Her roommate, Allison, leans into her just then, speaking into her ear, causing James to laugh cheerfully. She throws her head back, exposing a column of neck I know smells like sweet coconut and tastes like dessert when it’s sucked on.
“Why do you keep looking over at Parker and his slam piece?” asks my teammate Pat Pitwell good-naturedly. For all his rough edges, he’s a really nice guy. Decent. He’s at school to wrestle, get a degree, and get out. He doesn’t sleep around, and he doesn’t make trouble.
So I’m honest with him. “I’m dating the girl in pink.”
“No shit?” Pitwell’s black bushy eyebrows shoot straight to the cornrows braided in his hair. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Goody two-shoes?”
I let the comment slide. “Yeah. I think she’s my girlfriend.”
“A girlfriend? Good for you, man.” He chugs from his red solo cup. “Pink sweater got a name?”
Pink sweater—that makes me smile. “James.”
“Seriously?” he asks again. “For real? Her name is James?”
“Yeah, seriously.”
“That’s a dude’s name.”
“I know.” We both study her from across the room. “But it suits her.”
“Home girl got class,” Pitwell observes over the top of his beer.
“She sure does.”
“Still wondering how she ended up with a brother like you, are you?”
“Every day.”
“Well good for you, man.” He looks her over. “She sure is a pretty little thing.”
A nod. “Sure is.”
“She can’t keep her eyes off you, brah. You should go over there, lay claim to that shit.”
His hand clamping down on my shoulder propels me forward. I cross the room with long, purposeful strides, making it to Jameson’s side in fifteen footsteps flat. Approach her from behind. Wrap my arms around her waist, lacing my fingers just under her breasts, lips pressing a kiss to the curve of her neck while giving Parker and Allison a nod. “What was that look you were giving me from across the room?” I ask into the shell of her ear.
She snuggles, sagging into me, but rolls her eyes. “Pfft, what look?”
“You know the look.”
Jameson taps a finger to her chin. “You’ll have to be more specific. Was it my ‘I’m thirsty and need another drink’ look, or my ‘I’m undressing Sebastian with my eyes’ look?”
“Yes.” Ignoring Parker and Allison, I can’t keep my hands off her and I drag them down her ribcage, settling them at the empty belt loops of her jeans. Tug and pull closer.
She makes no attempt to pull away, but rather, seems to melt into me.
Getting her into bed later will be a piece of cake.
“Fine, then yes. Guilty,” she teases. “It’s your fault for dragging me here—I just assumed I’d be spending tonight in pajamas watching a movie.”
“So what you’re saying is, you want to go back to bed?” I purr low in her ear so only she can hear me—not that anyone would be able hear us anyway, not with the music blasting through the surround sound, high-def speakers. The room practically vibrates.
Her laugh curls my toes. “Oh god, no—my crotch can’t handle any more Sebastian Osborne.”
“Wanna make a bet?”
This earns me another laugh; soft and sexy, her glossy hair beckons. I lift a hand to run my palm down the locks, fingers intimately straining through each satiny strand like sand through an hourglass.
Fuck, even her hair makes me hard.
I tug at the waistband of her jeans impatiently. “Come on, let’s get out of here and go back to my place before my roommates get home.”
I’m a young, randy, walking erection; she can hardly fault me for that. Jameson’s lips part to refute—or agree—but her response is cut off by her damn roommate, whose timing is for shit.
“This party is fun!” Allison banters shrilly, oblivious to the negotiations taking place, and frustrated, I grumble my displeasure into Jameson’s hair.
“Make her go away.”
“Thanks for the tickets to your meet the last week Oz. I had a great time, didn’t I James?” She nudges Jameson with her elbow—hard—prompting her. “They were amazing seats. Weren’t they amazing seats James?”
Great. She’s drunk.
Speaking of drunk, obnoxious friends—over Allison’s shoulder, I see a few guys from the wrestling team approaching, curiosity driving the nosy bastards forward. They’ve wasted no time encroaching on my territory.
Awesome.
“Heads up ladies, assholes approaching.” I step closer to Jameson and tighten my hold around her waist in solidarity.
Protectively.
A united front.
Leading the pack is Zeke Daniels, perpetual dickface, pushing through the crowd like a gladiator heading to battle. Determined and proud—and bearing a grudge.
His hard, steely crosshairs are on Jameson, then dart to Allison, dismissing her. Those untrusting gray eyes begin their perusal of Jameson, beginning at her feet, swiftly moving up her denim clad legs. Pausing at the apex of her thighs. Linger too long on her breasts. Face. Hair.
Zeke’s jaded perusal misses not a single scrap of fabric or inch of exposed skin on Jameson’s body.
My guard goes up when frozen regard hits her pristine pink sweater…the elegant necklace…the glossy lips. They narrow, irritated. Nostrils flare.
Shit, he really doesn’t want me dating this girl. I don’t know why or what his problem is, but I have a feeling at some point, I’m going to find out.
The hard way.
“Park. Ozzy. You gonna introduce us to your playthings?” Zeke’s sullen gray eyes hit the arm I have resting under Jameson’s tits and he plants a sneer on his face.
Dude is just so fucking miserable.
“Guys, this is Jameson,” I give her tiny waist a squeeze. “You know her roommate, Allison.”
Allison tips her hand in a perky, friendly wave. “Hey guys. Congratulations on your wins this week.”
We didn’t just beat Stanford—we decimated them, individually and as a team.
“Hi.” One of my teammates steps forward, arm extended in a greeting like he’s meeting the homecoming queen, his expression is eager. “I’m Gunder—I mean, I’m Rex. Rex Gunderson. Hi.”
Enthusiastic doesn’t do Gunderson justice.
Wrestling in the lightweight class, Rex might be a winner on the mat, but he’s obviously out of practice with ladies; I can practically visualize the growing chub inside his pants and hear the internal dialogue: Hi, I’m Rex. You’re pretty. Can I take you back to my dorm and date you? I’ve never touched boobs. Can we date? And by date, I mean hump.
“Rex, it’s nice to meet you.” Jameson’s hand goes out for a handshake and Gunderson works it like a water pump. Once, twice. Three times.
Four.
Five.
I glower. “Okay dude, that’s e-fucking-nuff.”
Beside him, Zeke makes his move.
“Jameson, Jameson, now where have I seen you before?” he asks, casually rubbing the stubble along the square jawline he hasn’t bothered to shave in days. Beefy fingers snap in her direction. “Right! Sexy Librarian. I almost didn’t recognize you without all the books. You must be a fantastic lay to have our boy Ozzy here following you around like a dog in heat—without being paid, too.”
My arms fall from Jameson’s waist, prepared to—
“I know all about you betting him to kiss me, so don’t bother bringing it up.” Chin tipped up, Jameson takes the wind out of his sails with blatant animosity.
Allison snorts and becomes the next target of Zeke’s rapid-fire loathing. “Allison, Allison, Allison. You’re another story entirely. Want to know what we call you behind your back?”
Oh shit, he’s gonna say it.
In front of everyone.
“Zeke, dude, don’t.” I put my arm out to stop him, fingers braced against his rock solid chest in protest.
He laughs, shoving me back. “Around our place we call you Fuck Buddy.”
Fuck.
“Wow. Just…w-wow.” Allison’s lip quivers but she holds her ground. “Y-you…you are rude. I should slap you,” Allison chastises him, small spray-tanned fists clenched at her sides. “I want to slap you. James, can I slap him?”
Drunk Allison is a tigress.
“I know I’m rude.” Zeke shrugs, raking those weird gray eyes down her body, stepping into her personal space, leaning in close. “I just. Don’t. Care.”
Allison takes a step back, glancing from me, to Zeke, and back. “I cannot believe this dickhead is Parker’s roommate.”
I can’t believe it either and become desperate to extinguish these flames. “Can someone find Parker? Gunderson. Go. And hurry the fuck up.”
“You are a piece of shit,” Allison shouts above the music. “Who do you think you are?”
Everyone watches the sparring match between Zeke and Allison, enthralled by the live entertainment. Someone even turns down the sound system to a dull roar.
Allison continues challenging Zeke, undaunted. “What’s your problem with us? Huh? Answer me!”
Zeke’s hot head is decidedly cool. “When you deserve my respect, I will give it to you.” His gaze sweeps over Jameson. “She is a gold-digging bet he shouldn’t have won, and you’re just a Tinder swipe.”