Play Me (7 page)

Erica jerks toward me causing us to sway over the white line. “What! And you forgot to tell me this? What the hell happened?”

I rest my head against her seat. “I don’t know. He’s so aggravating. I can’t stand him but he’s always so close. I’m sure it’s the charm that’s evaporated every single pair of panties in this zip code.”

Erica’s shaking her head when I look at her. “Didn’t you just tell me that you haven’t been out in a while?”
“Yes.”

“Then toss it back at him.”

“What?”

Erica blows up her blonde bangs. “Go get one good fuck out of him and then move on. This way you can get something you desperately need with a ridiculously hot man and you’re both happy.”

“So you’re suggesting a one night stand? What about Blake?”
Erica turns down the radio and turns into the Phi Lamb fraternity house. “Have fun with Blake. Dance. Kiss. Have sex. Date him. It’s up to you what you’re lookin’ for.” She fluffs her hair in the mirror. “But I’d suggest one … or two good nights with Weston.”

A good night with Weston. I’m not sure those words even make sense in a sentence together. He drives me crazy. But … he has
a little
charm, right?

“Here,” Erica says, shoving a flask in my face.

“Aren’t we here to get drunk? Why are we drinking now?”

“Because,” Erica says, adjusting her top. “We need to loosen you up before we get inside, especially if you’re going to let loose and have fun. Go ahead and take a drink.”

She’s right. I need to let loose. Turning the flask up, I chug down some brown liquor. It burns my throat. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I hand the flask back to Erica who shoves it in her jacket pocket. “Ready?”

I swallow the nervous lump in my throat. “Ready.”

Music blares from the open fraternity house windows. People litter the lawn. Some of them dancing, but most are just drinking and laughing. My heels click-clock against the brick walkway as Erica drags me toward the open front door.

Heat engulfs me as soon as we enter the room. There’s definitely more people here this time than last. And a lot of freshman girls are half-dressed and drunk.

“This place is packed,” I yell over the music toward Erica. She turns back and wiggles her eyebrows.

“It’s bloody brilliant,” she yells back.

Elbows shove at me while I try to keep up with Erica who is halfway to the kitchen. A keg is sitting on the kitchen table. A litter of frat boys are chugging down Red Solo cups beside it. Jason, the quarterback, throws his arm around Erica. “You’re hot. What’s your name?”

Erica looks back at me and gives me that
live a little
grin. I watch as he pulls on her hair and touches her arm. Erica laughs and leans closer to him. I don’t even worry about her; she can kick butt if it comes down to it.

“You made it,
Mami
,” I hear in my ear.

Turning around, I brace myself against the kitchen counter behind me. Blake leans closer to my ear. “You want something to drink?”

Yes. I think it’s the only way I’ll get through this. Nodding, I watch as he turns and pours me a drink. His low-slung jeans look great on him. His T-shirt tightens around his arms as he reaches for the punch. He isn’t really big like the linebackers, but he’s lean. Dark eyes with a heavy brow. He’s got a Mario Lopez vibe to him but with tattoos and long hair. Handing me my drink, Blake leans against the counter. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Me, too,” I lean up and whisper. “It’s nice to get out.”

He smiles, a dimple denting on his right cheek. I sip on my drink for a few minutes. It’s strong but I push it down. “You want to dance?”

My eyes turn to the group of gyrating students in the middle of the living room. Erica is in the corner grinding against Jason, who’s holding his hands up and pushing against her.

I glance up at him and nod. “Hell yes.”

With his hand pressed on my lower back, he guides me through the group of young adults. My pulse is in my ears, the liquor starting to course through me, giving me that extra nudge to let loose. Once we’re in the middle of the living room, Blake turns me against him and wraps his arms around my waist. I smile as we sway to the beat, his firm chest pressed against my back.

Wrapping my hand around his neck, I smile as he whispers the words of the song into my ear. Spanish.
He’s
singing
to me
in Spanish. I think my heart just dropped from my body. Rolling my neck, I glance in front of me and my mouth dries up.

On the couch in front of the open living room window, Weston is sitting there staring at me. His dirty blonde hair ruffled, light facial hair covering his jaw. Hooded eyes hold me in my place where I suddenly feel like I don’t belong. That strong jaw is locked, his thick lips pressed together in a hard line.

Every inch of my body heats as I watch him watch me. Some freshman that probably fits into a size zero is giving him a lap dance. Her brightly pink bra shows every time she bends over in his face. But he doesn’t look. His eyes are settled on Blake’s hands around my waist. “You move so smooth,
Mami,”
Blake whispers in my ear.

Turning my head slightly, I give him a small smile. “It’s been a while.”

He bites on my earlobe making my stomach tighten. “You’re doing great.”

Heat swarms my neck and cheeks but the alcohol is sending me over the edge. Who cares if Weston’s watching? He doesn’t own me. Hell, he doesn’t even like me. Who does he think he is? Trying to kiss me one day and acting insanely hot because he’s jealous. I can dance with whoever I want to. I don’t need him giving me dirty looks while a girl gives him a lap dance. Who died and made him the king of me?

Gyrating my hips against Blake harder, I toss my head back on his shoulder. Teeth and lips skim down my neck, spiraling ancient hormones that haven’t moved in a while.

I have no idea how long we dance but before long I’m about to pee on myself. Turning my face up, I yell, “I’ve gotta find the bathroom. See you in a bit?”

Blake nuzzles his lips against my neck and nods. “Come back.”
How could I not?
I’m actually having a decent time. Shoving my way through the crowd, I stagger up the stairs toward a long hallway. I check the rooms down the hall until I open the right door. I sit my cellphone on the bathroom counter and pull down my pantyhose.

Finally, relief!

It’s not until I’m washing my hands that the door opens. I drop the hand towel in my hand and jerk around. Weston is standing in the doorway. His huge hands wrapped over the top of the doorframe. The entire entrance is taken up by him. Dirty blonde hair is disheveled on top of his head. But he isn’t smiling. He doesn’t even look
nice.

“Uh … excuse you. I’m tryin’ to use the bathroom.”

Weston raises an eyebrow, limps forward and locks the bathroom door behind him with a click. “What are you doing, Roxy?” he asks, his voice rough. Those brown eyes lock with mine and pin me in place. With an aggressive I haven’t seen from him, he stalks toward me, without his crutches. When he stops, I’m pressed against the counter. Both of his hands are resting on each side of me. His lips an inch away from my own. I try to regain my rational thoughts but my head is spinning. Devouring itself in his scent. “What are you doing?” he asks again.

I clear my throat. “I –I’m using the bathroom. What are you doing?”

Over a hooded gaze, he stares me down. Those dark eyes observing my lips carefully. The tip of his finger trails up my arm to my mouth where he traces my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Thinking about doing things to this mouth.”

What?
Am I breathing right now? I take my lip inside my mouth and stare up at him. A growl like sound escapes from his throat. “Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing?” he asks, his lips at my ear. His other hand runs up my leg, over my pantyhose. The warmth of his hand sears my skin. “Grinding that tight little ass on him in front of me.” A soft kiss presses against my neck, making my legs wobbly.

“Well, that’s better than getting a lap dance from some slut in front of everyone,” I blurt out.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Where did that come from?
Weston growls in my ear, grabbing my waist and sitting me on the counter in front of him. The rough fabric of his jeans rubs against the insides of my thighs. Grabbing the back of my neck, he grips my hair and forces me to look at him. His lips touch mine, only slightly and he takes a deep breath in. “Goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ sexy. Do you know that? Especially when you’re jealous.”

Jealous? What. The. Hell.
Every rational thought in my head is trying to get out. “Jealous?” I ask, leaning backwards. Weston raises an eyebrow, daring me to disagree with him. I’m definitely jealous. That little slut was all over him. And it drives me crazy. I have no idea why.

Pushing against his chest, I slide off of the counter. He’s trying to bait me. He’s a player. He sleeps with tons of girls. This is what he’s good at … fucking good at.
Dammit.
Tilting my head up, I narrow my gaze at him. “I’m not jealous.”

Then I take a step toward the door. My fingers latch around the door knob at the same time Weston’s arms shoot out around me. Then he’s sitting us down on the closed toilet seat and sitting me on top of him.

Holy Fuck.
My dress slides up to my hip, exposing the top of my pantyhose. Not to mention the biggest dick rubbing against my pussy.

Jesus Christ he is so hard.
Wetness builds between my legs. With his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, he forces my mouth down to his. “I don’t play that shit, Roxy. I know you want me. Just like I want you.” He grinds upward, rubbing the bulge against me, letting me know exactly how much he wants me. I can’t stop the moan that leaves my lips. Weston’s eyes close as he groans.

“Kiss me,” he whispers against my lips. “Give me those fucking pouty lips.” Leaning closer to my ear he nibbles my neck. “Let me fuck your mouth with mine.”

Erica’s words run through my head. Live a little. Have him for one night. It wouldn’t hurt, right? “No,” I whisper helplessly.

Another growl. Pressing his cock harder into my spread legs, I yelp out, letting my head fall against his shoulder. It’s been so long. Since Maddox’s dad. Closing my eyes, I feel myself opening up.
One kiss wouldn’t hurt. Right?
Just one time.

Lowering my mouth to his, I watch him. “One time,” I whisper. “Just one time. One kiss and that’s it.”

A smile is riding on his lips, his chest heaving harder. “One fuckin’ kiss,” he whispers against my lips. “That’s all I need, sweetheart.”

Then he kisses me.

Hard lips press into mine, a sweet scent rocking me dizzy. One hand rests on the hem of my dress and the other guides my mouth against his. My sex warms as he grinds me down on him, all the while keeping my mouth busy with his tongue. His tongue forces my mouth open, spreading me wide for him. “Goddamn,” he moans into my mouth. “You taste so fucking sweet.”

Tears burn my eyes from the pleasure. A darkness is threatening to take over. All my fingers grip the back of his neck, lacing into his dirty blonde hair. He grunts, wrapping both hands around my back and pulling me harder down on him. But he doesn’t stop. One hand runs under the edge of my dress, grabbing the side of my ass.

I yelp out, the heat burning me to death. “Take this goddamn dress off,” he rips his mouth from mine to whisper in my ear. “I want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

Oh, God.
I want you to.

My dress is over my head and tossed on the bathroom floor before I have time to register his words. I’m in my underwear on top of him. Those lips part as his eyes lower to my boobs. The lacey bra I’m wearing barely keeps them at bay. “Jesus Christ,” Weston says, bringing his large hands up to cup me. Tenderly, he rubs his thumbs over the thin fabric of my bra, circling my nipples. “Oh,” I lean my head back, while he touches me.

“So fuckin gorgeous,” he whispers. With one hand resting against my chin he pushes his finger into my mouth. Heat warms my cheeks, but I suck him into my throat. He watches me suck his finger to the back of my throat, while he grabs my ass.

“Goddamn, I can’t wait to be inside you. Do you hear me, Roxy? I’m going to make you scream my fucking name.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Fuck.
Everything that’s happening rushes back to me. I look down. Weston is leaning against the back of the toilet, one finger in my mouth and the other spanned across my ass. I’m straddling Weston Garrison. In a bathroom. Something I said I would never do. Something that’s just as dangerous as it sounds.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper, staggering upward. My eyes rake over Weston, who has the biggest fucking erection I’ve ever seen. “No. No. No.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Turning, I reach down and grab my dress. I slip it back on before running my fingers through my hair in a pathetic attempt to fix it. “No,” I whisper, holding my finger against my lip.

Weston laughs. “Yes, baby girl. You almost fucked me in this bathroom. And you said you’d never fuck a guy in a bathroom? I wanted to make a fucking liar out of you.” He winks.

Gritting my teeth together, I slam my hands down on my hips. “No,” I point at his chest. “This was a lack of judgment. I was
not
going to sleep with you.”

Weston staggers to his feet. “Sweetheart,” he growls out. “You weren’t going to
sleep
with me. We were goin’ to
fuck.
I was going to fuck that little ass senseless. There is a difference. You started it. Taunting me. Trying to make me jealous. Wearing that fucking dress.” He tightens his fists.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“I wore this dress for
me
not
you
, asshole,” I look down at the floor. “I was not going to sleep with you.”

Then Weston smiles. Grabbing my hand, he places it on top of his cock. “You feel that,” he whispers. “You fucking did this to me and you fucking loved it.” Pressing me against the wall he stares down at me. “You were going to get every single inch. Just like you wanted.”