King of Campus

By: Jennifer Sucevic



This has my face coloring. “My name isn’t coffee girl,” I finally ground out.

Revealing bright white teeth, he leisurely pushes away from the brick wall he was leaning against. That’s when I notice him turn towards the thick crowd surrounding him.

How did I not notice the huge group he’s standing in the midst of? And it’s not just girls who make up his fan club either, but guys as well. This dude definitely has the strangest effect on me. I don’t like it at all. I’m not used to feeling so tongue tied and awkward.

I’m really not.

What he says to them, I have no idea. I see his lips moving and then the crowd reluctantly disperses before he closes the distance separating us. The way he carries his powerful body has all the saliva in my mouth instantly drying. He’s just so big and muscular. So unexpectedly graceful. I wish I didn’t appreciate the beautiful lines of his sharply defined body but I can’t seem to help myself. As he jogs towards me, shards of inky colored hair fall over those brightly sparkling eyes. When he’s about two feet from me, he finally slows to a stop before flicking a jet black chunk of hair out of the way.

The look he aims in my direction is so well honed I nearly gasp.

Oh… this guy is completely dangerous. And he’s clearly aware of the effect he has on the opposite sex.

That’s for damn sure.

Thankfully it’s enough of a slap in the face to have me straightening my spine all the while trying to wrestle my traitorous hormones into submission. Which is no easy task when faced with…well… him.

His gaze holds mine for a long silent moment. It’s almost as if his eyes are caressing mine. Which is completely ridiculous, I know. But still, that’s exactly the way it feels. My heart stutters in response to all that sexiness packaged up so prettily right in front of me.

Cocking his head to the side, it’s as if he’s waiting for me to give him an answer. But I don’t think he’s asked a question. God, I hope he hasn’t asked a question and I’ve been too busy drooling to realize it.

“So what’s your name if it’s not coffee girl?”

I glance pointedly at the growing group of girls who are avidly watching our exchange before my gaze arrows right back to his. For just a moment, I feel like Alice in Wonderland tumbling down the rabbit hole. My belly even dips as if I’m truly falling.

How is that even possible?

“Does it really matter?” Okay. Good. That came out just cool enough to sound unaffected. Even though I am totally and unequivocally affected.

Following my gaze, another devastating smile slides its way across his handsome face before he shrugs those powerful shoulders basically telling me that- no, it really doesn’t. Instead he steps just a bit closer, invading my personal space until my heart is slamming almost painfully against my chest.

Those beautiful eyes of his continue holding mine, ensnaring them really. Like he’s capable of some kind of crazy voodoo magic. “I have two hours to kill until my next class, why don’t we head back to your place for a bit.”

Head back to my place?

Two hours to kill?

Wait just a minute…

Because that sounds suspiciously like he’s asking me to-

My spine stiffens so quickly it’s as if someone has just rammed a massive pole up my ass.

I’m pretty sure my eyes flare open to the point of popping right out of my head. “Are you actually suggesting we go back to my place for a few hours and have,” I pause as my voice lowers, because there are after all, about a dozen people watching our exchange, “sex?”

Those lovely bow shaped lips of his lift into a knowing smile. “Yeah, babe, I am.” Then his eyes meander their way down my body. I can all but feel them licking over every single inch of me. On their slow perusal back up to my face, they stop at my chest.

My incredibly flat chest.

I think my nipples just tightened under the intense scrutiny of those turquoise hued eyes. I’m seriously cursing myself for not bothering with a padded bra this morning. Instead, I’m wearing a sports bra because it’s so damn comfortable.

Thankfully he hasn’t made any noises that would lead me to believe I have the dreaded headlight effect going on, so maybe it’s not as bad as I’m imagining it to be. And there’s certainly no way I can glance down and see for myself because that would only draw attention to my nips. Instead I keep my eyes focused steadily on his face.

Again he tilts his head just a bit to the side before admitting, “I usually like a girl with a little more going on upstairs, but you’ll do.”

Outrage slams through me, making me gasp.

I have never, and I do mean never, had anyone talk to me like this before.

With my nails digging into my clenched fists, I take a step closer to him. My narrowed eyes feel as if they’re blazing fire, as if they could burn him alive with one single look. Unable to control myself, I stab a finger at that gorgeous, rock solid chest of his.

Gritting my teeth, I hiss, “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit. But don’t you ever talk to me like that again! You’ve apparently mistaken me for one of the groupie sluts you’re used to screwing anytime you please. Make no mistake, asshole, that’s not me.”

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