King of Campus (50 page)

Honestly, I just want this girl off me. All she's doing is getting in my way. I'm on a mission to find the mystery girl who made me spill my beer.

Hold on... squinting, I tilt my head to the left, then the right trying to catch another glimpse of blond hair moving through the crowd.

I'm pretty sure that's her by the front door. I want to call out, to stop her from leaving. For some odd reason I want to finish our absurd conversation out by the keg but how can I do that? How can I capture her attention from way over here? There has to be about twenty people milling around between us. And the music is blasting.  People are laughing and talking.  I can barely hear myself think over all this noise.

I'm wondering how to detach Marissa-the-barnacle from my body when her arms snake around my neck. Man, this chick is way stronger than she looks. Just as she's dragging my face to hers, I see blond beer girl turn and look straight at me. I open my mouth to yell something at her. Something that will stop her from leaving but Marissa plasters her lips against mine.  All I can do is hold Beer Girl's eyes.

She smirks in return as if to say-
see, total man whore
.

And then the moment is over and she's gone.

I can't believe this.

Beer Girl is gone.

I don't even know her name.

I'm not sure why that bothers me, but it does. And the fact that it bothers me, bothers me even more. Because this is not normal Parker Montgomery behavior. This has definitely been one bizarre interlude. Maybe it's for the best that it's over. I really need things to slide back to normal because right now, I'm feeling fairly unsettled.

"Parker," Marissa kisses my mouth again, "why are you frowning like that?"

Tired of being ignored, Marissa lays both of her palms against my cheeks before snapping my face back to hers. Satisfied that she's fully hijacked my attention, she adds in a voice that sounds suspiciously toddler-ish, "I thought you liked my kisses." She gives me a pouty face to go along with her words.

I can literally feel my brows drawing together as I stare at her. Under normal circumstances, I do enjoy Marissa's kisses. She's an excellent kisser. Definitely a top ten in my book. She doesn't use too much suction. And she keeps her saliva to a minimum. I absolutely hate both of those things. Who wants to feel as if someone is trying to suck the tonsils right out of their body? I sure as hell don't. And frankly the thought of someone else's saliva pooling in my mouth just about makes me gag. Maybe I'm a little particular about the way I like being kissed but those two things are total deal breakers for me.

She flutters her long mascara laden lashes as she continues to coo in a soft baby voice, "Don't you want to take me home tonight?"

Ah, not if she's going to continue talking to me like that, I don't.

Why the hell is she talking like that anyway? It's a total turn off.

I suppose it's entirely possible that she has some kind of speech issue I've never noticed before because... well, let's face it, Marissa and I don't exactly engage in a ton of verbose conversations when we're together.

"Umm," honestly, I'm not in the mood.

She must sense that she's losing my interest because she starts very gently nibbling at my lips. Something within me loosens. Actually, a lot within me loosens. Okay, now I'm really starting to enjoy this. What I like even more is that she's taking my mind off Beer Girl and the giant asshat I just made out of myself.

Now this,
this
is how my interactions with chicks usually end up. Not whatever sad attempt that was out there by the keg. And they certainly don't call me a man whore and walk away either.

Thankfully she's stopped all that stupid baby talk and is whispering things that are better left unsaid in a public forum such as this. Giving in, because I'm not made of stone after all (well, maybe one part of me is) I finally wrap my arms around her. I feel the smile of satisfaction curve her lips upward as she continues licking and nipping at my mouth.

Ahhh, that feels so good.

"Are you ready to get out of here, Parker?  Because I am."

For some reason my eyes stray one last time to the front door before returning to Marissa.

I’m not going to lie, this has kind of been a weird night for me. So, yeah, I'm definitely ready to go.

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Chapter One

Shaking my head, I watch as my roommate, Brooklyn, busts out all her best moves on the makeshift dance floor.  She’s the tall blonde dancing with her hands twisting in the air almost as if she’s doing a very sad Stevie Nicks impersonation.

I almost wince.

Yeah… it’s that bad.

If I had to guess, I would say that Brooklyn isn’t feeling the slightest bit of pain at the moment.  I’m sure the liquid refreshment currently on tap is to be thanked for that.  I’m hoping tomorrow will be a completely different story.  She deserves the hangover-to-end-all-hangovers for dragging me to this God awful excuse to drink beer, get rowdy, and troll for a hook up or two.

My plan for the remainder of this evening consists of staying inconspicuously tucked away in the back corner and sipping my tepid diet soda because being a girl and walking around a drunken fraternity party is apparently an unofficial invitation to have your ass groped by some random dude.  Or should I say random
dudes
because this has now happened twice.  And a third time will very likely push me right over the edge of my douchebag tolerance limit for the evening.

The objective tonight is to keep an eye on Brooklyn and when the clock strikes twelve, drag her ass out of here… and I’m totally okay if it’s kicking and screaming.  Impatiently I glance at my cell phone for probably the twentieth time in the last two hours.

It’s only eleven.

This has officially become painful. 

I’m unfortunately snapped out of my dark thoughts on just how I will torture Brooklyn when a stray hand slides its way across my jean covered butt.

Seriously?

Even though I try to control it, my heartbeat hitches for just a moment before I spin around with tightened fists, ready to knock some unsuspecting jerk senseless.

“Excuse me,” I all but snarl through tightly clenched teeth, “get your damn hand off my ass before I break every single bone in your fingers!”  And contrary to what you might think, it’s not an idle threat.  I’ll do it.  As I turn, my eyes slam into probably the widest, burliest chest I’ve ever had the sad misfortune to inspect this up close and personal.

A sigh of disgust leaves my downturned lips before I can rein it back in.

Perfect.

Very slowly I crane my neck up, up, up until I’m finally able to glare into his eyes.  The freakishly large oaf now standing in front of me has the audacity to smile lazily, his gaze happily blurred.  “Hey sexy, want to dance?”  

The guy barely looks able to stand up straight let alone move his gargantuan body out on the dance floor.  If he goes down, it’ll be like a massive tree falling.  And I don’t even want to think about the huge mark he’ll inevitably leave on his potential dance victim.

My brows draw together in aggravation before I quickly shake my head.  “No, I don’t want to dance.  What I’d actually like is for you to remove your hand from my ass.”

Because, believe it or not, it’s still there.

He actually has the nerve to widen his grin before squeezing my butt cheek in that massive paw of his.  My eyes flare wide with shock and I think steam pours out of my ears.

Oh hell no- that did
not
just happen.

Wiping the disgust from my face, I give him my best come hither smile.  Just because I never use these kinds of tactics doesn’t mean I don’t know how.  His already dilated eyes widen like he’s just hit the jackpot.  Stepping a bit closer to the big knuckle dragging Neanderthal, I crook my finger kind of all sexy-like until he bends down.  When our lips are close enough to touch, I drag my mouth to his ear.  Then, before I can utter a single word, I clamp my fingers around his balls (which are, in case you’re wondering, oversized just like the rest of him) in what I seriously hope is a death grip.  Just for good measure, I give them a little twist.  He hisses out a breath in response.

Now that I have his undivided attention, I growl, “If you don’t get your damn hand off my ass immediately, I will continue squeezing until something pops.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” he squeaks, sounding almost faint.

Not a second later, he releases my offended butt cheek.

And I, in return, release his still intact nuts.  But not before I tighten my fingers one last time to drive home the gravity of the predicament this moron now finds himself in.  For about ten seconds we glare at each other before he carefully backs away from me and my nut clenching fingers.  As he does, his face gets all sad and mopey like I’ve done something wrong which is seriously laughable.

Frankly, I’m still pissed as hell.

“You’re not a very nice girl,” he mutters like a cross child before taking a huge gulp of what I assume to be beer from a big red plastic cup.

Rather unattractively I snort in response.  “Nope.  But hopefully you’ve learned a valuable lesson regarding the pitfalls of grabbing some unsuspecting girl’s ass.”  Although, gaging from his unapologetic stance towards me, my guess is that he has not taken this lesson to heart.  On second thought- “Just refrain from grabbing
any
girl’s ass.  Contrary to what you apparently think- we don’t like it. 
At all
.”

“Some girls do,” he pipes up still sporting an intense frowny face which is probably supposed to make me feel bad.  It doesn’t.

Eyes narrowing, I shake my head.  “No, we don’t.  It’s degrading and just plain rude.”

He smirks before sneering, “No one’s ever complained before.”

Not only do I find that comment completely dubious but I can almost feel my blood pressure sky rocketing.  Yep, Brooklyn is definitely a dead woman because this party has moved beyond painful to full out tortuous.  “What’s your name?”

“Alex Mc-”

I hold up my hand effectively cutting him off.  “That’s enough.”  For just a moment, my eyes fly around the general vicinity we’re standing in.  Luckily, as packed as this massive party is, it doesn’t take long to find exactly what I’m looking for.  “Excuse me,” I shout over the pulsating music at a pretty girl walking past us.  With a smile gracing her lips, she turns.  The high wattage smile slips from her face once she realizes that she doesn’t know who the hell either one of us are.

Before she’s able to make a hasty get away, I quickly launch into my spiel.  “Hi, what’s your name?”

Her gaze, which is slightly blurry as well (jeez, are there seriously no sober people at this party?), quickly bounces between Alex and myself.  I can tell she’s hesitant to give me any information.

“Stacy.”

I give her my most reassuring smile.  “Hi, Stacy, I’m Cassidy and this is,” I point to the obnoxious buffoon standing next to me, “Alex.  We’re having a little disagreement that we need settled.  Would you mind weighing in on the matter?”

With Stacy still looking uncertain, I barrel on.  “My friend here thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to walk around a party grabbing the butts of girls he doesn’t know.  And furthermore, he’s under the impression that we enjoy it.  I’m just wondering if you might have any thoughts on the matter.”

Stacy no longer looks hesitant or uncertain as her heated gaze swings back to Alex.  Then, in a big sweeping gesture, she jerks her hands out in front of her.  “What makes you think any girl would enjoy being touched by some random dude she doesn’t even know?”

Alex opens his mouth as if he might actually have a rebuttal in mind, but Stacy has other ideas.  Like screeching at him in a very high, potentially eardrum shattering voice.  “Where do you get off thinking you can grope a girl simply because you’re drunk at a party?  Is there something seriously wrong with you?  Do you have any concept that we’re living in the twenty-first century?”

Alex snaps his mouth shut and even though it’s fairly difficult, I do my best to suppress the smile that is desperately trying to spread its way across my face as she continues to berate him.

“That’s called sexual harassment, buddy.”  Her hands fly to her hips as she continues glaring.  “Do you know that I could call the police and have you ticketed?  Or even arrested!”

Okay, I’m not exactly sure if that’s true but I’m just going to roll with it.

As if finally realizing that this teeny tiny chick is going to go completely bat shit crazy all over his dumb ass, Alex’s wide brown eyes shift helplessly to mine as Stacy pokes a slender finger at his massive, wall-like chest.

He kind of looks like he might want me to intervene on his behalf.  I almost laugh because that is
so
not
going to happen.  I’m viewing this whole thing as a
teachable moment
.  I only hope that Alex is teachable.  Although, in all honesty, the jury is still out on that one… because from what I’ve seen tonight regarding Alex, my guess is probably not.