My back arches on its own. John lays his hand on me to hold me down as he tastes me. He kisses my wetness, tonguing me softly while I struggle to breathe. I moan and pray he’ll give my clit the attention it desperately needs, but the sinister look in his eyes says everything. He’s going to make me wait. Make me squirm. Make me beg.

  “Johnny,” I moan.

  He penetrates me with his tongue. I want it. I need it.

  Please, Johnny.

  With closed eyes, he immerses himself deeper, sucking and nibbling and groaning with me. I run my fingers through his hair, urging him to put me out of my misery.

  “Johnny.”

  He chuckles, victorious. “Yes, Ms. Hawthorne.”

  Finally, he latches his mouth around my clit. I nearly lurch out from under him, but his firm hands hold me down on the couch. My orgasm is quick but brutal, every muscle in my body clenching harder with each delicious taste he takes.

  It passes, but my body continues to throb. John offers some reprieve, kissing the warm skin of my thighs as he gazes at me.

  “Wow,” he says.

  Blood rushes to my cheeks. “What?”

  “You look so beautiful when you come.”

  I reflexively cover my face with my hands. “Okay…”

  “No. No…” He reaches for my wrists, drawing my hands back down. “Don’t do that.” He smiles. “Don’t ever do that.”

  I swoon all over again as he kisses up my body. He reaches my sweater, plucking the buttons open one by one with that sinister glint in his eye.

  “So beautiful,” he whispers.

  I chuckle, clenching his thick hair again and pulling him closer. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have these glorious ti—”

  He buries his face in my cleavage. I laugh even harder.

  John sits on the couch, easily scooping me up and sitting me on his waist. I straddle him, feeling weightless in his embrace. He kisses my collarbone as he pushes my sweater off my shoulders. I’m still so numb, but blooms of pleasure spread across my skin. I lift his shirt, just as eager as he is, but we fall silent as I expose his chest.

  Alpha. Delta. Xi.

  “Rose.” He sits back with a whisper. “We don’t have to—”

  “No,” I say, the words coming easy. “I want to.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I kiss him again. His arms curl around me, and I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that this is the right time.

  The right person.

  “Bedroom?” I ask.

  John laughs as he lifts me up again. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He throws me over his shoulder, and my laugh echoes the entire way down the hall.

  CHAPTER 15

  ROSE

  John drops me onto my bed. I bounce once and lie back on my pillows. He takes something out of his back pocket and tosses it onto the bed beside me; the wrapper reflecting light. A condom.

  He reaches for his belt. His gaze focuses on me as he unzips his jeans and lets them fall.

  I hold my breath.

  Yeah. That’s a penis.

  I swallow hard.

  That’s a huge penis.

  John climbs onto the bed with me. He slides my wet panties down. I lie still, sitting in nothing but a bra and my skirt. He pushes a knee between mine, spreading them apart and positioning himself as he kisses me. I kiss him with wide-open eyes, peeking down at that… massive…

  Fuck, dude.

  Will that even fit?

  “Rose.”

  “Hm?” I snap my eyes up. “What?”

  He grins. “Relax.”

  “I’m relaxed. I’m plenty relaxed. I’m just… curious…”

  “Of…?”

  “Well, your penis.”

  “You’re curious about my penis?” he asks.

  “It’s large.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And I’m quite petite.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “So, I’m curious…”

  I laugh.

  John chuckles. “It won’t hurt,” he says, leaning in for another kiss. “Trust me.”

  “No, I do,” I say against his lips. “I really, really do. I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.”

  John pushes up on his arms, putting a little distance between us. “Rose.”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you like to do it?”

  “Do it?”

  He moves to sit, leaning back against my headboard. “Come here,” he says.

  Confused, I shift around, guided by his hand on my arm. He pulls me closer and I straddle him, leaving a space between us for… well… him.

  John picks up the condom beside us. He tears it open and expertly slides it on. Then he sits back again and nods. “Go ahead,” he says.

  I blink. “Go ahead?”

  “You’re in control here,” he says. “Of you. Of me.” He smiles. “Of it.”

  I peek at it again. “Huh?”

  “Angle of penetration. Speed of stroke. Depth of thrust.” He kisses me softly. “It’s all you, Rose.”

  “You make it sound so science-y.”

  “You’re the scientist, Ms. Hawthorne. Experiment.”

  Experiment. It’s not the first word that comes to mind when I think of sex. On the other hand, that’s what you’re supposed to do at college. Try new things. Find out who you are and what you like. I didn’t do that during my undergraduate years. One unpleasant experience shut me down, and I spent years with my head in a textbook instead.

  No more studying. I’ve read the book. I’ve seen the movie. Tonight, I get to experience it myself.

  I ease upward, inching closer to him. He inhales sharply as I reach between us, my hand touching his shaft for the first time. I watch his expression, full of affection and patience, waiting for the look of impatience to strike, but it doesn’t. He really is letting me take control.

  I align us together, but pause as I feel his large girth against my entrance.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispers, his lips brushing mine. “It’ll fit.”

  I breathe a laugh. I’m embarrassed, but the pink in my cheeks doesn’t last long. He said he wouldn’t hurt me. I trust him now more than ever.

  Another kiss. Another rush of heat throughout my core.

  I slowly lower myself on him. John grips my waist to help me move. His tip parts my folds, easily slipping into my wetness. I tighten as a stab of discomfort rises. I hesitate to go further.

  “It’s okay,” he says, holding back a groan. “I’ll walk you through it. Just go slow.”

  I breathe deep, soothing every muscle in my core. He slips in a little more. I pull back. John flexes his jaw with passion in his stare. I lower again. I’m wet, still so wet from before. I kiss him as I hover up and down, feeling the same few inches over and over again.

  John keeps his hands on my hips to hold me steady, but he doesn’t move otherwise. He likes me using him in this way, I can tell. If the soft grunts and deep groans weren’t enough, it’s the playfulness in his smile. The pride in his eyes. He wants this as much as I do. Perhaps more.

  “I want to make you come on this cock so bad, Rose,” he says. “Tell me what you want.”

  I laugh. I relax. I let him go deeper and we both gasp. “I want more,” I say.

  “Take it.”

  John kisses me. I cup his face, overwhelmed with urges I’ve never felt before. Each movement fills me in a new way.

  I go to take him deeper, but we can’t get closer. I look down. He’s all the way inside.

  “You’re so deep,” I say, feeling it.

  John rests his head back, breathing hard.

  “What do I do now?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “What do you want to do?”

  “Well, that coming on your cock thing sounded good.”

  John chuckles as he licks the pad of his thumb. “Lean back,” he says. “Put your hands on my knees.”

  I do as he says, arching my back and propping myself up. “Like this?” I ask.

  He nods. “Now grind.”

  “Grind?”

  “Yeah.”

  “On what?”

  He slips his hand between us and presses his thumb against my clit.

  I gasp. “Oh…”

  “Uh-huh.” He holds my hip with his other hand. “Move forward and back. You’ll know what feels good.”

  I sway my body slowly. John keeps his thumb pressed hard against my clit, somehow knowing exactly where to rub it. His cock glides in me as I move, remaining so deep inside. I feel it everywhere. I chase sensations, moving this way and that until I find just the right…

  I whimper.

  “Good girl,” John growls in my ear. “Don’t stop. You’re so fucking hot.”

  I repeat the movement and a lightning bolt fires through me. “Oh, god…”

  “You like it deep, don’t you, Rose?”

  I nod, too focused to speak.

  He kisses my neck. I swoon harder against him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

  I moan as my thighs tremble. My body feels so sore, but I don’t want to stop. “Johnny,” I whisper.

  “Do you want me to fuck you, Rose?” he asks, sensing my weak limbs. “Make you come?”

  “Yes,” I say, barely.

  John embraces me with both arms, quickly lurching forward and tossing me onto my back. I gasp in surprise as he spreads my knees apart again. This time, I watch with glee as he takes hold of his cock and slips it inside of me. I’m so close. Ecstasy feels so close, yet so far away. I want to come. I need to come. And John’s determined to make it happen.

  He fucks me hard. Fast. He grinds me in all the right places, my clit constantly under assault as he thrusts. I clench and burn, my body turning to jelly beneath him.

  “Johnny,” I moan.

  Climax takes me by surprise. I’ve had an orgasm before — provided by me, myself, and I — but they’ve never been this intense. It starts deep, wave upon wave of pleasure breaking inside of me, spreading across my skin. My back arches and my toes curl. I smother myself against his shoulder, my nails digging into his back, but John doesn’t complain.

  He stays inside of me as it passes, still so hard. I feel everything inside, the way my pussy throbs and his cock pulsates.

  I swallow hard, catching my breath. “Did you…?” I ask.

  John chuckles, his lips soft on my cheek. “No,” he says, kissing the edge of my mouth.

  “Oh.” I furrow my brow. “Sorry. Did I do it wrong?”

  “No, Rose.” He smiles. “You’re doing it very, very right.” He pushes up on his hands. “I’m just not done with you yet.”

  John thrusts home and I moan all over again.

  CHAPTER 16

  JOHN

  “Are you okay?”

  Rose laughs, and for a moment, it’s like the world stops turning. Everything pauses, from the wind in the trees outside to the beating heart in my chest. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before and I’m honestly terrified that I’ll never feel it ever again.

  “I’m okay,” she answers.

  “I didn’t hurt you?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No. It was fine.”

  “Just fine?”

  “Great,” she says. “It was great.”

  “Good.”

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “Oh, I’m great.” I grin, staring at her with my head balanced on my hand. “Just catching my breath.”

  She chuckles and adjusts the pillow beneath her chin. “Good.”

  I scan the room, getting the chance to take a good look for the first time. She lives alone, that much is obvious. I doubt we would have fucked so rambunctiously with the door open if she feared a roommate barging in at any moment.

  There’s a photograph on her bedside table next to her glasses. It’s a novelty frame with large footballs on each corner. The photo itself is of her and a girl who looks exactly like her standing together at a stadium surrounded by red and orange colors.

  “What’s that?” I ask, pointing at it.

  She cranes her neck to look behind her. “The picture?”

  “Yeah.”

  She grabs it and hands it over to me with a smile. “That’s me and my sister at Arrowhead Stadium last year.”

  I blink, taking a long look at her in the photo. Grinning. Happy. “You know, I thought you were just full of pep and school spirit before, but you really like football, don’t you?”

  “Doesn’t everybody?” She chuckles. “Well, except Daisy. She’s more into baseball.”

  “Rose…” I grin, “and Daisy?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I know. You think that’s bad, you should hear my middle name.”

  My smile grows. “What’s your middle name?”

  A beat of hesitation, then, “Darling.”

  “Your name… is Rose Darling Hawthorne?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were your parents expecting poodles?”

  She laughs. “Possibly. I don’t know. It’s our mother’s maiden name. Daisy got it, too.”

  I take another look around and her world comes into even greater focus. More framed pictures sit around, most of them of her and her sister with face paint on their cheeks at various sporting events. Team pendants hang on the wall by the window, mostly the Bearhawks but a few pro teams. Stuffed toys of mascots sit on a chair in the corner. I’m not sure how I missed it earlier, but then again, my focus is more or less locked on the lady when I’m between her knees.

  I turn to her. “You really like football.”

  She blushes. “Yeah. I, uh…”

  “What?”

  “I got kind of… excited when I saw your name on Dr. Zach’s class list.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  I shake my head. “So, when I spoke to you after class that first day, you were actually—”

  “Completely fucking freaking out inside? Yeah.”

  Holy shit.

  We both laugh. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me,” I say.

  She shrugs. “I can’t have anything to do with you, technically.”

  I admire her pink cheeks for a few moments, letting it all sink in.

  “What?” she asks.

  “I never would have guessed. I’ve been a Bearhawk for three years, and you were there for every game.”

  “Every single home game. Especially last year. Cary Pierce was the coach. I nearly had a heart attack when I found out.”

  “Me, too.”

  “What was it like?” she asks, her eyes growing wider. “Having him for a coach?”

  “Amazing. We’re still running the same drills he taught us. The guy was a genius.”

  “He had to have been to turn the team around like that. I’ve gone to every home game here since I was a freshman and I never saw the team do that well.”

  “Did you meet him while he was here?”

  “Hell yes! Just once, though.” She points to a shelf behind me across the room. “I got him to sign that ball for me after the Homecoming game last year.”

  I glance over my shoulder at the bright metallic signature scribbled across the pigskin.

  Turns out, Rose Hawthorne is even better than I thought she was. I just expected her to be some cutesy science nerd. Not that she isn’t. She definitely is, but I didn’t expect her to be a big football fan, too. I wasn’t even sure that hybrid existed in a girl.

  She’s still grinning at me when I turn back and it fires warmth all the way through my toes. “You’re really fucking cool, Rose.”

  She laughs. “Thank you.”

  My gut lurches, struck down by a feeling completely new and oddly scary. I sit still, hoping it’ll pass, but it lingers in me like a virus taking hold of my system.

  This is guilt. I feel guilty.

  I never feel guilty but laying across from her now, covered in her sweat, I feel like dog shit.

  Because she’s just part of my trifecta.

  One down. Two to go.

  The bedsheet slides off her breasts as she leans in to kiss me. I lay a hand on the small of her back, pulling her in to feel those soft tits press hard against my chest. She rolls on top of me, and my groin surges with blood again.

  She chortles, looking down. “Oh. Nuh-uh.”

  “What?” I ask with a laugh.

  “There’s no way you’re ready to go again.”

  “I might be.”

  “I know I’m inexperienced, but I recall from health class that men have a refractory period.”

  “Mine is short,” I say.

  “Short, eh?” she teases.

  “Not my dick.” I cup her ass, giving her a loving squeeze and grinding her against my erection pressed between us. “My refractory period.”

  “You are a healthy young man, I suppose,” she says with a sigh.

  “And you are very loquacious after sex.”

  She raises a brow. “Loquacious?”

  “It means chatty.”

  “I know what it means. I just like hearing you say it.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I squeeze her again. “You like hearing a big dumb jock say big tough words?”

  She bites her lip. “Say another one.”

  “Emphatically.”

  “More.”

  “Infinitesimal.”

  “Are you trying to turn me on?” she asks.

  “Indubitably.”

  Rose grabs a pillow to smother me with. I block the attack and toss the pillow away before wrapping my arms around her again. We kiss, blocking out the rest of the world. I massage her tongue with mine, tasting every moan as she squirms on me.

  She reaches down, wrapping her little fingers around my cock, and my breath catches. The little scientist, so full of curiosity.

  I groan, a few tight strokes nearly sending me over the edge, but I only brought one condom.

  Idiot.

  But I ain’t going home yet.

  I run my thumb over her bottom lip. “Rose,” I whisper.

  She hums in response, her lips parting. I slide my thumb between them, so wet and warm.

  “Would it be too far if I asked for your mouth?” I ask.

  Rose inhales sharply, but the playfulness never leaves her eyes. “No,” she says.