Page 47 of Out of His League

“So, what about you?” I ask, turning the tables on him. “You asked about my love life but haven’t mentioned your own. Is there any special lady?” Teasing Kavanagh is easy.

“It’s new,” he starts, hesitating. “Once I have a better grip on how things are going, we can make arrangements for you to meet her,” Kavanagh tells me, a smile in his voice telling me that he is happy.

We talk a little longer, catching up on everyday life in general. A soft female voice comes down the line, causing Kavanagh to cover the phone. His voice gets muffled, and static is heard.

“Sorry, sis. I gotta go, we have plans with some friends for lunch. If you get stranded again—and you better not—call me, and I will help you out,” he orders, his voice leaving no room to argue.

“Alright,” I say with a sigh. “Tell your lady I said hello and that I am looking forward to meeting her. Love you, bro.”

“Love you too, sis,” he says quickly before ending the call.

Setting my phone down, I flop back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. My errant mind drifts to last night and Brock. The last party I attended at his fraternity had a very different outcome.

Memories of being in Brock’s room flood my mind. His calloused hands running over my body. Brock’s soft, teasing kisses and how he nibbled on my neck.

A shiver runs down my spine, remembering the feel of his large, hard cock between my legs. Despite our clothes being in the way, it was easy to tell he carries a small bat in his pants.

My eyes close as my hands drift over my body, and my hips grin as the pressure in my core builds. A hand snakes under the thin top I am wearing, kneading my breast and tugging on my nipple. My other hand moves down my body, slipping under the waistband of my underwear.

Moving my fingers to my center, I let out a soft gasp at how wet I am. My panties are soaked. Two fingers slide easily into my center, and my hips press down into the mattress, causing my back to bow.

Increasing speed, my fingers continue to move in and out of my channel. Using my thumb to rub small circles on my clit, I tug hard on my nipple.

As my peak approaches, my fingers rub, squeeze, and tug, moving faster and harder. Soft moans of pleasure escape my lips.

“Yes, oh God, yes!”

I call out to the empty room as I find my release. Easing both the speed and pressure of my fingers, I collapse on the bed and work myself through the remaining spasms.

Taking a few minutes to catch my breath and enjoy the euphoria of my self-induced orgasm, my breathing and heart rate return to normal.

Hearing the guys speaking loudly from the other room has my lips tipping up. Deciding to get the day started, my feet fall over the side of the bed as I sit up. Stretching my arms over my head, my back cracks in several places.

Laughing at the rough-housing going on in the living room, I head into the shower just as something breaks.

“You assholes!” Kennedy shouts, causing me to chuckle.

Monday morning comes too quickly.

As the day passes, the campus starts to buzz with excitement about the opening baseball game tonight. We had plans to attend, but with recent events, I think it’s best if we don’t. At least me, if the guys and Kennedy want to go, who am I to stop them.

One positive thing about the game, Brock had to cancel our tutor session, giving me one more day to prepare myself mentally for being around him.

Entering the dining hall for lunch, I keep my focus on where I am walking, ignoring the table full of baseball players, where Brock is the center of attention. Despite my efforts to ignore him, Danica and the Pussy Patrol make it impossible. Danica’s voice carries through the whole room. Straightening my spine and squaring my shoulders, I do my best to act unaffected. Kennedy sits next to me and gives my hand a gentle squeeze in support as the guys grumble expletives about Brock and Danica.

Eating quickly, I escape the dining hall and head to my next class. I am hopeful that the day will move quickly, allowing me to make my escape back to my apartment.

Yesterday, I refused to answer his calls or respond to his texts. Callum said he caught Brock trying to get someone to let him into our building.

Am I being immature and childish?

Probably.

Do I care?

Not really.

I am tired of being treated like shit. Brock treats me well one day and like gum on his shoe the next. I though we were developing a decent relationship. He is the one who asked me to go to that stupid party. What does he do when I walk in the door? He tells me to leave. I mean…whodoesthat?

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