Palm South University: Season 2 Box Set Read online

  And she is so. Fucking. Tight.

  “Oh God,” she cries, digging her nails into my back. With any other girl, I’d pull out my usual line — Nope, just me, babe. But with Shawna, I have no words. I literally can’t say a fucking thing because I’m focusing too hard on not busting after being inside her for less than thirty seconds.

  But I hold out, adjusting my rhythm to please her without granting myself the same gratification — not just yet. And then, I give her round two.

  And three.

  And just for the hell of it, four.

  “I’M JUST SAYING, YOU’RE NOT LIVING if you’ve never tried a finger in the ass before,” Jess says with a shrug, not the least bit ashamed, just as I reach the small table in the middle of our campus coffee shop.

  I blink, dropping my bag into the only open chair. “Well, conversation at Joe’s has certainly progressed.”

  Jess smirks, waggling her eyebrows at Ashlei who just shakes her head. I try to fight back my own smile, but give up when Jess starts fingering her donut.

  “Gross, J-Love!” Erin tosses her napkin and it hits Jess square in the nose, but she just laughs and keeps violating her pastry.

  Cup O’ Joe’s is a small coffee house, dimly lit and walls peppered with local student art. The open roof and piping paired with the wood and rustic furniture give it a modern, hip vibe. It’s one of my favorite places on campus to study, and I talked the girls into meeting for coffee this morning before my second class. Spring semester has already kicked off and we had yet to all be together outside of sisterhood functions, so I wanted us to make time to catch up.

  Jess demonstrating anal on a glazed donut wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

  “I think I’m with Jess on this one,” Skyler chimes in. “I mean, I’m not saying it needs to get crazy. Just a little boop, you know what I mean?” Skyler and Bo crack up laughing while Erin covers her face with her hands. Ashlei smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her soft brown eyes. She seems off.

  “I’m grabbing coffee. Anyone need a refill?”

  They all shake their heads, holding up full cups. Retrieving my wallet from my Vera Bradley messenger bag, I take my place in line, scanning the menu.

  It feels kind of strange being back at Palm South, especially after how my first semester ended. I shift at the thought of Clay and Paris, but shake it off quickly. Winter Break was my time to regroup. I opened up to my older sister about what happened – everything from losing my best friend to losing my v-card to a complete douchebag. Surprisingly, she had some pretty great advice. The best piece being that, at least for freshman year, I should just avoid boys in general and focus on myself.

  So that’s exactly what I’m doing.

  No boys, no drama — that’s the way it works. And I am more than looking forward to being drama-free.

  “Excuse me,” a smooth voice says over my shoulder. I turn in place, swallowing when I see the exotic creature the voice belongs to. “Just going out on a limb here, but are you by chance a caramel latte girl?”

  My mouth is so dry. Why can’t I swallow? Is it hot in here? Oh God, I hope I’m not sweating.

  I’m totally sweating.

  Of course, this creature picks the semester I choose to be boy-free to waltz up behind me in line at the coffee shop. His long chestnut hair is pulled back into a messy bun, giving me full access to stare into his glorious blue eyes. They’re peppered with flecks of gold, and I’m sure he’s some sort of god. He’s just standing there, crooked smile beneath his beard, tattoos lining the muscles of his right forearm like a warning sign to the mortals. The way the sun is streaming through the tinted windows of the coffee shop illuminate him in a way that lets me know I’d be cursed if I touched him.

  Probably dead if he touched me.

  He clears his throat, cocking one brow. “Is that a no, or did I forget to put pants on again?” He chuckles, but I squeeze my eyes tight.

  Do NOT think about him without pants on, Cassie.

  “Sorry. I, uh, no.” I shake my head, nervously reaching for a strand of my fiery red hair to twirl. “I mean, yes, I like caramel lattes, but no, you can’t buy me one.”

  “Good thing I didn’t buy these.” He holds up the two cups in his hands.

  I’m confused.

  “I work here,” he says, gesturing to the small stage on the book store side of the shop. A lone guitar is propped up against a tall metal bar stool and I stare at it a moment, blink, and then find his eyes again.

  Of course he plays guitar. Of course he does.

  “They give me a free drink when I play, and they accidentally made two cups. So, I have this extra one, and I figured it’d be better served in the hands of a pretty girl than getting cold at my feet while I play.” He smiles, this time showing a row of beautiful teeth that make me forget how to breathe.

  “Well, I appreciate it, but I can’t take your coffee.”

  He frowns. “Why not?”

  “Because you’re a boy.”

  “That is a fact,” he says with a soft laugh. It’s a soothing sound, the sort of laugh that makes me feel like I can trust him.

  I blush just as the girl in front of me leaves the counter and it’s my turn to order. “Exactly. So, thanks, but no thanks.” I offer one last smile before turning to place my order. I still feel him behind me, his godliness just radiating off of him, but I don’t dare turn around. He finally chuckles, and I feel him leave, which allows me to finally release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  I quickly pay for my order and rejoin the girls at the table.

  “So, Skyler became famous over break, Jess watched a lot of porn, Bo ate shit trying to figure out how to ski and I suffered through a stomach flu in Europe, which wasn’t half as bad as suffering through my mother when I got back home,” Erin summarizes, lazily dunking the tea bag in her large beige coffee cup. “Ashlei, Cassie, you’re the only ones left. What’d you do over break?”

  Ashlei’s chewing her straw, avoiding all eye contact. She looks tired, and I notice dark circles under her eyes that weren’t there before break. I’m not that close with Ashlei, but even I know there’s something she’s not telling us.

  “I just worked.”

  “Worked?” Jess asks, pausing with her cup halfway lifted to her mouth. “What are you talking about? You don’t have a job.”

  “Well I had one over break,” Ashlei spits back. She’s definitely sassy today.

  “Doing what?” Jess challenges.

  “Bartending.”

  “Bartending,” Jess repeats flatly.

  “Well, I swore off boys forever,” I chime in, trying to take the heat off Ashlei. She gives me a thank you smile, but Jess is still eying her. “Or at least, for the rest of freshman year.”

  “I like that idea,” Erin says with a smile. “Maybe I’ll join you in that initiative, G-Little.”

  “Speaking of boys, how weird is it that I have a boyfriend?” Skyler asks, sucking the last of her iced coffee drink dry and shaking the ice in her cup.

  “Super fucking weird,” Jess replies quickly. Skyler laughs. My stomach turns.

  “Sorry to interrupt, ladies.” I hear the voice and I don’t even have to turn around to know who’s standing behind me again, especially when every jaw at the table drops. “I just had to come over because, well, because your friend here has completely shattered my confidence.”

  I turn slowly, my eyes trailing up his god-like body until I meet his own blue pools. He bends down on one knee, bringing us face to face.

  “You see, I didn’t actually get that coffee for free, I bought it when I saw you walk through that door over there.” He points, but no one’s eyes move from his face. Rubbing his hand over his beard, he shrugs. “I had no idea what kind of coffee you drank, but I figured it didn’t matter — I just wanted to talk to you.” Someone sighs. My money’s on Erin. “But then you totally shot me down, and at first I was going to let it go, but my mom raised me to always go after wh
at I want and never stop fighting for it. And what I want right now is your phone number.”

  This is not happening.

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, he holds it out for me to take, his eyes still fixed on mine. “Well, your phone number and your name.”

  “Her name is Cassie,” Skyler says quickly and he chuckles, that same smooth sound giving me chills.

  “Cassie,” he tries it on, testing how it feels on his lips. “What do you say? Make my mom proud and give me your number?”

  “Oh my God, give me,” Erin says, snatching his phone from his hands. She types out what I can only assume is my number and hands it back to him. “Thank me later, baby G.”

  I try not to laugh, but fail miserably. He smiles in triumph.

  “Well, I guess you can live to be a momma’s boy another day…” I trail off, waiting for him to tell me his name.

  “Grayson,” he says, holding the hand sans-phone out to me. My eyes trail the tattoos. “Grayson Anderson.”

  Yep, even his name is one of a god.

  “Cassie McBee,” I reply, tentatively taking his hand. He lifts it to his bearded mouth and kisses it softly.

  I’m really trying not to swoon, I swear.

  “See you around, Cassie McBee.” He stands with a wink and a half-wave to the rest of the girls before making his way back to the stage. I stare long enough to watch him strap on his guitar before turning back around.

  And everyone is staring at me with a shit-eating grin.

  “I hate you all.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jess offers through a laugh, throwing her hands up. “The no-boy rule doesn’t apply to boys like that.”

  “Neither does the three-dates-before-he-scores rule,” my Big adds.

  “Little!” Erin chastises Skyler, but we all laugh regardless.

  My eyes find Grayson across the room just as he begins strumming out a soft acoustic tune. He smiles, one strand of his hair falling from the bun he’s haphazardly tied at the back of his head. Each strum of the guitar calls attention to the muscles in his arms and I allow myself to stare for just a moment longer before snapping my attention back to the girls.

  They’re all staring, too.

  Well, so much for that plan.

  I THINK I’M IN HEAVEN.

  My feet are propped up on the dash of Jarrett’s truck, Trey Songz is on the stereo, we’ve almost finished off a joint and I know in less than ten minutes, I’ll have his glorious cock inside me.

  Like I said, heaven.

  Pinching what’s left of the joint between my finger and thumb, I inhale long and hard, holding it in as I pass it back to Jarrett. His lids already low, he takes one last hit before extinguishing it in a half-empty bottle of Gatorade. I can’t remember the last time I got high, but I know for a fact that it never felt this good. Maybe it’s because Jarrett has better weed, or maybe it’s just because Jarrett is involved — period.

  With all the windows up, the smoke clouds around us, circling in new designs each time one of us breathes. Jarrett is watching me closely from the driver’s seat, his eyes still hooded, his teeth just barely tugging on the flesh of his lower lip. Being away from him all break almost made me forget how fucking beautiful he is. Dark eyes, tattoos lining his arms, thick erection straining against his basketball shorts. I’ve never wanted him more.

  “So now that you know about my boring ass Winter Break, what did you do?”

  Jarrett smiles lazily. “Same old. Worked at the bar and surfed when the waves were big enough. I did spend some time with Spencer, too.”

  “Surfing buddy?”

  “Kind of. She’s trying to learn, but she’s pretty new to Florida so it’s like trying to teach a ten-year-old. She’s getting better though.”

  I stiffen when I realize Spencer is a she, not a he. My mouth dry, I reach for my water bottle and try desperately to calm my racing heart. We’re not exclusive, I told him I didn’t want to title it, but he also said he didn’t want to fuck anyone else. He didn’t want me to fuck anyone else. And I haven’t.

  “Oh. Well, I’m sure she’ll be just fine with you as her teacher.” I try not to sound bitter, but I know I completely fail. I clear my throat, looking out my window at the soft waves crashing on the dark beach. When Jarrett’s rough hand slides over my thigh and grips me gently at the knee, I chance a look in his direction.

  One brow cocked, Jarrett looks amused — pleased, almost. Asshole.

  “Are you jealous, Jess?”

  I scoff. “No. Why would I be?”

  He clicks his tongue, shaking that gorgeous head of his. “Shame. I was really hoping you were jealous.”

  “You’re an ass!” I smack him across the chest but he grabs my wrist with his hand, pulling me over the console to straddle him. As soon as my knees settle on either side of him, he bucks his hips up, stealing my breath with the feel of him against me.

  “She’s the bar owner’s daughter, and I’m not the least bit interested in her.” Sliding both hands down my arms, he grips my ass firmly and rocks me against him, the friction making my eyes flutter. “You’re the one I want, Jess. The only one I want.”

  My eyes are wide, my mouth just slightly open as I stare at him through the smoky darkness. I feel my heart tug, a sensation I’m far from used to. When Jarrett says shit like that, it makes me want to call him my boyfriend.

  And I don’t do boyfriends.

  Not anymore.

  “Good,” I breathe. “Because I want you, too.”

  “Yeah?” Jarrett asks, tucking his hands into the back pockets of my jean shorts. He drags me up against the length of him, building the friction. “What do you want to do to me?”

  Licking my lips, I lean in closer, biting his neck with more pressure than I intended. He hisses through his teeth as I softly kiss the same spot. “I want to ride you,” I breathe against his skin, kissing his Adam’s apple next. “I want to make you come with my name on your lips.” Another bite on the other side of his neck. His hands move to my waist and he grips me hard. “And then,” I whisper, dragging my tongue up his neck before pulling his earlobe between my teeth. “I want to take you to pizza.”

  Jarrett bursts out laughing as I sit back on his lap, waggling my eyebrows. The weed has settled in my blood, making me feel almost as high as Jarrett’s touch makes me feel.

  “God,” he pants, still smiling. “That is the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  “Did I mention there’d be… garlic knots?” I breathe the words in a sultry manner, biting my lower lip.

  Jarrett groans. “Keep talking, baby.”

  I drag my hands down his chiseled abdomen before tucking one beneath the band of his shorts and palming his erection through the silky fabric with the other. “And,” I continue, rolling my hips in time with my hand on him. “You can get whatever. Toppings. You. Want.”

  “Fuck,” Jarrett growls. His hand flies to the side of his seat, reclining us back in an instant. He lifts me effortlessly, tossing me in the back and quickly following. Settling between my legs, he kisses me hard. “I think I just came.”

  “Better not have.”

  He smirks, but then his lips claim my own again and I no longer feel like joking. His hands are in my hair, pulling, tangling. His lips are on my neck, my collarbone, the swell of my breast. I arch my back and his hand finds the zipper of my shorts, tugging it down. His fingers snake beneath the harsh fabric of my jeans and he rubs me over the lace of my thong.

  “Jesus Christ,” he breathes, his forehead against mine. I can feel how wet my thong is and I know that’s what he’s noticing, too.

  Pushing himself off the seat, he grips his shirt at the back of his neck and pulls it up and over his head. I follow suit, maneuvering out of my tank top and bra. Leaning up, I run my fingers down the middle ridge of his chest and abdomen before tucking my fingers in the band of his shorts. I push them down over his ass, his erection springing free. Taking him in my hand, I lift my eyes to his and lick
my lips. His eyes are heavy, hooded with lust and a high I know I’m not experiencing alone. When I close my lips around his tip, he drops his head back, running his hands over the bald surface.

  I grab his ass in my hands and pull him deeper into my mouth. He growls when he hits the back of my throat and I instantly grow wetter. Letting him take control, I reach up for his hands and move them to my hair, keeping my hands clasped over his. He’s gentle at first, careful not to hurt me, but as his breathing shallows and his desperation grows, his hands fist in my hair. Opening my throat for him, he pulls me all the way down, my lips touching his base as I gag slightly.

  “I fucking love that,” he breathes, trying his best to slowly move in my mouth. When I gag again, he curses, pulling me back and grabbing my shorts at my hips. I lean back and arch up long enough for him to peel them off of me. A condom wrapper is ripped, he quickly rolls it over himself, and then he’s between my legs, his tip at my entrance, his lips hard on mine.

  Wrapping my legs around his waist, I use my heels to push into his backside, closing the distance between us. He fills me quickly and all at once. My breath catches and he groans as I drag my nails down his back.

  Jarrett pumps slow and calculated, moving us in time with the slow R&B music crooning through the speakers of his truck. The closer we get, the faster we move. When he leans back on his heels, moving his thumb to circle my clit as he pounds into me, I moan in ecstasy. I’m close, so fucking close.

  But then, Jarrett stops.

  “Don’t stop,” I moan, wrapping my legs around him tighter.

  “I need to hear you say it first.”

  I open my heavy lids, peeking at him through the smoky darkness of the truck. Or is that steam? Maybe both.

  “I want you,” I breathe, squirming beneath him.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  I groan. “Then what?”

  He smirks, his dark eyes ablaze. “You were jealous.”

  I’m panting so loud. “What?”

  “You were jealous.”