Slammed (6 page)

LUCY

I come downstairs and the house is buzzing. Almost every sister is awake and fluttering around in various pastel PJs. I find Amber poring over her cell, a couple of the other sisters looking on.

I yawn. “What’s happening? If there was a memo about a communal breakfast, I didn’t get it.”

Amber grins. “Oh, it’s much, much better than breakfast.” She holds her cell out. “Here, take a look.”

It takes me a moment to work out what I’m looking at, but when I do I almost drop the phone. “Cheese and crackers, is that Charleston, the basketball captain?”

Amber nods. She’s way too excited. “Sure is, tied up to a pole, naked, cock like a drinking straw.”

I look closer. She ain’t wrong. “How did he…? Was it some kind of pledge prank, hazing?”

Amber shrugs. “Could be. The women’s basketball team found him like that on the training courts this morning. Apparently, the poor guy looked like he’d been through hell, actually pleaded with them to keep it a secret. Like that was going to happen. I almost feel sorry for him.”

I recall what happened at the party. “Don’t. He’s an assh-” I stop myself.

Amber looks at me with her eyes all squinty. “Look at you go, potty mouth. What’s next? Drunk on the roof? Bonging it up by the bandstand?”

“Real funny.”

Amber squints a little closer, the other sisters clueing in. “What’s really going, Lucy? It’s a guy, isn’t it?”

I blush, my weakness.

Amber seizes on it, more of the sisters moving over. “It
is
a guy. Who? You have to tell us.”

“I can’t.”

Amber jumps up and down, her enthusiasm for my love life infectious. “I knew it! I knew it!” and all serious again, “but for real, who is it?”

One of the other girls speaks up. “We’re all sisters here. In fact, as your house mother, I command you to tell us who it is.”

I don’t know if I should say anything, but the peer pressure is too great. What would be the harm? I could actually use some advice and support in this matter.
But you haven’t even kissed him, even given him any kind of indication you like him.

“Nate,” I blurt out. “Nate Compton.”

The room erupts. Amber draws me into a tight embrace. You’d think I’d just won the lottery. And that’s how it goes on all morning—Lucy Middleton, soon to be virgin leper no longer.

*

Compared to the craziness of the house earlier, being alone with Nate is like attending mass, the only sound in the room the ticking of the air-con above. But he seems distant, distracted today.
Could word really have spread that fast?

“You okay?” I offer, so close to him I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

He stops tapping his pen against the table and smiles at me, his eyes every color of the ocean. There’s paradise there, I know it, but also something lurking deeper, something hiding in the dark. “Just happy to be here.”

I close the textbook. “We don’t always have to study, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow of suspicion. “What exactly are you proposing?”

I realize my mistake and put my hands up. “Oh, no, no, no, I wasn’t-”

“Pity,” he says, his eyes never leaving me.

I blush harder, La Tomatina lighting up my cheeks.
Change the freakin’ subject!
“You grew up around here?”

He looks at his arms. “Do I look like I grew up around here?”

Good one, Lucy.
“No, I guess not.”

I’m surprised when he continues, reels out his life story. “My parents died when I was little. I grew up in the foster system, a
long
way away from here.”

I can’t believe he’s speaking this like, so open. “That must have been tough.”
I know the feeling.

I’m itching to tell him everything, but I can’t let this moment slip. I have to let him continue.

He does. “It
was
tough. My first foster parents were… challenging.” He pauses and I think he’s going to close up again, but he takes a breath and continues. “Eventually, I got out. They paired me up with this guy, a real hard-ass, but in a good way, you know? He put me right, got me into ball. He didn’t have much.
We
didn’t have much, but he made the most of it.”

“Sounds like an impressive man.”

“He was.”

I don’t miss the tense.

“Your dad, the Dean, what was he like growing up?”

I’m a bit annoyed he’s deflected the conversation my way, but since he’s opening up, I have to do the same. “Well, you might be surprised to learn it, but I was in the foster system too.”

“Really?”

“Really. I was young. I can’t recall a lot of it, but what I have I’ve tried to forget.”

“You really don’t remember?”

“Bits and pieces. It was a big home that always looked like it was about to fall down, like it was sitting on crutches, a terrible place. I remember I was a loner. There were lots of kids, real nasty, but this one, a boy, I can’t remember his name—Jacob? Jason?—he protected me.”

“From who?”

“From the father.” I’ve tried to suppress this for so long. My eyes start to grow wet and heavy, but I keep going. “He was an alcoholic. His benders… None of us wanted to be anywhere near him when he was like that. He always wanted me, called me his little lamb, but that boy, he’d just stand between us and take the beating. He’d curl up and let the old man lay into him.” I try to recall more, recall the boy’s face, but it’s just a blur, fragments of memories lost.

I take a breath, wipe my eyes. “Anyhow, I was transferred into Dad’s care when I was five. I
do
remember that day. They never even told me he was coming. He just showed up and took me away. As far as I’m concerned, he is my father. I owe him everything.”

Nate looks serious, taking it in. “And the boy, the one who helped you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You never tried to find him?”

“Dad threw out all the records from that time, says it’s no use looking back, and he’s probably right. Maybe someone came along and saved him, the boy. He’s probably a Wall St banker, a judge or something now. At least, I hope so.”

“And your dad, the Dean, he treated you well?”

“Like his own.”

“Which is why you’re helping me.”

Honesty is the best policy. “At first, but it’s different now.”

“How so?”

“I know the real you, the real Nate Compton under that bravado and ink. You’re just a big marshmallow in there, aren’t you?”

He laughs, glances down at his crotch. “Not everywhere.”

I look down briefly sure I can see a bulge in his pants. My core tightens at the thought, a pang of need running from my head to my pelvis, and I’m wet. Holy hell am I wet just being here so close to him. My heart hammers in my chest, my breathing shallow but quick. We’re watching each other with such intensity I’m sure at any moment the entire room is going to up and combust.

Our heads start to come together and I’m lost in his eyes, the need too great and overwhelming.
Just let it happen.

It does.

He takes me by surprise and pulls me to him, kisses me, his lips so hot they burn molten against my own. All I can do is kiss him back, our breath and desire caught as one, the library melting away around us.

And it’s wrong, but it’s right, so different to how I thought it would be—so
intense
.

He stands and I go with him, my hands running up his sides. My chair falls over, Nate turning us until my butt’s pressing hard against the edge of the table, his hands busying themselves unbuttoning my blouse, my bra popping upwards and my breasts exposed before him.

He never breaks the kiss, his tongue caught with my own, his thick thighs jamming me in place and my whole body electric.

His lips pull away and I gasp, my chest rising and lifting under his hand. He leans forward and takes one of my nipples into his mouth, pulls it until it becomes a tawny tower against his tongue. I weave my hands through his hair, watching through the window of the study room as the stacks watch on.

He sucks harder until the nub is firm and numb, moving upwards to kiss the side of my neck while his free hand moves under my skirt and tugs my underwear aside. He pushes me back onto the table, his eyes meeting my own before he takes my mouth again, the emotion and heat between us causing a convulsion to run through my legs.

Our tongues fight for territory, his chiseled features in my hand. It is happening, and he’s dropping, dropping to his knees in front of me, his powerful arms pushing my thighs wide and the mouth of my virgin pussy yawning open in response.

His fingers slide down my thighs into that slick valley, his calloused fingers finding my clit easily as I whimper and shiver knowing we could be sprung at any moment, that this is taking place right here in the open.

“Nate,” I whisper, a ghost, my eyes closing as his fingers are replaced by his mouth, my desire increasing with every lash of his tongue. He separates my lips and darts deeper until my juices flow freely around him, and suddenly the influx of sensation is too much to take.

I rise, my whole body willing it. My fingers claw into his scalp and my hips start to buck, forcing the dripping face of my pussy hard against his mouth. He savors it, licks me from top to bottom until I moan and mew aloud, holding him in place just a little longer… just… “Oh god.”

A crash sends us both flying apart. I leap off the table and pull my blouse back into position, seeing through the window that one of the librarians has turned her cart over on the way down to the stacks.

I’m still tingling, so, so close to release, but the moment I look at Nate, at his faint stubble still wet with my arousal, it all evaporates.

What are you doing?

“I-” I turn away, buttoning up my blouse, my fingers slipping.

With him?

He reaches out for me, his erection obvious. “Lucy, wait.”

I grab my bag and rush past him, don’t even bother collecting my books. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

I run out of the library with my senses alight, a conflict of biblical proportions hammering away in my head.

I can’t be with a guy like Nate Compton, but then I remember the way he kissed me, his mouth on my…
No, no, no, no, no.

I’m startled when someone taps me on the shoulder. I spin to find Creepy Guy smiling at me. He’s got something stuck in his teeth. Spinach. “You never called me back.”

I start running again, yelling “sorry.” I run until I put as much distance between myself and the library as possible.

NATE

I sink the three just before the buzzer, my hand still hanging in the air as the Cat House goes crazy. I thought it was full the first night, but even the stairs have become temporary seating now.

I’m more at ease here with every game, but when I see Lucy, I freeze. She’s trying her best not to look like she’s watching me from the first row, perks of being the Dean’s daughter, no doubt.

I can’t get the library out of my head. I didn’t think it could work. Our worlds are so far apart. But that was no preacher’s daughter in there. No, that was something else entirely.

I’m about to head over when the preacher man himself blocks my way. He holds my shoulder. “Well done, Nate. Seems like it’s all paying off.”

I remain cold and keep walking, diverting from Lucy now to the lockers. She watches us curiously.

The Dean stands in front of me again. “How’s the study going?”

“You didn’t tell me your tutor was
her
.”

The Dean folds his arms, looks to the rafters. “What can I say?”

I stand closer. “You never told me she was here, at Manning.”

“I didn’t see the need. Are you saying it’s not working?”

Her lips on mine, the hint of salt as I took her nipple into my mouth. “No… I just… It was unexpected, that’s all.”

His eyes grow sharper. I still remember the way he looked over me back then. I’ll never forget it.

He crosses his arms. “What have you told her?”

“Nothing, but she’s going to connect the dots eventually.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but I can’t have you jeopardizing your position here. Do you understand me?”

I say it through gritted teeth. “Yes.”

He smiles and pats me on the chest. “Good, because if you keep this up, who knows how high you’ll climb.”

The locker room’s buzzing. Winning will do that.

Coach finds me on the bench getting dressed.

Tyson throws up a high five on his way out, “Later, King Compton.”

The Coach places his foot up onto the bench, hands on his hips like he’s Colonel Custer. “King Compton?”

“Seems I have a nickname.”

“Cute.”

Charleston passes and nods.

Coach watches the exchange. “Looks like you two have resolved your differences.”

I smirk. “In a way.”

I can still hear the crowd above perky post-win. In fact, it’s our third win in a row.

Coach knows it. “We’re on a roll thanks to you.”

I start undoing my laces. “Thanks to the team, you mean.”

He laughs. “The ‘team.’ Let’s not bullshit, Compton. Without you and your high flying we’d be in the shit, wouldn’t we?”

“I’m trying to be a team player.”

Coach nods and sits next to me. “I know, son. I’ve seen it out there. Your average is ten points down because of it, but as a team we’re up twenty, so I think it all evens out, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would.”

“I know where you come from. They play by different rules out there, which is fine. College ball? It’s all a big show, just a watered-down NBA full of whiney rich brats and shadowy father figures.”

“You trying to be my father figure?”

“Fuck no. I know trouble when I see it. Take your little lady, for example.”

I act dumb. “Little lady?”

“I’m old, but I’m not blind. I saw her making her escape the other morning.”

“I was just helping her out.”

“I don’t care if you were fucking her five ways to Sunday, you can bet your ass the Dean’s going to rain down fire and brimstone when he finds out.”

“Have you told him?”

Coach pats me on the leg. “Give me a little more credit than that. I need you alive and throwing threes, not dead under the science block.”

I run my fingers through my hair, think about the way she stroked me there, so delicate running down the side of my neck, the sweet inside of her mouth. “It’s going to be a problem, isn’t it?”

Coach nods. “The Dean started at Manning this year, but like I said, we were here together back in the day, as students. He loves this place, but he loves that girl more. If he thinks something’s going to threaten her… well.”

“I’ll play it safe.”

The coach stands. “Don’t be a dumbass, Compton. Make a choice—the girl or the court. I hate to be the voice of reason, but you can’t have both.

*

Another day passes in agony. I’m high from the win, but what went down between Lucy and me remains unresolved.

I finally manage to catch up to her up outside the cafeteria. I try to be as casual as I can, backpack slung over my shoulder.

We stand a foot apart. She grips a textbook tight, red ribbon in her hair. I’ve seen it before. “Hey.”

“Hey.”
Go easy. Act casual.
“No Amber?”

“No Amber.”

She looks away, clearly awkward.
You’re losing her.

“You see the game?”

“I did. You were great.”

I can’t take it anymore. I hold her by the arm and pull her into an alcove, students rushing past between classes. “About the library.”

She casts her eyes down. “It was a mistake. I’m not that kind of girl.”

I lift her face up. “How do you know? You’re not even going to try?”

“You and me… If Dad ever found out.”

I can’t believe I’m being so persistent about this when reason tells me I should be pushing her away, protect her from the harm and heartbreak that will no doubt come crashing down upon her if she’s with me. She wouldn’t be able to take it. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about, Lucy.” I run my hand through my hair. “God, I’ve never felt like this before.”

I see the barest hint of a smile. “Really?”

I smile back. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

She places her hand on my chest, brand hot. “We wouldn’t want that now.”

I take her arms. “Please, Lucy. Give us a chance. I know I’m probably not the guy you pictured being with, but trust me, we can be good together. Let me show you.”

She breathes out. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll do anything.” I sound like Charleston when I had him on the pole—pathetic. But it works. Lucy’s smile brightens. Her body relaxes and moves slightly, imperceptibly closer. “Anything, you say?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, but I have rules.”

“Shoot.”

“One, we have to keep this quiet. Dad cannot find out.”

“Agreed.”

“Two, I’m new to this, so you have to go slow.”

“Of course.”

I’d agree to anything. Deep down in the darkest hollow of my soul I know that is not a good thing no matter how promising this relationship seems right now.

Those eyes, those legs wrapped around me.

“Three, no more walls. We’re completely open and honest with each other.”

I nod. “Easy.”

The alarm on her cell goes. “Look, I’m late for my next class, but I’ll meet you in the tree line behind the granny flat tonight. Eight?”

“Make it ten. Coach hits that Irish bar in town on Thursdays. Won’t be back until the sun rises.”

She lifts herself up onto her toes and kisses me with those plump lips, her floral scent intoxicating, her tongue teasing more.

She breaks away, her lips closing, her face alive, beautiful. “I, ah, I’ll see you later.”

I watch her go, watch the way the cutest ass in the world taunts me with every step.

Lucy Middleton, what are you doing to me?

*

I meet her in the tree line just behind the granny flat. She’s in jeans and a white V-neck sweater. There are no stripper heels or cameltoe-tight LBD. She’s just Lucy, and I love that. I need that simplicity in my life.

Simplicity? Who you kiddin’, Compton.

I wasn’t kidding. She
is
all I’ve been thinking about, consuming every waking moment. I could barely focus on the game, miraculously getting through the stats exam but just wanting it to end and this moment right here to arrive.

We stand. I want to take her in my arms, kiss her, but it seems awkward again. Instead we face each other. We both speak at the same time, and then again. “You first,” I offer.

“You’re late.”

I scratch my arm. “Coach held me up in training.”

“I thought you said he was going to the bar?”

“He will. Goes straight from training. Shall we go inside?”

Lucy smiles, her whole face lighting up below me even in the darkness. “Definitely.”

The only problem with the granny flat is that you have to go down the side of Coach’s house to get there. We both know he’s out, but still we crouch, giggling like teenagers as I close the door behind us, and then, finally, we are alone.

We’re both breathing hard even though we’ve barely run a hundred yards.

“I don’t know what to do,” she says.

We both crack up, the ice suddenly broken by the absurdity of the situation.

She places her hands on my chest. “How’s that?”

“Good. Nice.”

She shifts her hands down to my hips, my cock already iron hard. “Now?”

“Better.”

Her lips are parted, her strawberry breath intoxicating in the extreme.
Control yourself, big boy.

I take her face in my hands, her perfect ivory skin so at odds with my own, marked and covered in ink, a tapestry of depression. “I like you, Lucy. It seems you like me. It’s simple, right?”

She breathes in. “I wasn’t kidding. I’m new to this.”

“What?” I laugh. “You’ve never been with a guy?”

“Matter of fact…”

“Oh, Jesus, I didn’t mean it like that.”

She smiles and I’ve never been more relieved in my life. “I know, but this is all so foreign to me.”

“You seemed to know what you were doing in the library.”

She runs a finger down my chest. “I take it you’re
not
a virgin.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“I mean, that’s fine. I guess it’s good that you’re experienced.”

I place my finger on her top lip, so soft. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you and me, now, right in this moment.”

She takes the hem of my jersey and lifts it up over my head, fingers brushing the hard mounds of my abs, her eyes constantly moving over my skin.

I remove her sweater in turn, her shirt. She reaches behind herself and pops the clip on her bra.

Before she removes it, I stop her. “Are you sure?”

“Of what?”

“Are you sure you want to do this, be with a guy like me for your first?”

“A guy ‘like you?’ Okay, so it’s not what I pictured when I was reading
Seventeen
, but yes, I want to be with
you
, not what the world thinks when they see you. There’s more to Nate Compton than tattoos and a tight ass.”

She pinches my butt as she says it, her bra dropping away between us and her breasts exactly as I remember—full and perky, cherry cigar stubs stiff with arousal.

I can’t hold out any more. I take my hands to her face and kiss her long and deep, my tongue pressing between her lips and her mouth, taking it eagerly, her own warming in response.

She sucks in air through her teeth as I work my way down her neck, her hands fumbling with my belt and zipper. She peels my pants down and I do likewise, pulling her jeans and panties down as one, the scent of her arousal overpowering, my cock twitching.

“Nate.” It’s a whisper into the air, an invitation.

My cock springs free. She takes it in her hand, breathing labored as I press it against her leg, her fingers ringing the root of it awkwardly, but her inexperience only making the whole thing insanely hot.

“You’re so big,” she whispers, her lips at my ear. “It’s warm.”

She’s so fucking cute it’s unbelievable, her nipples pressing into my chest, her thighs opening enough to allow my hand access.

I exhale with a halted punctuation of air as my fingers run over her mound. I press them into her folds and feel her wetness, her arousal hot and sticky.

She moans and I can feel her heart tapping away between us, the way she grinds down against my hand, hers eagerly jerking off my cock.

“Does that feel good?” she queries, genuinely curious.

I’m struggling to hold myself back. “Amazing.”

With her free hand she lifts mine harder between her thighs, my forefinger finding her clit enflamed with need.

She’s breathing so hard I’m worried she’s going to hyperventilate.

“I want you inside me,” she says, desperate.

“Okay,” I reply, my whole being wanting nothing more, happy if I was to live my whole life broke only to have possession of this memory.