Violet
I’ve been on campus for less than an hour, and I already hate college. Sweat drips down my back, soaking my white tank top. The entire freshman class now knows I’m wearing a pink bra. Not that I give a shit. I shake my tits at a kid walking past, his eyes glued to my chest, causing him to drop his Tupperware containers.
It’s move-in day, and go figure, I’m on my own. Mommy Dearest overbooked herself, which left me to hitch a ride all the way up to campus and unpack everything myself. A whole whopping four boxes. Standing in the center of the tiny dorm room, I lift my shirt, using it as a towel to wipe at the beaded sweat above my brow.
“Oh…um, excuse me.” A deep, alluring voice has me lowering my tank just enough for my eyes to lock on the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Dark, thick hair, the bluest of eyes, chiseled cheeks, muscled chest, arms…Jesus, I think I may have soaked my panties.
“Sorry. Is this room four twenty-two?”
Even if it wasn’t, my answer would be yes. God yes. “It is. Are you lost or something?” I realize I’ve yet to bring my tank top down, leaving my pink-covered breasts on full display. He’s dressed in a pair of fitted jeans and a casual t-shirt, accentuating the enormous amount of time he must spend at the gym.
He studies me with unwavering attention. The I see something I shouldn’t like and can’t seem to look away kind of attention. And I love every second of it. My heart skips, and a tremor of temptation travels up and down my spine. Sadly, he catches his mistake and forces his eyes up to mine. Clearing his throat, he says, “Oh…uh, no. Actually, right where I need to be.”
Well…isn’t today my lucky day.
There’s no denying the instant attraction between us. His eyes burn with a fire of undeniable lust, igniting something between us. I bite the inside of my cheek, taking a step closer. I bet he smells divine. Like spice and all man. “Hmmm…I think I can help you with—”
“Oh, good! You found it!” Our unspoken allure gets interrupted by a petite blonde entering my room and I lower my shirt. “Hey, you must be Violet. I’m Hazel, your roommate. I see you’ve already met my dad.”
My eyes shift from the peppy blonde to the man standing next to her. Dad. An indescribable blast of excitement flows through me at the indecent way he drank me in before getting caught by his daughter. I lick my lower lip, taking in my new roommate’s daddy. “Yes, we sure have.” My words hold a lot more meaning than she picks up on. His eyes shift, breaking from mine, and I stretch my hand out to him. “Hi. I’m Violet. Nice to meet you.”
He snaps out of his haze, reaching out. “Mr. Winters. Heath. Nice to meet you.” Our hands connect, and a spark zaps through my veins.
“Awesome! I’m super excited. It’s gonna be great. Are your parents here too?” Mr. Winters instantly retreats. Buzzkill, Hazel.
“No. Actually, it’s just my mom, and she got stuck at work.” Translation: she had any and everything better to do than help her daughter with her first important journey to school.
“Oh, okay. My dad and I can help you if you need stuff brought up. He’s the best. Just ask, and he’ll help you with anything.”
Oh, I bet he will. His cheeks flame with guilt, which tells me his sweet daughter would most definitely frown upon the fact that he just eye-fucked her new roommate. I probably shouldn’t encourage it, but the butterflies have yet to settle in my belly. Acting like this only confirms the horrible things my mother has accused me of. My mother always hated me for the way I looked. Blamed me for supposedly being a temptress to the revolving door of men she had in and out of our home. Did I ever encourage it? To piss her off, yes. Did all the drunk men she brought home ever attempt something with me? All the time. Did I ever pursue an older man? Never.
Until now.
What the heck has gotten into you, Violet? Great question. This is super inappropriate. He’s probably twice my age. “Thanks,” is all that comes out of my mouth. My heart hammers, and I suddenly become insecure. I adjust my tank top, wishing it wasn’t soaked through, and try to busy myself with my stuff while they finish bringing up the rest of her things.
“Whoever made this stupid drawer needs to go back to design school,” I grumble, losing my battle with the fifteen random pieces that came with an Ikea nightstand. My nose picks up a hint of spice, and I look up to find Mr. Winters kneeling next to me.
“Want some help?” he asks, his voice as enticing as the rest of him. My hand jitters, and I accidentally drop the tiny tool in my hand.
“Here, let me.” He reaches over, his fingers grazing mine as he picks up the miniature Allen wrench. “These can be tricky,” he says, grabbing the directions, acting as if nothing occurred between us just hours ago. I wonder if I made it up.
“Not sure how this company stays in business with all the extra pieces they jam in,” he goes on, fumbling with the tools. I can’t help but admire his biceps as they tighten with each twist of the wrench. When he leans forward, I steal a peek down his shirt, choking on my own breath at the two rock-hard pecs.
“You okay?”
If shamefully turned on means okay, then yep. “Yeah, just…it’s dry in these rooms. I’m going to get some water.” I get up, ignoring his penetrating stare. My mind won’t stop picturing his eyes and the way they’ve marked me. It’s wrong. It’s confusing. A pool of wetness forms between my thighs. I hide my laughter as I dip my head to the fountain, the water barely quenching my thirst. I stand, wiping the moisture from my lips. My fingers graze along my bottom lip, imagining his pressed against mine. Wondering how it would feel if he pushed me up against this wall, his strong hands roaming freely over my skin.
This is crazy. I’ve lost my damn mind fantasizing about my new roommate’s dad. My roommate’s hot dad. Smoking hot, built, mysterious, totally-crossing-boundaries, luring-me-in dad. Just because someone gives you fuck me eyes doesn’t mean they wanna fuck you. Probably true. I sigh, shaking off the silly illusion, and return to my room. Hazel stands in the doorway, hugging her dad and saying goodbye. I twist on my heel, feeling like I’m intruding on their moment when Hazel catches my presence.
“Hey. Dad’s done. He’s gonna take off. Want to check out the quad and get some dinner?”
A flicker of disappointment twinges in my chest at hearing he’s leaving. I slap on an awkward smile, hoping to hide it. “Cool. Sounds great. Nice meeting you, Mr. Winters.”
He steps forward, sticking his hand out to shake mine. His smile is innocent, confirming I made this whole scenario up in my head. “Please, call me Heath,” he says as I take his hand. It’s large and warm, the inside calloused. I wonder what it would feel like between my thighs. As if he can read my thoughts, his grip tightens. I make the mistake of holding eye contact. His penetrating gaze causes my core to tighten, and my lips part. I pull away, masking my building desire, and offer Hazel a too-big smile.
“Yep. Sounds good. Great. Nice meeting you. I’ll just be down the hall.” With that, I rush away before I throw myself at my roommate’s too-hot-for-his-own-good, soon-to-be-the-leading-star-of-my-sex-dreams dad.