Prologue
AJ
The bass hits so hard it rattles the windows as coeds dance in the living room of the frat house. My buddies and I rehash the different plays of the night, going over exactly what we did right to beat our bitter rivals. Everything had gone exactly as the plays were written on Coach’s board. The game couldn’t have gone any better. It was a very good day. Being that it’s my junior year at the university, scouts had littered the stands, and I’m the reason we scored four touchdowns, saying it was a very good day might be an understatement.
This party is in full swing, a celebration of our victory, but I don’t feel much like drinking. I’ve never been much into partying. Football is my life. Going to practice hungover or dehydrated isn’t going to get me signed to the NFL team of my dreams. There is no room for distractions in my life.
Except there is one distraction. One I can’t seem to get out of my head. As if my thoughts had somehow conjured her out of the ether, Claire Alverez walks into the house with a friend. My entire body tenses up and any previous thoughts about the game or scouts, flee my mind.
I never would have expected to see her at one of these parties. They often get out of hand toward the end of the night, and it’s not an unusual occurrence for the cops to arrive to break up the party or break up a fight. Claire is pre-med, the smartest and most serious girl I’ve ever met on campus. I’ve obsessed over her since I first saw her freshman year, when I was helping a friend move into the dorms. It had been the end of summer and still sweltering hot. Claire wore shorts, showing off her long and toned tan legs, and a tee shirt that fell off one shoulder. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but damn, when she smiled … I felt it all over. She was the sexiest girl I’d ever seen, and she wasn’t even trying. I haven’t been able to think about another girl since.
“A toast,” one of my teammates says, snapping me out of my reverie. Reluctantly, I turn away from the sight of Claire. My friends have their red plastic cups raised, beer sloshing over the sides. “To the man of the night, our captain, who leads us to victory again and again. You, my friend, could have any chick in this room.”
They laugh and agree, lifting their cups higher into the air and roaring with laughter. And they’re right. Everywhere I turn, chicks are trying to catch my eye. As soon as I walk up to the bar, a dozen girls are making their way across the room, suddenly realizing their cups are empty. But it doesn’t matter; I’m not interested. I only have eyes for Claire, but she’s the only one who isn’t looking at me like a prize whose head she wants mounted on the wall above her headboard. She’s not interested in showing off to her Instagram followers. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she weren’t even on Instagram.
Claire is wearing a tight black dress, shorter than anything I’ve ever seen her wear before. Her wavy dark hair is falling down around her shoulders, so long it almost touches her waist. She’s wearing just a touch of makeup, only mascara and lipstick. Not anything like the other girls at this party with smoky eyes and layers of foundation. With so little effort she is the sexy chick in the frat house. I want to grab her like some kind of caveman and drag her away from her friend, throw her over my shoulder and climb the stairs up to my room. But she doesn’t seem like the type to be impressed by trophies and college football victories. She’s the kind of girl who sees the bigger picture. If I’m going to impress her, it’s going to be with wit and charm and brains.
My eyes jump from group to group around the crowded party, searching for her. When I finally find her, standing by the stairs, she’s looking right at me. My heart stops with a clunk when she doesn’t break eye contact like I expect her to, and when she smiles at me, my heart starts back up with the speed of a bullet train.
She’s standing alone. I spy her friend, who’s ditched her, stalking another player by the bar. Without even thinking, I’m on my feet and walking toward her. As if my body were a tightly wound spring, just waiting for this opportunity to unleash itself. There’s no thought, just instinct. It’s like she has some sort of tractor beam, pulling me toward her with her gaze.
I have no idea what to say or do, but I’m not really thinking with that particular head at the moment. Right now, I’m driven by pure lust. If she wants me even a fraction of how much I want her right now, this whole house might burn down from the heat we’ll produce.
I stop in front of her, a tower of flesh and muscle against her willowy frame. She’s petite in a way I hadn’t realized before. Her long legs give her height, but her bones are delicate, her features small and fine. A guy like me could break her with one hand. If I ever have her, I’ll need to be gentle, even though every part of me wants to devour her in the bed like some kind of beast. The mischief in her smile makes me think she wants that too.
I’m feeling brazen right now. My erection strains painfully at my jeans begging for release. Over the pounding music, I lean into her ear and say, “Want to go to my room?”
Her golden eyes stare into mine, her pupils dilate. She takes me by the hand, her skin silky and warm, and leads me toward the stairs.
My heart hammers in tune with the vibration of the base. It beats so fast I feel like I could pass out. I’ve never been nervous around girls but this one does something to me. Sometimes I wonder if she’s some kind of witch who has cast a spell over me. It’s the only way I can explain why this small, delicate creature has such a fierce hold on me.
I barely breath as we walk up the stairs. It’s like time is frozen, and I’m floating. The air is thick with anticipation and desire and total fucking disbelief. This is happening.
I take her down the hall to my room. I open the door, and look up at her face. The hint of a smirk dances on her lips. She steps beyond the threshold, and I barely have time to close the door behind us before she’s tearing at the button and zipper of my jeans, wrestling my eager cock out of its restraints.
She backs off a little, looking surprised and maybe even a little embarrassed. In a split second, panic washes over me. Did she think I was someone else? Did she have a momentary lapse of judgement, following me up here? But just as I start to entertain my wildest fears, my wildest dream materializes in front of me. The corner of Claire’s mouth rises almost imperceptibly before she drops to her knees. She drags down my jean and boxers, scrapping her fingernails over my ass, and wraps her mouth around my dick, shoving it down her throat until she nearly gags.
“Oh, fuck,” I say.
My head snaps back and I’m lost in the exquisite feeling of her hot mouth, but I want to watch this goddess work her magic, so I force myself to look down at her. My hands tangle in the waterfall of her dark wavy hair. Her deep green eyes glance up at me as my cock slips over her tongue again and again. God, she’s beautiful. And the girl knows how to suck a dick. I feel a bitter spike of jealousy when that thought goes through my mind, knowing she’s had to have practice on other guys to get this good. I shake the thought from my head and try to focus only on her velvet mouth.
She cups my balls roughly, and then pulls hard. She brings her lips to the tip of my dick and swirls her tongue around it. Then she pops it in and out in a fast rhythm. I find my hips moving faster, trying to slip back deep in her mouth. Just when I’m getting completely swept away in the sensation, some part deep inside me roars, “More!” I want more than this. I want all of her.