It's Our Secret

by W. Winters

  “James has the beard,” I say to the man with the neatly trimmed facial hair and then add, “Don’t shave it or I might forget who you are.” That gets a laugh from them. He’s classically handsome, but only slightly above average looking.

  I finally take a look at the guys on the fringe. I expect to feel a certain way, but what’s a complete surprise is how my gaze is caught, trapped by a beast of a man. His eyes pierce through me, pinning me in place. It takes a moment for me to even register any other defining feature. I can practically feel his sharp jawline covered in stubble that would be rough to the touch. His hair is nearly black and just long enough to grip at the top, but shorter on the sides.

  His shoulders … broad enough to trap me under him. Thud. One beat is all my heart gives me. Then the poor thing plays dead.

  “I don’t know yours,” I say, feeling my pulse pump a little harder. My body heats with the way he looks at me. Like he’s looking me up and down, trying to undress me with that sharp hazel gaze of his.

  There’s something different about him. The air around him is tense. And I’m grateful for the distraction.

  “Dean,” he tells me and his expression stays hard. I’d almost say it’s cold but that’s so wrong. Plenty of heat is there, a heat of defiance. And something else, something dangerous.

  He’s the type of man who gives you chills even as he heats up everything else.

  The kind of man you know you’re supposed to stay away from because he’ll ruin you without thinking twice … The kind my dreams are made of.

  A small smirk lifts up Dean’s lips as if he can read my mind. As if the dirty thoughts in my head are what his dreams are made of too.

  “We’re just finishing up a workout,” Daniel says and I nod as he adds, “We’re getting ready to party.” His voice is deep, but Dean’s is deeper.

  “Damn, I was really looking forward to your practice,” I answer him with a pout, finally ripping my eyes away from Dean. Back to the entire point of being here.

  “You want to come?” Daniel asks, inviting me to whatever party they’re having, and I shake my head before peeking at Dean. He’s still watching me with that hunger in his eyes. “Come on, I know you do,” he teases and the playfulness in his voice makes me smile. He’s cute in a charming way.

  “Not today,” I say, my voice coming out a little smaller than I’d like.

  “Suit yourself,” Daniel says and stands up, walking to where he’s laid his bag on the ground. “If you change your mind, come on down to Broom Street.” He smiles with a warmth that’s inviting. “It’s going to be fun,” he adds.

  A few guys let out a rough laugh, deep and low. “You’ll know which house is us,” one of them says.

  I keep finding my gaze drifting toward Dean’s and each time I do, his intense stare is on me. I didn’t come here for him. A little flirtation here and there is all I was aiming for, but the way he looks at me is doing something to me that I can’t deny.

  He’s bad for me. But I can’t help what I want.

  6

  Dean

  I like how she’s acting like she doesn’t recognize me. The way she twirls the pen in her brunette curls, looking up at the professor then slipping the tip of that pen between her teeth.

  Fucking tease.

  Her name’s Allison. I love the way it slips off my tongue.

  I didn’t look at her twice the first day we sat in this room. But I noticed when we crossed paths in the building next door, the one with the cafeteria. And I noticed when she started walking away from campus and toward the houses down Connell Street, only two blocks down from Broom Street.

  The tiny glances and the subtle way she shifts her thighs each time she sees me … that got my attention even more.

  Maybe it’s the curve of her waist or the way her lips are almost always just slightly parted. But something drew me to her and now the idea of her on her knees in front of me as her lips open wider to take the head of my dick is all I can think about.

  And then she can treat me to the same sucking she’s doing to that pen right now.

  Maybe she’s got my attention because Chem 201 is boring as hell.

  Or maybe it’s because Little Miss Allison looks as though she’d be down for a dirty fuck, but she’s avoiding me at all costs.

  Like right now. She’s got to know I want her. Maybe she likes the chase.

  All she’s doing is skimming that pen across her bottom lip, making my dick twitch with need.

  “And you?” the professor asks, his voice directed this way. I’m one row behind and two seats to the left of her.

  “I’m sorry?” she questions Professor Grant, caught off guard. My lips curl up into a smile, although I hide it behind my fist as I brace my elbow against the desk. Yeah, I know I’m getting to this broad. Whether she wants to let on that I am or not.

  “What’s the constitution of the nucleus of an atom?” he repeats his question, and my brow raises slightly. We’re only five days into the semester and this class meets Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Week one is too fucking early for this shit.

  “Electrons and neutrons,” she answers hesitantly.

  “Wrong,” the professor’s voice rings out and Allison purses her lips. The pen in her hand taps on the textbook in front of her as the class know-it-all pipes up, not even waiting to be called on.

  The answer is protons and neutrons, not that I give a shit. My major’s undecided for now but there’s zero chance of me going into chemistry for a career.

  I lean over, feeling the metal bar separating our rows pushing into my ribs.

  “Maybe you should pay attention.” I whisper my first words to Allison, and she finally looks at me.

  She gives me a side-eye paired with an asymmetric grin and I give her a charming smile back before relaxing into my seat.

  After the professor turns his back to us, ranting about something he’s scribbled on the chalkboard, she looks over her shoulder toward me.

  Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she blushes, peeking at me and then once again pretending to pay attention to him and not me.

  That only makes me want her more. I know she’s thinking about me. I want to know exactly what she’s daydreaming about. That way I can make it come true.

  I know she didn’t recognize me yesterday on the field, but I recognized her. She’s fucking gorgeous, assertive. Doesn’t know what’s in an atom, though. I smirk and act like I give a shit about what’s on the board when Professor Grant turns around and looks right at me. I even nod for his benefit.

  The desk groans as I readjust in my seat and get another glance from Allison when the lecture continues and his voice drones on.

  Not a lot of women approach a group of men with confidence. There’s a shyness but also a sense of playfulness in this one that I like. It’s something I want to explore and judging by the way she acted yesterday, compared to how she’s been in class the last two times, quiet and reserved, I’m guessing she’d like to explore some shit too.

  The large clock above the door ticks by so damn slowly as I wait for class to end. Tick, tick, tick. Every time Allison puts that pen into her mouth, my dick gets a little harder. She lets it roll down her bottom lip and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t doing it on purpose.

  By the time two o’clock hits, I’m hard as fucking steel.

  I stay in my seat as everyone around me packs up, my eyes still on my prey.

  As she closes her book, she deliberately avoids my gaze again.

  “I thought you’d be shy,” I say as the person to my right leaves, blocking my view of Allison for only a fraction of a second. She sets the heavy textbook into her backpack and zips it up, all the while looking at me with an expression that tells me she doesn’t know how to answer.

  “When I saw you the last two classes,” I tell her and then close my book, “you seemed shy and not at all like you were yesterday.”

  “Is that right?” she asks, tucking her hair behind her
ear and setting her bag back down on the floor. She turns in her seat to face me and says, “I didn’t know we had a class together. I guess it was just nerves.”

  “You didn’t look too nervous yesterday.”

  “Why do you say that?” she asks me, but there’s a spark of mischievousness in her eyes. It makes my smile widen.

  “It seemed like you wanted something particular.”

  “And what would that be?” she says. I notice how her chest rises and falls with her shallow breathing.

  I lean forward and lower my voice. “Can I tell you something?”

  “What?” Her lips stay parted just slightly and she stares at me with curiosity.

  “I called dibs when you left,” I tell her. It’s not true. After she left, her hips swaying and a small bit of that shyness returning when she saw me watching her fine ass walk away, all that the guys were talking about was how much ass they’re going to get in college.

  Her ass, any ass. It doesn’t matter to them. But this one I’d noticed before. This one is obviously in need. So when she left the field, the vision of her soft lips stayed in my mind.

  “Did you really call dibs?” she asks me and then shakes her head like I’m ridiculous.

  They don’t get this ass. Not until I get my fill first.

  “Yeah,” I tell her and look around the now empty room. “Where’s your next class?”

  “I don’t have anything else after this,” she says.

  “Me neither,” I tell her and she throws her head back, laughing.

  “You’re such a liar,” she says, calling me out with a voice full of humor. Her genuine smile grows and a beautiful shade of pink colors her cheeks. “You want to get into my pants badly enough that you’d miss your next class?”

  My adrenaline spikes. “How’d you know?” I ask her.

  “Your schedule’s right there,” she says and rolls her eyes. She grabs the paper off my desk and verifies that she’s right before tossing it back to me.

  “It’s right next door but you’re going to be late if you wait any longer,” she says confidently and stands up, swinging her backpack over one shoulder.

  “It can wait if you want to get out of here,” I offer her.

  “You’re shameless,” she says and then she grips the strap of her bookbag and asks me softly, “You think I’m that easy?”

  “I think you want it. You might be afraid to get it, though.”

  Her expression slips just slightly, so quickly I almost don’t see it and I second-guess my approach. “I think you know what you want.” I speak clearly and wait for her light green eyes to reach mine. “I fucking love that.”

  “Oh yeah?” she says, her confidence returning and the air between us heating again. The tension between us thickens as I stand up, closing the small space that separates us. She stays still, letting me get close enough to touch her. I don’t, though. I can make her want the chase too.

  “Yeah, and I know what I want too,” I tell her and lean forward, so fucking close, but she turns her shoulder to me, brushing against my chest and arm as she walks away, leaving my heart beating hard.

  “Well right now, I want to go home, Dean,” she says over her shoulder.

  “Love the way you say my name too,” I tell her and she pauses in the doorway. “I can make it sound even better when you scream it.”

  She lets her head fall back with a feminine peal of laughter. “You really are shameless.”

  “We have a game tonight,” I say quickly before she can leave. It grabs her attention and she looks back at me. “On the field. Nothing big, but you should come.”

  “You’re inviting me to your game?” she asks me with a hint of a smile. It makes her happy, I can tell.

  “I am and I’m going to win you over,” I say, picking up my bag and following her out of the room. “I know you want me,” I tell her, cocky as fuck.

  “We’ll see,” she says softly, letting her gaze roam down my chest to my cock, then back up to my eyes. “Not today, though. Get to class,” she commands, and her voice hardens.

  “Bossy,” I tease her as she turns left. I debate following her. But now’s not the time. She’s just the right mix of shy and curious, but also confident and sexy as hell. I watch her disappear before turning right to go to my next class. “All right, Allie Cat, round one goes to you,” I say lowly.

  My dick’s still hard and there’s a trace of a smile left on my lips.

  College just got that much better.

  7

  Allison

  I shouldn’t be thinking about Dean Warren.

  I definitely shouldn’t be going to this game for him.

  And the smile on my lips when he does a double take over his shoulder, as I sit on the uncomfortable metal bleachers, that really shouldn’t be showing.

  He’s a mistake waiting to happen.

  The cockiness and arrogance mixed with the hard edge in his eyes are what tell me that much. As if a simple look wasn’t enough to warn me off.

  He’s the type of guy who will force you against a hard wall, lift your skirt and tear off the thin fabric beneath it with a forceful tug. The type of guy who will hold you there while you scream as he takes you harder and harder.

  He’s the type of guy my mother told me I should stay away from.

  Good thing I stopped listening to my mother years ago.

  He’s a mistake I’ve made before. Not just once or twice, and you’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now. Maybe I can blame it on insta-lust.

  My heart slams against my rib cage, hating that I’m in such denial.

  He’s a distraction. Dean is a distraction who could ruin everything. And maybe that’s why I can’t resist him. Do I really want to do this? I clear my throat and square my shoulders as my shoes sink into the grass. The urge to turn around without looking back is strong.

  I was headed this way anyway.

  The thought makes me smile. It almost makes me think that it’s even okay. That everything was meant to work out like this.

  It’s a little late for me to be starting college but hey, being thrown to the wolves when you’re legally allowed to drink isn’t the worst thing in the world. I’m only a year behind and I have plenty of catching up to do. I’m shocked at how easy it is to get back into the student life. I graduated high school, went to community college for a year, then dropped out when Grandmom got sick only. One year later and I’m picking up the pieces, but blending in has been easier than I thought it would be.

  “Go State!” I yell out and clap after setting my bag down on the ground.

  There are maybe a dozen people scattered throughout the stands.

  The field is small, as is the university. No one comes here because of their athletics program, that’s for damn sure.

  It’s just an intramural team and there’s not even a real game today. It’s basically some guys fucking around. Shirts versus skin and lucky for me, Dean happens to be one of the shirtless players.

  Just as I let my eyes admire his body, he jolts forward and tackles the shit out of another guy—Daniel, I think. It’s only when the guy stands up that I confirm it’s Daniel. Oh my. I’m not going to lie; this isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

  Rugby’s a violent sport.

  The violence is what attracts me. It’s like playing with fire … and that’s what I came to do.

  The men crash together, and I keep staring at one in particular. They slam into each other, brutalizing one another, all in the name of a good game.

  It’s not a game to me. There’s too much at stake to call it that.

  I can’t watch, but I also can’t rip my eyes away.

  Thud. Thud. My heart pounds harder and harder as the memories slowly come back to me, and I need to shove them away. Hide them, bury them deep down inside.

  Deep breaths. Calming breaths.

  It only takes a glance in the wrong direction at the wrong time and it all comes flooding back.

  I force
a small smile to my lips, unclenching my fists and only just now realizing how my nails dug into my skin. As I reach for the water bottle in my bag, I lift my gaze back to the field, only to find Dean staring at me. The grim look proves he was watching me and knowing that, I can’t breathe.

  It’s like he can see right through me. I’m saved by the loud clap of someone else sitting in the bleachers behind me. Our connection is broken and only then is my body willing to play it off. To relax and pretend like it’s all right.

  Dean is like a drug to a recovering addict.

  He makes me question everything. All the things I have planned.

  He makes me want to run but at the same time, he paralyzes me.

  Five more minutes and I’ll leave, I promise myself.

  I’m waiting for them to break up their huddle and keep playing, but that’s not what happens.

  The bottle nearly slips from my grasp as Dean strides over to me and the other guys line up on the field without him.

  Dean takes a seat next to me and I’m instantly hit with his warmth and masculine scent. His sweat smells sweet and addictive.

  “What are you doing?” he asks me.

  “I was watching this hot guy who has a crush on me play this dumb sport,” I say and fail to hide my smile as I add, “He gave up, though.”

  He chuckles and that gorgeous smile flickers onto his face. “I wasn’t sure you were going to stay, and I wanted to make sure I let you know before you left that we’re having a party tomorrow night at James’s place,” he tells me.

  “First a game and now a party?” I ask him, taking another swig from the bottle and fiddling with the plastic cap in my left hand. “You like asking me on dates, don’t you?”

  He shrugs and glances at the guys on the field, but I keep my eyes on him. “I think you’ll like the party better. I’ll be able to give you a little more attention.”

  I roll my eyes and almost turn back to the field, but I stop myself. I don’t want to look that way right now.

  “You think if you get a little alcohol in me, you’ll have a better chance?” I ask him, although I keep glancing behind him to the right side of the field to see if any of the guys are watching us.