Jock Rule (Jock Hard 2)

Which brings me to…

Pussy, noun: female genitals. Vagina. A place I haven’t sunk myself into in far too long, and now that I’m thinking about it, the dick in my pants gets stiff.

I’m uncomfortable in these thin, mesh gym shorts, which, in hindsight, were probably a bad idea—though it’s not like I planned to get a woody after I already jerked off once tonight.

Get your damn head out of the gutter, Sasquatch—the last thing you need is sex on the brain.

And sex with Teddy? Out of the question, even though I’d fuck her any day of the week if the circumstances were different.

But they’re not, and I’m going to graduate and be out of here, and then I’ll never see this place again because I’ll be working in corporate America and probably miserable.

And clean shaven.

Yay me.

“My services are available if you want them. No pressure.”

“What services. Are you a tutor now too?”

“No—the hairy godmother thing. Those parties are boring as fuck, and helping you would give me something to do.”

“I…I’ll think about it.” She laughs, pulling her hair into a ponytail and securing it with the rubber band wrapped around her slender wrist. Glancing over her shoulder occasionally, worrying her bottom lip, eyes darting to the kitchen and up the stairs. Almost agitated.

Strange.

“Uh, are you looking for something?”

She jerks her head away from the entry of the hallway, startled. “I’m sorry, I just keep expecting your parents to walk in. It’s making me nervous.”

“They aren’t here.”

“I know, you said that—I just think it’s odd that you live here. Alone. In this gorgeous house. Alone. What are you, twenty-one?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Still not normal.”

No, it’s not her normal, but it’s mine—and it’s pretty fucking hard to explain to people, which is the exact reason I never bring anyone here, guys or girls. It’s just not worth the long, inevitable, drawn-out explanation. Plus, I don’t owe it to anyone; it’s my business, and I like keeping it that way.

“Is it making you uncomfortable being here alone with me? ’Cause I can go lock myself in the bedroom.”

“Oddly enough, no—you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Why is that odd?”’

“Because…look at you. You’re huge and hairy, and I don’t even think I’d recognize you if you shaved all that”—she gestures in the general direction of my face—“off.”

She sure as shit wouldn’t recognize me, which is the reason I grew this beard and keep my hair long.

“Do you ever…?”

I need more prompting. “Do I ever what?”

“Shave.”

Obviously. If I didn’t, I’d look like a ZZ Top reject. “Yes, I shave. I shaved this morning.” I run a hand down the length of my beard, satisfied with the wiry hair that took me two years to grow this long.

“No, I mean, like—off. Do you ever shave that off?”

“What’s wrong with it?” I stroke it again for good measure.

“Nothing is wrong with it, Kip. I’m just asking if it’s ever not there.”

“No.”

“Oh.” Pause. “How come?”

“Because I like it?”

“Fair enough.” Her lips purse. “It’s just…you’re a bit young for the Grizzly Adams look.”

“Who the fuck is Grizzly Adams?”

“A mountain man who wrastles grizzlies…basically.”

“Anyway.” I give my eyes a heavy roll to end the conversation, and she follows me up the stairs. I point to a closed door on my left. “Spare room here, bathroom there, but you already know this. Obviously no need to lock the door behind you.”

“Doors got deadbolts?”

I feel myself grinning. “Nope.”

“Well, I’m not worried. I’m less your type than you are mine, I think.”

That’s where she’s wrong—I’m warming to Teddy in ways I shouldn’t be. I’ll be thinking about her long and hard after we’re both locked in our bedrooms tonight.

“Not worried? You’re such a damn liar.”

“How can you tell?”

A scoff leaves my throat. “Because you keep looking for the nearest possible exit.”

“So I shouldn’t climb out a window because we’re on the second story? Got a ladder I can prop against the house?”

“Jesus Christ, don’t even joke about going out a window. Use the damn door if you’re going to escape.”

“But do you blame me? You’re kind of…” She waves a hand around in front of my torso.

“Abnormally large and hairy? Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot.”

“No, I was going to say it’s probably not the smartest idea to be in a strange house, far from campus and my apartment, with a strange guy I just met, especially since we’ve both been drinking and I don’t know anything about you.”

That’s where she’s right. This is a terrible idea.

But here we are.

My lips twitch beneath my scruff. “Just try to get some sleep, Theodora.”

Her soft laugh fades as the guest room door inches closed.

“You too, Kipling.”

Brat.

***

My phone pings in the dark.

Ronnie: Are you still alive?

Me: Go to bed, Veronica.

Ronnie: Ahhh, good. So she hasn’t murdered you. Yet.

Me: This girl is harmless.

Ronnie: What the hell possessed you to bring her home?

Me: Her friends are assholes and ditched her at the house.

Ronnie: So? Why do you even care?

Me: I have no fucking idea. But…

Ronnie: Don’t leave me hanging—it’s two in the morning here and if you’re going to keep me up, make it good. Your niece will be up in three hours and I’m going to look like complete shit tomorrow.

Me: I—Jesus, I can’t believe I’m saying this.

Ronnie: Oh damn, this is going to be good, I can feel it.

Me: You can’t say anything to Mom and Dad. Vault

Ronnie: **rolls eyes** Do I ever tell them anything???

Me: Yes, last year you told them about the public indecency citation.

Ronnie: That wasn’t to get you in trouble! That was to shock them because I wanted to see the look on Mom’s botoxed face! I JUST WANTED TO SEE IF HER FOREHEAD WOULD CREASE WHEN SHE GOT MAD!

Ronnie: It didn’t by the way. So. Hilarious.

Me: Goddammit Veronica…

Ronnie: Okay, okay, I’m listening. Go.

Me: This girl—her name is Teddy

Ronnie: That sounds soooo East Coast, pleated skirt, cardigan-y of her.

Me: Stop.

Ronnie: **zips lip**

Me: She’s been coming to the rugby house every weekend with these bitchy friends of hers, and they keep ditching her, and tonight she didn’t have a place to sleep. Like, I wasn’t going to let her sleep in the hallway of her apartment.

Ronnie: How uncharacteristically chivalrous of you.

Me: So I brought her home and we started talking, and the next thing I fucking knew, I was volunteering to help her out.

Ronnie: Help her out with WHAT??? God, do I even want to know?

Ronnie: Yes, yes I do.

Ronnie: And for the record, I just sat up in bed and turned on the light, and now Stuart is awake and he wants to hear the end of this story too.

Ronnie: BTW, since I woke him up, I owe him a BJ. So he says thanks.

Me: Jesus Christ.

Ronnie: GET ON WITH THE STORY, MY GAWD KIPLING. What are you helping this Teddy person with?

Me: How to date. I told her I’d be her hairy godmother.

Ronnie: You’re kidding me right?

Me: No

[five minutes later]

Me: Are you still there?

Ronnie: I’m sorry, hold on. Stuart and I are laughing so hard we have tears coming out of our eyes.

Ronnie: Hairy godmother? Oh my god, Kip, where do you come up with this shit? Mom would DIE.

Me: You said you weren’t going to say anything!