I pounded away from my pain-in-the ass cousin, shoulders bunched with tension at her questioning, and marched through the doors of the back room.
Looking up through the thick crowd, the first thing I noticed was a long line of pledges decked out in tight togas and opposite them, a line of football players, most sporting hard-ons as they waited their turn to kiss the blindfolded girl before them.
Shelly was such a child at times, and I couldn’t believe she was having these girls do this shit.
“What the f**k? You’re actually coming to enjoy the show? You feeling okay?” Austin said from his place lounging against the wall, sounding more than shocked at my presence. I decided to ignore him too as I searched along the line.
Bingo.
Molly was at the very end, standing awkwardly, fidgeting nervously, but still looking her unique kind of hot under that thick, black blindfold. And hell if my mind didn’t wander to what I could do with that piece of material and all the ways to make her scream.
Shelly walked past each pledge, grinning and snickering as she went. I saw her signal to Brody MacMillan, the worst-looking guy on the team—a guy who waits at least two weeks before showering. His drunken face brightened and he stood before Molly. On instinct, her hand flew to her mouth, and I knew she’d smelled him, his body odor and his complete disregard for hygiene. Mac didn’t care, though, never had.
He leaned in, but my feet were already moving, and just as their lips were about to touch, my hands landed on his chest, and I launched him out of the way, his fat ass hitting the floor, his flailing arms bringing down the table of spare blindfolds as he went. “Move, MacMillan. I think you’re in my spot,” I said in a way that invited no backchat.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Molly as her thumb went to her mouth. I was hard, real f**king hard, and couldn’t wait one damn minute longer to taste her.
“Ah n-no… B-bullet! Shelly said… said…” I glanced at him on the floor, his beer belly flopping over his too-tight pants, eyes rolling all over the friggin’ place.
“I don’t give a shit what she said. Go get a f**king drink, or pass out, or something. You get me?”
He sagged to the floor, and I signaled for a few of the freshman players to get him the hell out of this room and into a bed. “I-I get you. I get you, man,” he slurred as they dragged him out by his arms.
“Wait! Mac has to—”
I held up my hand and glared at Shelly as she approached.
“Shut the f**k up, Shel!” I bit aggressively, and she slinked back to her friends, face outraged and seething at Molly. I still couldn’t have cared less.
Turning back to Molly, I edged in. She still smelled faintly of vanilla, and I couldn’t remember a time I wanted to kiss anyone more.
Moving her hand from her mouth to my waist, I almost groaned as her fingers inched up my sides, her lips parting on a small breath. At that small reaction, I knew she was feeling this weird energy too.
I cupped her cheeks so she couldn’t get away and so I could control our every move, then leaned in, brushing a kiss across her lips. I was trying to be soft, gentle—Christ knows that’s not how I usually operate. But then her hand dropped to my stomach, accidently skimming the tip of my cock, and I lost it. Plain, outright lost any ounce of control I was holding on to.
In an instant, I smothered her, taking all she was willing to give. My tongue launched into her mouth and I pulled her body hard against my front, the feel of that contact only forcing my tongue to work harder against hers. I f**king wanted it, wanted her, and I was taking it, and thank f**k she was giving me all of it right back, reacting perfectly to my every forward move. Eventually, she withdrew, but not before licking my lips with the tip of her tongue, that action alone almost making me lose my damn mind.
“It’s mint. The flavor in his mouth is—” She started on about the f**king initiation task, but I needed more of her, and at that moment, what I wanted trumped everything else.
Cutting off her answer, I groaned loudly and dived back in, finishing what I started. She anticipated my aggression and gripped my hair, bringing me in to her as far as I could go, meeting every rough move with her own. My hands began to roam. I needed to feel more of her body. I was about to explore her every God-given curve—but then Shelly had to choose that moment to let her friggin’ mouth fly.
“Enough! What the hell, Rome? Get off her, now!”
Tanya moved behind Molly and untied her blindfold, glowering at me behind her back. My attention went straight to Molly, though, and the startled look she gave me when her eyes flitted up to mine and she realized it was me.
“Hey, Mol,” I said, still not ready to let her escape my hold.
“Hey, you,” she answered, and f**k, at those simple words, I wanted her again. I started to reach for her once more, until the bane of my goddamn life grabbed my arm and pulled me back, slapping my cheek in the process.
That did it. Shelly finally broke me and I reached out and grabbed her wrists. “Don’t f**king hit me. Ever. Again.”
I hated being hit. Yeah, that’s a stupid thing to say. No one likes it—well, unless you sway that way in the bedroom—but for me, it just reminded me of what I’d had to go through for most of my life: pointless beatings.
“Rome tasted of mint. That’s what you wanted, right, for this ridiculous initiation task?” Molly snapped, not seeming intimidated at all by Shelly’s shit and immediately stopping me from exploding in rage.
Looking up through the thick crowd, the first thing I noticed was a long line of pledges decked out in tight togas and opposite them, a line of football players, most sporting hard-ons as they waited their turn to kiss the blindfolded girl before them.
Shelly was such a child at times, and I couldn’t believe she was having these girls do this shit.
“What the f**k? You’re actually coming to enjoy the show? You feeling okay?” Austin said from his place lounging against the wall, sounding more than shocked at my presence. I decided to ignore him too as I searched along the line.
Bingo.
Molly was at the very end, standing awkwardly, fidgeting nervously, but still looking her unique kind of hot under that thick, black blindfold. And hell if my mind didn’t wander to what I could do with that piece of material and all the ways to make her scream.
Shelly walked past each pledge, grinning and snickering as she went. I saw her signal to Brody MacMillan, the worst-looking guy on the team—a guy who waits at least two weeks before showering. His drunken face brightened and he stood before Molly. On instinct, her hand flew to her mouth, and I knew she’d smelled him, his body odor and his complete disregard for hygiene. Mac didn’t care, though, never had.
He leaned in, but my feet were already moving, and just as their lips were about to touch, my hands landed on his chest, and I launched him out of the way, his fat ass hitting the floor, his flailing arms bringing down the table of spare blindfolds as he went. “Move, MacMillan. I think you’re in my spot,” I said in a way that invited no backchat.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Molly as her thumb went to her mouth. I was hard, real f**king hard, and couldn’t wait one damn minute longer to taste her.
“Ah n-no… B-bullet! Shelly said… said…” I glanced at him on the floor, his beer belly flopping over his too-tight pants, eyes rolling all over the friggin’ place.
“I don’t give a shit what she said. Go get a f**king drink, or pass out, or something. You get me?”
He sagged to the floor, and I signaled for a few of the freshman players to get him the hell out of this room and into a bed. “I-I get you. I get you, man,” he slurred as they dragged him out by his arms.
“Wait! Mac has to—”
I held up my hand and glared at Shelly as she approached.
“Shut the f**k up, Shel!” I bit aggressively, and she slinked back to her friends, face outraged and seething at Molly. I still couldn’t have cared less.
Turning back to Molly, I edged in. She still smelled faintly of vanilla, and I couldn’t remember a time I wanted to kiss anyone more.
Moving her hand from her mouth to my waist, I almost groaned as her fingers inched up my sides, her lips parting on a small breath. At that small reaction, I knew she was feeling this weird energy too.
I cupped her cheeks so she couldn’t get away and so I could control our every move, then leaned in, brushing a kiss across her lips. I was trying to be soft, gentle—Christ knows that’s not how I usually operate. But then her hand dropped to my stomach, accidently skimming the tip of my cock, and I lost it. Plain, outright lost any ounce of control I was holding on to.
In an instant, I smothered her, taking all she was willing to give. My tongue launched into her mouth and I pulled her body hard against my front, the feel of that contact only forcing my tongue to work harder against hers. I f**king wanted it, wanted her, and I was taking it, and thank f**k she was giving me all of it right back, reacting perfectly to my every forward move. Eventually, she withdrew, but not before licking my lips with the tip of her tongue, that action alone almost making me lose my damn mind.
“It’s mint. The flavor in his mouth is—” She started on about the f**king initiation task, but I needed more of her, and at that moment, what I wanted trumped everything else.
Cutting off her answer, I groaned loudly and dived back in, finishing what I started. She anticipated my aggression and gripped my hair, bringing me in to her as far as I could go, meeting every rough move with her own. My hands began to roam. I needed to feel more of her body. I was about to explore her every God-given curve—but then Shelly had to choose that moment to let her friggin’ mouth fly.
“Enough! What the hell, Rome? Get off her, now!”
Tanya moved behind Molly and untied her blindfold, glowering at me behind her back. My attention went straight to Molly, though, and the startled look she gave me when her eyes flitted up to mine and she realized it was me.
“Hey, Mol,” I said, still not ready to let her escape my hold.
“Hey, you,” she answered, and f**k, at those simple words, I wanted her again. I started to reach for her once more, until the bane of my goddamn life grabbed my arm and pulled me back, slapping my cheek in the process.
That did it. Shelly finally broke me and I reached out and grabbed her wrists. “Don’t f**king hit me. Ever. Again.”
I hated being hit. Yeah, that’s a stupid thing to say. No one likes it—well, unless you sway that way in the bedroom—but for me, it just reminded me of what I’d had to go through for most of my life: pointless beatings.
“Rome tasted of mint. That’s what you wanted, right, for this ridiculous initiation task?” Molly snapped, not seeming intimidated at all by Shelly’s shit and immediately stopping me from exploding in rage.
