King of Campus - Page 144

Thankfully she's stopped all that stupid baby talk and is whispering things that are better left unsaid in a public forum such as this. Giving in, because I'm not made of stone after all (well, maybe one part of me is) I finally wrap my arms around her. I feel the smile of satisfaction curve her lips upward as she continues licking and nipping at my mouth.

Ahhh, that feels so good.

"Are you ready to get out of here, Parker? Because I am."

For some reason my eyes stray one last time to the front door before returning to Marissa.

I’m not going to lie, this has kind of been a weird night for me. So, yeah, I'm definitely ready to go.

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Chapter One

Shaking my head, I watch as my roommate, Brooklyn, busts out all her best moves on the makeshift dance floor. She’s the tall blonde dancing with her hands twisting in the air almost as if she’s doing a very sad Stevie Nicks impersonation.

I almost wince.

Yeah… it’s that bad.

If I had to guess, I would say that Brooklyn isn’t feeling the slightest bit of pain at the moment. I’m sure the liquid refreshment currently on tap is to be thanked for that. I’m hoping tomorrow will be a completely different story. She deserves the hangover-to-end-all-hangovers for dragging me to this God awful excuse to drink beer, get rowdy, and troll for a hook up or two.

My plan for the remainder of this evening consists of staying inconspicuously tucked away in the back corner and sipping my tepid diet soda because being a girl and walking around a drunken fraternity party is apparently an unofficial invitation to have your ass groped by some random dude. Or should I say random dudes because this has now happened twice. And a third time will very likely push me right over the edge of my douchebag tolerance limit for the evening.

The objective tonight is to keep an eye on Brooklyn and when the clock strikes twelve, drag her ass out of here… and I’m totally okay if it’s kicking and screaming. Impatiently I glance at my cell phone for probably the twentieth time in the last two hours.

It’s only eleven.

This has officially become painful.

I’m unfortunately snapped out of my dark thoughts on just how I will torture Brooklyn when a stray hand slides its way across my jean covered butt.

Seriously?

Even though I try to control it, my heartbeat hitches for just a moment before I spin around with tightened fists, ready to knock some unsuspecting jerk senseless.

“Excuse me,” I all but snarl through tightly clenched teeth, “get your damn hand off my ass before I break every single bone in your fingers!” And contrary to what you might think, it’s not an idle threat. I’ll do it. As I turn, my eyes slam into probably the widest, burliest chest I’ve ever had the sad misfortune to inspect this up close and personal.

A sigh of disgust leaves my downturned lips before I can rein it back in.

Perfect.

Very slowly I crane my neck up, up, up until I’m finally able to glare into his eyes. The freakishly large oaf now standing in front of me has the audacity to smile lazily, his gaze happily blurred. “Hey sexy, want to dance?”

The guy barely looks able to stand up straight let alone move his gargantuan body out on the dance floor. If he goes down, it’ll be like a massive tree falling. And I don’t even want to think about the huge mark he’ll inevitably leave on his potential dance victim.

My brows draw together in aggravation before I quickly shake my head. “No, I don’t want to dance. What I’d actually like is for you to remove your hand from my ass.”

Because, believe it or not, it’s still there.

He actually has the nerve to widen his grin before squeezing my butt cheek in that massive paw of his. My eyes flare wide with shock and I think steam pours out of my ears.

Oh hell no- that did not just happen.

Wiping the disgust from my face, I give him my best come hither smile. Just because I never use these kinds of tactics doesn’t mean I don’t know how. His already dilated eyes widen like he’s just hit the jackpot. Stepping a bit closer to the big knuckle dragging Neanderthal, I crook my finger kind of all sexy-like until he bends down. When our lips are close enough to touch, I drag my mouth to his ear. Then, before I can utter a single word, I clamp my fingers around his balls (which are, in case you’re wondering, oversized just like the rest of him) in what I seriously hope is a death grip. Just for good measure, I give them a little twist. He hisses out a breath in response.

Now that I have his undivided attention, I growl, “If you don’t get your damn hand off my ass immediately, I will continue squeezing until something pops. Do I make myself clear?”

Tags: Jennifer Sucevic Billionaire Romance
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