Page 35 of Bad Man on Campus

“I’ll make it worthwhile.” He doesn’t wait for a response and lowers his lips to mine, brushing them softly before licking the seam as I open to him. He nibbles my bottom lip and his tongue strokes and finds mine, and I taste coffee and cinnamon and raw maleness, that extra something that defines him. Pleasure pings through me and when I want to lean closer, to feel his hardness against me, he lets go and his lips are gone from mine.

“I’ll see you later at the party.” He pats the heads of Beau and Belle who stare up at him like he’s a god and I don’t blame them, watching him as he walks away.

* * *

“Phoebe is going to be queen of the party of course,” Dooley says like he’s testing me. I told him about my encounter at the game and he says she’s bluffing, the campus TV news producer would never allow her to air that kind of thing. He says she was trying to intimidate me. I shrug.

Phoebe is like one more hill I need to conquer. And one more place on the path where my courage might need a booster. I heft my bag and reach into the cache to pull out two nips. I’m proud that I made it through the game without the training wheels today, but tonight is another matter.

It's one thing to have a stadium filled with mostly strangers watching you, but somehow more daunting when it’s a room filled with friends and classmates, when they’re not judging you for your dance moves, but for you, for who you are. I shudder.

“How about a pre-party pop, Dools?”

His eyes squinch up at the nickname I’ve given him, but he knows it’s a lost battle to insist I stop using it.

“Only you are allowed to get away with a meta nickname,” he says, reaching out to accept the small bottle. “What do we have this time? You keep me amused with the variety of pops. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were addicted.” He grins and I’m not sure if he’s kidding me or testing me. I grin back and he inspects the mini bottle.

“Fireball. I approve.” We both unscrew the caps.

“Bottoms up,” I say and down the hot liquid, barely tasting it. No way am I confessing that the taste almost doesn’t matter anymore. It’s the courage that’s most important. Picking up my life is hard, carrying on as if nothing’s ever happened takes more balance than I have sometimes. The shot settles over me and warms me, but I’ll feel better, more at ease, having a couple handier to supplement the beer at the party. Training wheels. There if I need to lean on them.

Chapter 8

Kace

Phoebe’s sorority house is neater and prettier than BMOC house, but once we get past the front door the noise and the crowd give it the same air as every off-campus party I’ve been to in the last three years.

“Is that live music?” Glory says into my ear, teasing the wisps of hair at my temple and stirring my cock. I move my arm from the small of her back to wrap it around her waist. She looks hot in her pink tank top and short skirt that makes her legs look like she should be a contender for the Rockettes.

“No. A DJ with a superior system. They don’t spare the bucks on parties at this house.” I see Brick ahead in the kitchen hanging at the bar with a few teammates. It’s an actual bar with a bartender. Brick must be talking football, reliving the game, because he’s animated as hell, not his usual cool self.

“Let’s get a drink,” I say and head for the bar.

“Do you see Phoebe?” Glory stands on her toes and talks into my ear.

I shake my head. Much more of her sexy whispering and we’ll be leaving this party earlier than I planned—which was early. I love that Glory doesn’t care about being seen and scoring social points. She loves a good party and she’ll dance her heart out, but if I give her a certain look, she responds so fucking thoroughly it makes my balls tighten thinking of it. I slide my hand up under the hem of her skirt and she jumps, laughing as we reach the bar.

Glory offers to arm wrestle Romeo and they laugh. Her latest favorite song comes on and she starts dancing, giving us all an eyeful of sexy moves, but I can’t complain, because she’s fucking good at dancing.

“No wonder she made the dance team,” Fitz says, coming in the back door. A few other ladies join Glory in dancing, creating an impromptu dance floor in the spacious kitchen, stripped of all its furniture for the occasion. After a few songs, I join her for a slow dance and she lays her head on my chest the way she used to, making my heart swell, making all the outside troubles disappear. I cup my hand against her soft curls and lose myself with the sway of her body against mine, the way we fit together, and the music shutting everything else out.

Eventually the song ends and she retrieves her almost full beer. We’ve agreed she can have one beer so she won’t feel awkward and she’s promised that’s her limit, but I’ll watch her.

“I’m going to look for Dools, okay?” she says to me as if she needs permission. I lower my head and press her hips into mine for good measure, so she can feel what she does to me. As soon as my hard cock makes contact, I want to groan. She grins. Kissing her ripe lips, I say, “Don’t get lost.”

“Maybe I won’t go,” she says, between nibbles of my lips. One of the guys throws a balled-up napkin, hitting me in the side of the face, and I get the picture, separating from Glory. The chorus of laughter from the football guys at the bar doesn’t bother me.

“Jealous much?” I say. Glory gives my ass a pinch and leaves the kitchen with a wave to her fans.

“Your hard-on is showing,” Brick says, deadpan, causing an uproar of snickering as I rejoin the group. I show him my middle finger with a grin.

Later, when I catch up with Glory on the back deck, I notice Glory seems more buzzed than her half a glass of beer should be making her. My chest tightens, but I decide we should have a talk. She’s happy to go along with me into the study off the main corridor and I close the door behind us, locking it.

“Locked door? I guess you’re in a mood.” She melts against me and I maneuver us to the couch and sit her down next to me.

“You’re pretty buzzed, aren’t you?”

“You used to say I was pretty,” she says. “Period.”