On a Tuesday (One Week 1)

“Not if I sleep with him first.”

She and her friend laughed louder, and I replayed every word that brunette said to me earlier. I mentally rewound all the recent moments I’d spent with Grayson in cafes and diners, how the stares and jealous glares in my direction always followed. His smile always helped me to ignore them, but after watching at least twenty girls walk up to him tonight and rub his shoulder or offer a “congratulations on being undefeated” hug that was a little too long, I realized that maybe that brunette had a point.

A misguided point, but a point nonetheless.

I downed the rest of my beer and pushed my way through the crowd, walking into Grayson’s bedroom. I shut the door and checked the pickup times for the next Safe Rider shuttle. Then I sent Grayson a text.

ME: I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to head home. (I’ll make this up to you later, I promise.)

I typed in my dorm address as the “drop off” location in the Safe Rider app, but before I could hit “request ride,” Grayson walked into the room and lifted my phone from my hands. He slipped it into his pocket and locked the door.

“You told me nothing was wrong with you,” he said. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Bullshit, Charlotte.” He looked into my eyes. “Tell me right now.”

“Before you picked me up at my dorm tonight, one of your ex-girlfriends approached me.”

“I don’t have any ex-girlfriends.”

“She seems to think differently then.”

“I see.” He clenched his jaw. “What did she say to you?”

“Nothing concrete, she just put everything in perspective.”

“Tell me what she said, Charlotte.” He looked livid, but his voice was calm.

“She said that you’re putting on an act, that you’ll never really claim me and that everything we’re currently doing—the secret kisses, private meetings, and late night talks on the phone are part of your usual game and will eventually lead to disastrous results,” I said. “I brushed it off, but when I got here and had to listen to a few of your fangirls talk about how determined they are to have sex with you before you get drafted, I realized she had a point. So, as much as I do really like you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to deal with—”

“Stop.” He pressed his finger against my lips. “We’re going to put an end to this right now.” He walked me over to a chair, but he didn’t let me sit. Instead, he kept the chair for himself and clasped my hands—pulling me between his legs.

“First things first,” he said, “you’re the one who insists on kissing in secret and shit like we’re not adults. I’ve told you every day for the past couple weeks that we’re beyond friends at this point, that I want to date you, but you always deflect or act like you don’t hear me. Second, I have no interest in doing anything with anyone on this campus but you, so a couple random girls saying that they want to sleep with me shouldn’t get under your skin at all.”

“I just don’t think you understand how popular you are sometimes.”

“No, I know exactly how popular I am.” A cocky smile formed on his lips, and he pulled me closer so my knees were touching the chair cushion. “It’s flattering, but it’s also fake as hell. I can’t control how the other people on campus act toward us, but I would appreciate it if you start telling me the truth about things as they happen so I can fix it before you start looking for excuses to break up with me.”

“We would have to be in an actual relationship to break up.”

He ignored my comment and dropped my hands. “I also need you to accept that I’m not going anywhere.” He caressed my thighs. “You’re wasting your time looking for reasons to make me see things differently.”

“Grayson, I’m not trying to—” I lost my train of thought as he suddenly pushed my panties to the side and tapped his finger against my pussy.

“I’m not trying to finish this conversation right now either.” He smirked. “We can address it once I get done with you.” He moved from the chair and slid down to the floor, looking up at me. “Put your pussy on my face.”

“What?” I blushed.

“You heard me.” He caressed my right thigh. “Put your pussy on my face.”

I remained still, completely frozen.

Letting out a low laugh, he gently lifted my left foot and placed it on the chair. Then he gripped my thighs to hold me steady.

Without any warning, he sucked my swollen clit into his mouth—forcing me to fist his hair. I bit my lip as he flicked his tongue against my pussy repeatedly, as he rendered me powerless.

Kissing my pussy like he was kissing my mouth, he darted his tongue deeper and deeper, not giving me a chance to control the tempo.