball busters like her anyway.”