Go Deep: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (3 page)

I
took
my seat in the last row of the lecture hall for my Entrepreneurship class. Cassidy sat down front. She always sat down front. She did it to discourage me from sitting near her. She knew I wasn’t about to sit up there with the obvious keeners. From my seat, though, I still had a clear shot of her. She was a tiny little thing, probably around five and a half feet, and had an obviously athletic body and those long, shapely legs. She had curves in all the right places. I wanted to get lost in those curves. I would have gladly put money on how toned that body was. Dammit I was ready to feel her long, chestnut-brown waves tumble down over my face while she moved over top of me.

Bottom line is I had a bad case of lust for the girl. I even envied the other cheerleaders who got to put their hands on her tiny waist and toss her around at practice or on our Saturday games. These hands of mine wanted to grab those hips and turn her each and every way but never turn her loose until she screamed my name. It was time for that chapter, and come hell or swamp water, I was determined to get her before the year was out. Fucking Cassidy Greyson was my self-assigned senior project. No matter what else I accomplished this year, my college career would be incomplete if I didn’t bag that sweet piece of ass.

She wasn’t the little kid running around with my kid brother anymore. She was a sexy woman now. Those blue eyes had deepened over the last few years, the childhood innocence in them giving way to a kind of maturity that promised dirty things to be had in the dark of night. Her hair was more of a chestnut brown now, but still very natural. Her voice was as toned as her thighs and those tits that hid out under too many layers for my liking.

Christ, all this thinking about Cassidy got me in a very bad place for start of class—distracted, hard, and horny as fuck. I smiled and shook my head, thinking it would have been a shame to have to grab one of the eager girls checking me out after class to work off the edge. It was a good thing Dr. Taylor, our Entrepreneurship professor, showed up just then.

“Good morning, class,” Dr. Taylor announced. The man looked like a science professor more than a business professor. He had messy salt-and-pepper hair, wore glasses, and always sported a white lab coat over his gray suit. He always had whatever he needed in the coat though, whether it was a dry erase marker or his cell phone.

A few students let out a halfhearted “Good morning” in response.

He stopped and looked around at all of us, then he stopped and focused on me. Good job, Mr. Clark. Nice way to kick off the season.”

“Thanks,” I chuckled, putting on my
“I’m so humble”
act as this was a formal, public forum.

Setting his armload of books and notes down on the table beside his podium, he grabbed a couple sheets of paper from the top. He walked over to the corkboard at the side of the lecture hall near the door and posted the sheets with push pins.

“Class, I don’t see many new faces around the room, which is a good thing, because you all know each other by now. This is why I won’t waste any time getting to the good part. Let’s go over your term project.”

The room groaned.

“No, no. Don’t start that yet. Trust me. You’ll enjoy this one. This project will count for thirty-five percent of your course grade, so you have to do well if you expect to ace this course. That being said, I think it’s also worth reminding you that everyone in here needs this course for a degree, and hopefully a career right out of the gate.”

He pushed his glasses up and looked around the room. No one found him even remotely encouraging. This was the first day of class, for fuck’s sake. Half of the students were still buzzed from Saturday night.

“You will each be working with a partner to launch a mock business. Now, you may or may not actually launch a business out of this project. However, you will write up a complete business plan. You will pitch the business to a real business owner or angel investor. At the end of it all, you will also hand in a write-up of your experience doing the project. Most importantly, you will treat this as a real business and not just a project. I’ve lined up a few owners and investors, who have agreed to help you emulate the real world experience by reviewing your project as if you were really pitching a business idea to them. That’s why I say, if they really like your idea, it could take off. No, I’m not kidding. Take this seriously. I shouldn’t have to say that, but every year, someone goofs off and wonders why they flunk this class.”

I knew immediately who I wanted to partner with, and my brain started working to figure out how to get her to want to work with me. This project was my opportunity to get her alone so I could finally hit that.

“Now, for that thirty-five percent of your grade. Your grade will come from each of the three main components of this project. I will be grading your business plan and your write-up of the experience at the end. I will also be assigning a grade on your presentation, based on the observations of your pitch to a business owner or investor. You have the option of pitching to my selected colleagues, or you can find your own contacts, who will all have to be approved by yours truly. Any questions?”

No hands went up.

It was too damn early in the day and in the semester to kiss academic ass.

“All right. Moving along, I decided I don’t want you working with friends. I want you focusing on the project, and in the real world, you won’t be able to work with people you know well or like. So, I’ve gone ahead and paired you all off myself. Do
not
come to me trying to change your partner. Every year, someone does,” he said with a shake of his head.

His little warning didn’t discourage me. I decided that if I didn’t get paired with Cassidy, I’d find a way to convince Dr. Taylor to switch out our partners so we could be paired up. I couldn’t miss the chance to get up close and personal with her on this. Heck, it was such a perfect opportunity for me to slide on into her dorm room, it must have been made for me. There was no doubt in my mind that once I got her cornered for any amount of time, she’d finally come to her senses and wiggle out of those tight jeans of hers.

I sat back in my chair and grinned when the prof carried on with his first lecture. We would work together and do the best damn project in the class, and I would get laid at the same time. It was a win-win for both of us. The end of class finally came around, and Dr. Taylor abruptly stopped his lecture and looked around the room.

“We only have a few minutes left in class today, and I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to see the partner assignments. Please, if you will, line up here in front so we can do this in an orderly fashion. After you see who your partner is, you may leave.”

Orderly fashion, my ass! Everyone stormed the front of the classroom, crowding around the board to find out who they’d been set up to work with. Somehow, I ended up in front of Cassidy. I felt her trying to push up to see around me, but I kept myself in front of her. Thankfully, my name was close to the top in alphabetical order. I put a finger on the page and drug it across to my partner: Cassidy Greyson.

“Sweet,” I said, turning around to boast.

Cassidy looked up at me with anxious expectation in her eyes. “Who’s your partner?”

“You are, lucky lady.”

She rolled her eyes at me and groaned. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. You get the honor of having me lift this grade into the stratosphere.”

Among other things.

Like your voice when I make you come.

“Dr. Taylor,” she called out.

“What?” I asked as she pushed through the crowd of our classmates. I followed her. “Look, Cassidy. It’s fate,” I teased. “I didn’t even have to use my charm to get us partnered up. Looks like we’re meant to be together, one way or another.”

“Yeah…uh, no.”

“Is there already a problem with the pairing?” Dr. Taylor asked absently, as if he couldn’t be less concerned with the plight of his students.

“Yes, sir. I can’t work with Slade Clark,” Cassidy protested.

“And why not?” He glanced up at us over the rim of his glasses.

“He’s a pig, for one,” she protested.

I grinned.

“I can’t help that, Ms. Greyson,” Dr. Taylor answered, already packing up his load.

“Working with him would create a hostile environment for me. We’re not suited to work together.”

“Hello. I’m right here,” I reminded her.

Dr. Taylor looked back and forth between us with a concerned look in his eyes, then honed in on Cassidy. “Is that truly the case?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wait a minute. I happen to recall seeing you on the cheerleading squad. Am I mistaken?”

“No, sir,” she admitted. “I am.”

“So you and Mr. Slade here have to see each other throughout the season, or at least in relatively close proximity, right?”

“More or less.”

He nodded. “Tell you what, Ms. Greyson. You need this class to graduate, correct?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Then make it work. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Cassidy said, defeated.

“You got it,” I agreed, victorious.

“Enjoy your day.” Dr. Taylor hurried out of the room with his lab coat flapping behind him like a superhero’s cape.

I waited at the door for Cassidy to get her things. As she left the room, I fell into step beside her. Once in the hallway, though, I put a hand on her arm and led her over into a corner by the stairwell.

“What the hell was that in there?” I had to ask.

“I don’t want to work with you,” she told me. “I don’t like you, Slade. You’re a cocky, self-centered pig.” She said it plainly, like she expected me just to accept her opinion of me without fighting back. I agreed with her, but she needed some resistance.

“No way,” I told her. “You’re not getting out of this. You and I are going to work together.”

“You can’t force me to work with you,” she said defiantly.

“I can’t, but Dr. Taylor just did.”

Cassidy huffed out a sigh, crossing her arms under the swell of her breasts. It wasn’t fair for her to try to distract me with her tits. It was even less fair that it was working, but nothing I tried worked on her so far.

I grinned. “Just give me a shot,” I told her. “You could benefit from working with me.”

“Oh really? How is that?”

“Come on. You can’t deny my intelligence,” I teased. “I’m probably the only student in that class who can keep up with you.”

“What’s your GPA?”

I shook my head. I was not about to tell her my GPA. Only a select few people knew it was close to a 4.0 average. I didn’t want it getting around that I was a closet perfectionist. “What difference does that make? Read my lips. You. Can’t. Switch. Partners.”

Finally getting the message, she looked over at me. “Christ! Okay, I’ll give you a chance, but the slightest slip from you, and it’s over. I’ll go to Dr. Taylor or the Dean and have us split up. If I have to, I’ll drop the course and find a way to do it over the summer.”

She was bluffing, because this course was only offered in the Fall semester.

My smirk grew to a full-on smile. “Don’t worry. It won’t come to that.”

“How do you know?”

I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “By the end of this semester, you’ll ace this course because of me, and then I’m going to own you, Cassidy Greyson.” I stood straight up again and relished the shocked look on her face. “Just you wait and see.”

“I ought to go to him right now, you creep!” she shrieked, storming off in a huff.

“But you won’t,” I called after her as she walked past Dr. Taylor’s hall. “I hate to see you go, but I love watching you walk away,” I said to myself as I watched her perfect, tight, round ass in those jeans.

S
till reeling
over the business project partner nightmare from this morning, I showed up at practice and dropped off my backpack on the bleachers to join the other cheerleaders on the sideline at the practice field. Miranda was already there, doing her stretches in her all-black leotards and her bright pink hair up in a cute ponytail. As usual, some of the others gave her that familiar sideways glance that said they were confused with her fashion choices. They were used to short shorts, micro mini-skirts, and any top revealing enough to get the star players’ informal nod of approval.

I shook my head and walked over to her. Like me, cheerleading was in our comfort zone, a remnant leftover from her high school days. I’m not sure why she didn’t stop, but the other girls on the team just didn’t see her the same way after her interest in the occult and mythology darkened her wardrobe.

“How were your classes?” I asked, starting my stretches.

“The usual. How about yours?”

I breathed out a frustrated sigh, which came out sounding like a grunt. “If I start talking about it now I think I’ll end up decking Slade.” As I looked up, I noticed Sarah, a second year cheerleader, practically giving Miranda the evil eye. This was going overboard now. I stopped what I was doing and walked over to confront her. I admit that perhaps it was a distraction so I wouldn’t have to think about working all semester long with Slade.

“What’s that look for, Sarah?” I asked when I got to her side.

“Your friend,” she answered, barely holding back her laughter.

“What about her?”

“She sticks out like a sore thumb down here.” The girl had a high-pitched whiny voice that carried. Dammit, Miranda heard and stepped up to the girl.

“Hey, this is the only time I get to feel like a normal human being. You and everyone else on this team should all be pleased with that and stop giving me shit.”

Sarah seemed like she would say something, but thought against it. Miranda had a way with words, and if this had turned into an argument, she’d probably have Sarah crying in all of three minutes. My only worry was about how long the team’s coach would allow Miranda to keep her hair dyed pink. She already had to take out her eyebrow ring when we were at games.

I noticed everyone seemed to get distracted all of a sudden as the football team came out onto the field for practice. I rolled my eyes and groaned. Slade was strutting in with his squad, probably feeling like a boss for screwing with my chances of enjoying what was left of my time as a student.

“What’s wrong now?” Miranda asked, taking her eyes off the boys on the field for a moment.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

I wasn’t a good liar. I knew this, but I still tried from time to time, whenever I didn’t want to share with the entire team.

“What’s up?” she insisted.

“Slade.”

“Mmmm, I’d like to get
him
up.”

“Gross, Miranda.”

“What? He’s hot. Look at that body,” she said. “Have you seen the way he moves on the field? I can only imagine how he moves in bed.”

I rolled my eyes in disgust. “Oh my God, Miranda. They all have great bodies. They’re football players.” Not wanting to stand there with my jaw dropped open like the other cheerleaders, I went over to the sit on the bleachers while everyone stood and stared. You’d think these ladies would be used to this deal by now. Both the team captain and athletic coach were late or MIA for some reason, so I made myself useful by flipping through my social media pages while we waited for practice to start.

“So, what’s your problem with Slade?” Miranda asked me. She sat down next to me, her grey eyes still glued to the boys from our spot in the bleachers.

“You know, Miranda. He’s a dick who won’t accept no for an answer.”

“So? You’re a cheerleader, Cassidy. That’s pretty much every guy on that field, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I guess, but I’ve known Slade all my life. He should know better.”

“That doesn’t sound like the real problem, hun. Tell me. What’s bothering you? Something had to have happened after you two left the Café this morning. Spill.”

“Professor Taylor happened, that’s what.”

“Uh…how does a prof have anything to do with you and Slade?”

“Slade’s in my Entrepreneurship class this semester. And Professor Taylor had this brainchild that he’d randomly stick students into pairs for this project that’s worth thirty-five percent of the grade.”

“Okay. So what?”

“Guess who I’m stuck with?”

“No…you and…” she pointed back and forth between me and the field, indicating Slade.

“Yep.”

“Holy hell that’s great!”

“What the hell are you talking about, Miranda? Did you miss the part where I said this project’s worth a third of the final grade?”

A dreamy glaze coming over her eyes. “I think it’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, no. That’s not exactly how I’d put it. And Dr. Taylor refused to let anyone switch. Trust me, I begged. And then Slade was all gloating after the prof said no. It’s like he’s been waiting for this chance to drive me nuts.”

She stared off into the field, seeming to study Slade as he ran through drills with the rest of the team. “I don’t know, Cassidy. He’s not so bad.” She spoke as if in a trance.

“He’s a pig,” I reiterated. “Another cocky jock strutting around here thinking he’s God’s gift to women.”

“Hey, go easy now. Maybe working with someone like Slade will loosen you up a bit. You know? Teach you to have a little fun every once in a while.” She paused and stood up, turning to me with her hand on her groin area. “Wait, wait! Maybe he can teach you how to appreciate what he’s packing.”

“You’re disgusting,” I teased, but really, I couldn’t blame her. If the physical was all I had been looking for in a man, someone like Slade would have been perfect. His body was chiseled like a masterpiece made of stone, and he had the kind of charm and confidence many women just melted over. I’d watched him on the field.

“I’m thinking I’ll just do the project myself and put his name on it,” I added. “That way he gets the credit he needs for the assignment, and I don’t have to work with him. It’s a win-win. He of all people should see that.”

“What the hell, Cassidy? Why are you so insistent on avoiding that guy? What are you not telling me?” Miranda asked.

“Nothing. Really. He’s an ass and I don’t need the headache. Simple as pie.”

“You despise him so much you’ll do all that work yourself?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know if ‘
despise
’ is exactly the right word…but it’s pretty damn close. Think of it this way. If I do it myself, then the project won’t take away from his practice schedule. Everyone knows those guys are only here to play ball. He’s even getting some dummy degree in sports management so that he can stay close to the game even if he can’t play personally.”

“He’s going pro when he leaves here, though. Isn’t he? I mean, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Oh I’m sure he is. He’s probably got all the top agents fighting over him already. They’d be stupid not to. Even Shawn can’t stop bragging about his big brother being one of the best out there.” I paused, watching the boys on the team do a few warmup exercises. “I think that’s what I’ll do. I’ll tell him the good news so he’s off the hook from the work, put his name on the finished product, and maybe coach him on what to say during any presentations we have to deliver. That way, he doesn’t have to think about the work, and I don’t have to be bothered with him.”

“I don’t know,” Miranda cautioned. “I get the feeling Slade’s not going to go for that, Cassidy.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see.” I thought it sounded like a great deal for him, but I couldn’t help but acknowledge that there was the outside chance she was right.

The cheerleading coach and team captain walked on the side field just then.

“Sorry we’re late, girls, but why the heck are you not running through the routines?” Coach Green hollered. “All right, let's start with the double pike basket toss. And one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three…”

I tried not to let my concerns over working with Slade get in the way of practice as I was tossed around by several of the male cheerleaders. Some days it felt like all we did was get thrown around instead of working on any individual routines. One of the things I liked about cheerleading was that it took a lot of concentration to make everything work, but the end result was supposed to look graceful and effortless.

Gail, the team captain took over from there as the coach left again. “Who said you could stop? Keep going, girls! Ok. Do it again, from the top. And one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four…”

Although I was in my final year, I was officially still in third year. That was why I hadn’t quite made it to the Purple Squad, our elite team open only to senior cheerleaders. These ladies were the ones who would probably show up on NFL sidelines one day, or hanging off the arms of the pro football players. I wanted none of that, so I settled for the middle team called the Red Squad, even if I was as good as any of the other girls and probably could have used my senior status to get me in Purple Squad.

It was enough that I was a cheerleader at a university known for its football program, in a city that worshipped the game. It could do two things for me when I graduated college. First, it would look good on a resume that I had devoted my time to something beyond my studies, especially as that something was valued by so many prospective employers in the state. Second, it would buy me a little recognition among fans of my team who also happened to own businesses, or headed up Human Resources Departments, or made hiring decisions. For me, that was what the cheerleading squad was all about. It gave me some college cred while I was enrolled, and a leg up on the competition out in the real world, literally. That’s what I hoped.

As practice wrapped up, I saw that Slade had made his way over to the bleachers near where we were practicing. As usual, the groupies surrounded him immediately. Even the team captain let our routine wrap up so we could all bask in Slade’s glow. This sort of distraction was why we usually practiced in our own facility. We needed to be focused to make it look good on Saturday night. And the better we looked, the better the team looked. While the other girls drooled over him, he was watching me like a hawk—probably still gloating from our Entrepreneurship deal. I couldn’t deny that it felt strangely satisfying to have him pay that extra attention to me over the other girls, even if he didn’t have a chance in hell with me.

After running through a few more routines with my partner, it was time to call it a day. Slade waited patiently on the sidelines, eyes trained on me right until the last drill ended. When it was done, he came and sat beside my bag just before I got to it.

“Anything I can help you with? Or is this the painful reminder gloat that you got your way with Dr. Taylor this morning?”

“Maybe both. Or maybe I was admiring the view,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

I looked back at the rest of the cheerleaders. “Anyone I can help you with?”

“For me? I don’t need help in that department.”

Wasn’t that the truth.

I threw on a t-shirt over my sports bra and picked up my bag. “Well, which one? Maybe I can set you up.”

He grinned. That was the look he’d always get when he was in search of some shit to stir up. “That’s not why I came over here.”

Miranda came over and quickly picked up her things. “I’ll see you back at the dorm, Cass,” she said, heading off. “Good work out there, Slade.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he absently answered without looking away from me. Why was he acting this way all of a sudden? And why was it that all his staring made my cheeks heat and my heart race? I couldn’t believe my own body betrayed me like this. It had been years since he had this kind of effect on me.

“Just tell me what it is you want, Slade. I’ve got things to do.”

“I was thinking a study date.”

“For what?”

“You and I need to get together and get a handle on this project, remember?” I tried not to groan and roll my eyes. I knew what would happen if I agreed to any kind of date with him, study or other. “I was thinking my place,” he added, his voice heavy with the suggestion of what would happen there if I agreed to it.

“Absolutely not.”

“We still have to meet.”

“You know, it’s good you brought this up. I have a proposal for you.”

Slade took a step closer. “Really. What did you have in mind?”

I put my hand on his chest, trying to get him out of my personal space. The big guy was immovable, firm, solid, with heat radiating from his body. Christ, I needed some distance between us. Taking a step back instead, I told him, “I think I can handle this project for both of us.”

He cocked his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ll take care of everything and you can get your name on the end product. It’ll be easier that way.”

“What? Why would I do something like that?” He studied me, as though the answer was somewhere on my forehead. “Wait. You’ve got to be confusing me with someone else, Cassidy. I pull my own weight. Always. Besides, why would I let you do all the work when we can put our heads together and have a better end product?”

“Our heads, huh? Pffft. Sure.” I’m sure he wanted more than just our heads to get together. “Okay forget it. We’ll get it done as a team. Just don’t expect me to enjoy any part of it. So for this project meeting, let me think…”

I needed it to be somewhere neutral. I couldn’t suggest my dorm room, either. He’d definitely make a move, and if Miranda happened to be around, she would probably maul him or something.

“Let’s just do the library or the cafeteria. We can meet up there tomorrow afternoon.”

“We’ve both got practice,” he reminded me. “After practice is better. Like after seven.”

“No, definitely not. I was talking about before practice. Early afternoon, tomorrow, at the library. I’ll be there, whether you show up or not.” I decided not to be like other girls with him. I wasn’t going to let him walk all over me. I’d stand my ground and bend him to my will, or die trying. “If push comes to shove, Slade, I’ll just get it done. You can review everything along the way if your schedule’s too busy to fit this in.”