Every Reason Not To Pt. 01

Chapter 1

I slapped my soggy bangs out of my face. Ringlets of damp hair stuck to the skin on my forehead, and I tried to shake them off. All around me, rain pattered in large drops that smacked the pavement; the tarmac road reflected the city lights like a mirror. It was patchy with puddles, and bits of trash floated on its surface. I'd not been prepared for such foul weather in June, but I knew that was Boston for you. It rained here at least once a week.

I was nervous and excited about continuing my education and putting to practice everything I'd learned in school. It'd taken every bit of money I had to get myself to Boston for this internship, which was why it was more important than ever that I do well.

I worked hard even while in college and never attended one party--so what if my friends teased her about being a stick-in-the-mud? Now I'd be able to show them what I was worth, finally make some progress toward living the life I wanted. I'd let life situations delay me for far too long.

The cars whizzed past too fast for me to flag down help. I wiped water off my lips and tasted salt; I hadn't eaten anything substantial since lunchtime yesterday and had finished off a whole package of Fig Newtons between then and now. If this rain kept up, I might get hypothermia or something equally as bad, walking around like this in nothing but a T-shirt and skirt and sandals.

A trash can swayed back and forth across the street under the weight of the wind blowing against it; light posts wobbled like they were nearing their final moments on Earth. I pulled an umbrella out of my backpack--it didn't look like much protection compared to the black sky, but beggars couldn't be choosers--and trudged toward the hospital. I walked by darkened storefronts, abandoned buildings covered in graffiti, bums carrying bags of cans that clanked together with every step they took.

Things looked better as soon as I reached a sidewalk lined with trees. Soon enough, bulky rocks poked up through cracks in the broken pavement. The trees lining the streets did nothing to obstruct the biting wind sweeping across the hospital campus, which looked like an ink spill spreading over glass from this far away.

A few times now, passersby had stopped their cars and offered me a ride when they saw how bedraggled I looked, dripping wet with a pathetic little umbrella flapping next to her head. Once again I reminded myself why men scared me so much: they always assumed women needed rescuing when all they really wanted was someone capable of figuring out basic directions without leading them astray. Plus there existed some innate tendency among men everywhere to think women need them for some reason or another.

The rain refused to let up, and so did I, pushing myself farther away from my broken-down car toward the hospital. It wasn't an ideal situation to show up for my first day of internship soaking wet and late, but I had no choice. At least I had the ability to change out of my soggy clothes into clean dry scrubs. My hair, however, was a different story.

The hospital staff greeted me, though a few of them looked at me like I was a drown rat. One of the nurses led me to the staff breakroom which adjoined the locker rooms and found me a pair of scrubs. I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw I as already five minutes late, so after changing the only thing I could do with my hair was take paper towels from the bathroom and squeeze the water out of it.

I rushed into the conference room now eleven minutes late with a dripping backpack and my hair tied in a knot on top of my head. Tiny rivulets still drained off my scalp down the back of my neck but I was there.

"Ms. Richards, I assume?" Dr. Mathers's scowl was enough rebuke for me and he seemed to know me well. He didn't lecture me. "We're just getting started. Have a seat at the table."

I glanced at the other five other people seated around the oblong table. There were a few chairs empty but no matter where I sat, I'd be sitting directly next to someone. My cheeks burned. I chose a chair to the right of a younger woman, probably only twenty-three or twenty-four years old. Her dark hair and copper eyes made her seem approachable. She smiled as I sat down.

"Now, we were about to introduce ourselves. Dr. Brown, you may begin."

Dr. Mathers stepped back and the woman seated across from me stood. She was petite. Her white lab coat looked like it belonged in the children's department, but she had a loud voice. "My name is Mackenzie Brown. Like you all I'm a first-year intern here in my medical residency. I got into oncology after my son was born with mixed gliomas. I'm getting a late start but I am excited for the adventure." Mackenzie tucked her short dark hair behind her ear and I couldn't help but remember a time I felt exactly the same as I did right now.

Curt and Spencer locked me out of the house we rented freshman year and I got soaked in the rain waiting for them. When they came back, I was furious to find out they had waited around for Spencer's then-fling, Raven. Mackenzie's short dark hair resembled Raven's, triggering the memory, and my mind lingered there for a second. Freshman year seemed ages ago, before life derailed my plans for more than three years, but I was back and I was determined not to let anything get in my way this time.

"I'm Emma," said the younger woman now standing next to me. Her curly, shoulder-length hair was drawn back in a tight braid, but stray strands framed her face. "I'm a first-year intern like you all. Graduated UC Berkeley and decided to come to Boston because this internship is the one everyone aims for. Uh, nothing special about me. I like dogs and I love coffee."

Emma seemed nice, but she, too, was very put-together. I felt completely gross sitting next to these two beautiful women, with my hair soggy and my mascara smeared. The guys didn't bother me much. It wasn't like I was in the market for a boyfriend. Doing a residency would take all my time; I wouldn't have a spare second for dating. Besides the fact that my heart just hadn't been right in years. Not since I left freshman year to go home and take care of Mom.

I stood to introduce myself next. "I'm Kate. I grew up in Upstate New York, went to Columbia in the city, and got a late start on my residency after a break to care for my mother who passed away from breast cancer. I actually got into oncology because my brother developed bone cancer in high school, and I just really wanted to make a difference." The dark-haired guy two chairs over from me looked at me like a piece of meat. The others smiled warmly, and I sat down, ready to disappear. I should have told them why my hair was wet. I felt embarrassed.

One by one the others introduced themselves. Ima from Israel, moved here for the advantages of first-world science and technology. Gorgeous, but too smart for her own good. Caleb from South Dakota. He seemed like a great guy, sort of laid back and fun loving.

But when Jeff introduced himself and ran his hand through his hair like Rico Suave, I knew he was trouble. He made eyes at me and Emma and rambled on about his sports car and how his father paid for his med school, which is why he was there. Daddy got him into the internship, not his skill. As Dr. Mathers welcome everyone, Emma leaned over my shoulder and whispered in my ear.

"Geesh, that guy thinks he's god's gift to women."

I had to hide a snicker, because I totally agreed. The guy reminded me of someone I knew, a person for whom my heart had only bitterness. "You watch," I whispered back, "he'll hit on us before this day is out."

Emma snorted when she laughed and Dr. Mathers eyed us. "Something funny ladies?"

"No, nothing," Emma sang out.

We straightened up. I didn't want to leave a worse impression than I already had. I relaxed a little knowing I had already made a connection in this group. Part of me feared feeling ostracized for being older, but if Mackenzie could come back clearly well into her thirties and do well, then at twenty-nine I wasn't doing as bad as I thought. It reinvigorated my hopes, and I focused as Dr. Mathers laid out the entire syllabus for this year--six, two-month rotations to learn the basics of every aspect of this job.

When he was done speaking, he gave us a ten-minute break to chat while we waited for the first rotation leader to arrive. I immediately turned to Emma and grinned at her. She leaned back in her chair and twirled a strand of her blonde hair around her finger.

"So you look like you've had an interesting morning."

"Yeah." I touched my wet hair self-consciously. "Car broke down five blocks away, and of course it just had to be pouring. My clothes got soaked so a nurse got me some scrubs."

"Yeah, wow, that sucks. Look if you need a ride when we're done today, I can help." Emma was a saint in doctor's clothing. With the expense of moving I was strapped for cash, and now that my car broke down and I had no clue what was wrong with it, using a taxi or Uber would literally break the bank.

"Or I could give you a ride home." Tall, dark, and obnoxious leaned on the table between Emma and I looking down at me. He flexed his muscles so that his biceps hardened into round mounds, which had he not been so cocky might have been attractive.

"Uh, thanks... Emma," I said, leaning around him, "I would really appreciate that ride."

Dr. Mathers called us back to attention and Jeff walked away undeterred and Emma and I snickered again. "Told you," I whispered. This year was going to be interesting.

Chapter 2

I stood just around the corner from the nurses' station scanning my class syllabus. I hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but when I heard the chatter of a few of the female nurses milling about I couldn't help but overhear them talking about me. I shouldn't have been surprised; it happened every place I worked.

"Has Dr. McSteamy showed up?" I didn't recognize the voice, but it made me snicker. I couldn't believe real medical professionals were entertained by that show. Grey's was the worst example of a real hospital was like. I had only watched it under duress--an ex-girlfriend who was obsessed.

"Not yet, but he's due any minute. He has to check in here before going down to three to the lecture hall I think."

I peeked around the corner. I met a few of these nurses yesterday, but a few of them were new faces. And a few of them were quite tempting to look at.

"I haven't met him yet, but the way you ladies talk about him, I think I'll hang around to see what all the fuss is about." A brunette with a nice ass hugs her chart to her stomach and grins at the others. Their backs are to me, so none of them see me there spying on them.

"Gosh, he has these gorgeous blue eyes. And I bet if he took his shirt off you'd see rippling muscles." The blonde named Jill rocked on her heels "Oh god, it would be so sexy if he had a tattoo too."

I couldn't help but chuckle more. I was eating this up despite the fact that I had no intention of dating any of them. This job was too important to blow off by getting involved with a coworker. But I did want to hear more. I leaned on the corner of the wall in plain sight, but they kept talking.

"Well Dr. Sloan had nothing on this guy." Heather leaned against the counter and sighed. "He's literally the hottest man I've ever met."

The nurse seated at the desk on the phone glanced my direction and noticed me, and I smirked at her. She had to speak to whomever it was, and couldn't let the ladies know they were being listened to. She tried to gesture frantically, but they were so involved in their conversation they didn't notice.

"I'd like to be a fly on the wall in the locker room after his workout--watch him shower and change." Jill bumped shoulders with a nurse beside her whose name I did not know yet.

I cleared my throat and said, "Good morning, ladies." I purposefully looked down at my class roster as I continued. "Don't you have patients to tend to instead of talking about TV shows?" A few of them gasped and scurried away tittering. Jill and Heather lingered there.

"Good morning, Dr. Mitchel." Jill winked at me and I smiled politely before running her hand through her hair. I logged that wink away in my mind--Jill is a flirt. I looked down at the ring on her hand and knew that would be trouble.

Jill I wasn't worried about--married with two kids. But Heather--with an H, as she introduced herself--was like crack. One tiny hit and I'd be hooked. I had to pass on that, even though it was tempting as hell. Her body had curves for days, and she was gorgeous, but professionality was king here.

Only one woman had ever made me hard just looking at her and that was all I could focus on right now.

I ran down the names of the students in my new rotation. I'd already managed two full rotations through the residency with second-year students before they passed on to their next portion of learning, and this was my first time working with first-year interns. To make matters interesting, a name on this list was familiar to me, and she had no idea I was about to walk back into her life.

"Do you have any lunch plans?" Heather asked, leaning across the counter. The way her scrubs dipped in front allowed free view of her ample cleavage, but I focused on her face.

"None yet, why?"

"Want to hook up?" she asked, batting her eyelashes. "I mean, for lunch. We can get a slice at the NYPD across the street."

"Yeah, Pizza Depot is a crappy way to eat pizza." I chuckled, knowing she hadn't made that mistake. She knew what the term "hooking up" meant. "I'm more of a Chicago-style guy. Thanks though." I forced my eyes to obey me, turning my gaze back to my roster. I tried to familiarize myself with the rest of the names on the list. Teaching Kate would be difficult, but I could get through it.

"Have it your way. We can go to Rosita's on third. I can drive. Great Chicago-style deep dish." She was persistent; I'd give her that.

"Honestly, I packed my lunch today. But maybe another time." I winked at her, a natural reflex. She blushed and sauntered off, appeased that her flirting with me was getting somewhere, though deep inside my gut I knew I would never be dating her.

I sighed, pushing that thought out of my head. I had been the flirt my whole life, but now, north of thirty years old, I wanted more. It didn't matter that every woman who ever passed me in the hallway made eyes at me. Being attractive to women was something I'd banked on in college.

Until I didn't.

The moment I realized that my good looks took me places that I dint' want to go, I started to straighten up. I hurt people, people I cared about, and I couldn't take those things back, no matter how hard I tried. But I still couldn't stop flirting. That had become such an ingrained part of my personality that I didn't know fi I ever would give it up.

"Dr. Mitchel," a voice called to me.

I looked up to see Greta smiling. "I think Dr. Mathers is almost ready for you. You can head down to the conference room and wait outside the door until he announces you." Her round cheeks and hazel eyes were comforting, more like a mother who watched over me than yet another woman hoping for a score with "Dr. Smooth."

"Thanks, Greta. I'll head down there now."

I tucked the roster chart under my arm and headed to the elevator. It was different teaching rather than just working on patients. I'd been invited to Dana-Farber Brigham Cancer Center to instruct residents and interns, primarily, but my renown as a premier plastic surgeon was what had opened the door. It seemed like the women who worked around me, however, only thought of me like eye candy. Or maybe they were hoping for free lipo...

The elevator took a while to reach the top floor where I had just finished rounds, and I rode it down to level three, where Dr. Mathers and his students were waiting on me. The conference room was only a few doors down from the elevators, the lecture hall on the other end of the building, but on the same level. This was where I would spend more than sixty percent of my time for the next two months.

I leaned against the wall outside the door where Mathers was talking. It was ajar, so I could hear everything he was saying. My feet were sore, tired from being on them all night after a young child who suffered with brain cancer needed reconstruction on his skull. The surgery was supposed to take three hours and with complications we were at it until seven a. m. I yawned, looking at the bright side. I hadn't had to commute in the rain at least.

Pressing my head against the wall I closed my eyes and listened to Dr. Mathers.

"Now, we've been over the syllabus and you all know plastic surgery comes first." His voice was nasally, grating at times, but reminded me of a professor in college. I snickered.

"Dr. Mathers," a female voice said.

"Yes."

"Why plastic surgery? We're oncologists, not beauticians." The comment was very ill-informed. I couldn't wait to dig into the why behind my chosen career path. Sure I could do breast augmentation, or liposuction. But when I realized the need in the cancer field, I'd poured all my energy into learning how to best serve these patients.

"Ms. Brown, I thought you of all people would understand this. When a woman has a double mastectomy, it can be life altering just to go through treatments and therapies. Without follow-up breast augmentation, her life could be even more traumatic."

Mathers's comment was spot on. I treated a woman who was afraid her life was over after a single mastectomy. I had given her hope and her body image back. It was a good feeling. But not as good as when I helped a young man smile after bone cancer took half his jaw. That smile was permanently etched in my brain, the way a certain other smile was.

I grimaced, clenching my eyes shut tightly. I fought this demon for years and thought I had it beat, then Kate's name showed up on my damn roster and ever since the monster was back, clawing at my thoughts, invading my dreams.

"Come on, Spencer," I lectured myself.

"You will be humbled to know the doctor you are going to learn from has done more than seven thousand surgeries. He is part of the project that is experimenting with eye transplant as a means to restore hope for those who lose their eyesight as a direct result of trauma. They've been successful at least thrice in doing this surgery, which some doctors dispute is cosmetic in nature, but he is championing the cause. Please, welcome Dr. Spencer Mitchel."

At my name, I pushed the door open and strolled in. All eyes turned in my direction, two males, three females. Kate. Her hair was wet, tied in a knot on top of her head. The others wore street clothes similar to mine, professional but casual, and lab coats. Kate wore scrubs that looked a size too large, and her mascara left dark rings around her lower eyelids. She'd been caught in the rain by the looks of it.

When her mouth moved, I read her lips.

"FML," was what she said. Her posture slumped and she leaned back in her seat with a look of dismay.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Mitchel. I'll be teaching you for this rotation. Dr. Mathers is correct about the implementation of cosmetic surgery in the treatment and follow up care for cancer patients. Without our hope-giving surgeries, patients would suffer far more greatly than needed." As I spoke I tried to look at each of the interns, but my eyes kept moving back toward Kate. She was as beautiful as I remembered, only way more grown up now.

"You have learned that what I do is called cosmetic surgery, or plastic surgery, and while the term is cosmetic surgeon, I actually specialize in reconstruction as it pertains to cancer patients, though my specialty has applications in many fields, like brain trauma. I once did reconstruction on a child's skull after a brain injury and subsequent fracture of his left mandible. He'd never chew again without it."

A hand shot up and I pointed at the young man. "You, have a question?"

"Yeah, so you do a lot of breast reconstruction? Like what's that like?"

I wanted to roll my eyes. This kid was so much like me I knew I'd have amy hands full. He had a lot of growing up to do still.

"Yes, I have, and it helps women find their self-confidence again after trauma." I watched Kate's face fall. She'd watched her mother die of the devastating disease and I knew that question had to have been hard for her. "But my skills aren't limited to only what is considered cosmetic. We reconstruct bones, ligaments, and even muscle tissue at times."

Dr. Mathers clapped his hands. "Thank you, Dr. Mitchel. Now if you all want to take a ten-minute break, I will escort you all down to the lecture hall where we will dive into some practical housekeeping things."

I stepped back as the students got out of their chairs and headed for the door. I had no intention of holding Kate up, but if she approached me I'd be cordial. I sort of expected her to do it, so when she breezed right past me, glowering as she went, I could do nothing but watch her walk away.

This was going to be harder than I thought.

Chapter 3

... ten years earlier

The incessant thumping of the music was so irritating I almost barged downstairs three times to tell them to turn it down, but I stopped myself every time. The old frat house turned rental should have been big enough to share with my brother and his best friend, but the parties they threw made studying impossible. I had a degree to earn, and so did they, but at three years older than me, they were deep in the party circuit and well on their way to tanking their education.

I put the headphones on and turned my Mozart up louder, hoping the dub-step seeping in through the walls would be drown out. When Curt told me I could move in with him and Spencer, I'd thought it was a terrific idea--free rent, roommates so I didn't scared at night, and not too far from Mom and Dad. Columbia had accepted me, and life was great.

Until, I moved in.

The words on the page seemed to vibrate, my eyes unable to focus. I wondered if it was the deafening music or if my eyes were just too tired. College came easy to Curt. He graduated high school as the salutatorian while I graduated somewhere in the middle of my class. I didn't struggle academically, at least not when I had a peaceful place to do my course work. These parties, though, were the bane of my existence. My Saturday morning class suffered because Spencer thought it was funny to plan something every Friday night so I couldn't study.

"Ughhh." I pounded the sheets, angry that no matter how many times I told the guys to stop partying so much and focus on their educations, they ignored me. I'd have been better off struggling with a job to pay rent on my own place--or god forbid, going to a dorm.

Unable to focus, I decided to clean my room instead. Textbooks and papers cluttered the floor where I'd been lying down earlier, so I started there. The old wooden planks, buffered by a gray area rug, creaked beneath my feet as I moved about. The built in desk, home to my myriad of binders and study journals, whined as I stacked the heavy books on it. The old, whitewashed wood had seen better days, probably before the university grew to the size it was today and college students descended upon the neighborhood needing living arrangements.

A loud crash from downstairs hit my ears and I'd had enough. I already knew what they would say before I threw open the narrow door and stormed down the too-steep stairs. They'd call me "house mom" and badger me about being a stick-in-the-mud, and I didn't care. Their drunken demolition of furniture every weekend had to stop. I stomped down the stairs, not intentionally--I was just angry--and when I got to the bottom I saw the splintered coffee table beneath the sneakers of Jack Holt. I glared at him with all the fury I could muster.

"What the hell!" I screamed, but the music was so loud no one turned to look. They cheered at Jack's antics, all of them with a red Solo cup in their hands. I saw Spencer standing in the corner of the room with a grin on his face and a hand on his dick--not his hand, Raven's. I wondered if it was her real name, blonde hair, pale pasty skin. She probably thought up the nickname as a gimmick to get guys to talk to her. She disgusted me.

"Spencer!" I screamed again, but his lips locked on the bimbo's neck working at a hickey to display his dominance and mark his territory. Why did guys do that? Treat women like objects who needed claimed.

Jack stepped off the wreckage that formerly held my coffee and served as my footrest as I woke up each morning. He pumped his drunken fist in the air as the others continued to clap and cheer, then dropped to his knees. Curt stuffed a hose down his throat while two other guys I didn't know started pouring beer in the funnel attached to the other end. It was a repulsive sight and one I intended to rectify immediately.

Marching over to where Spencer stood, I pushed up my sleeves, ready to let him have it. I had to weave through a cluster of scantily clad, mostly drunk women, and inadvertently kicked over someone's drink, but I made it.

"Spencer!" I shouted, and he peeled his lip-gloss-smeared face off of Raven.

"What." His scowl evidenced his frustration with me.

"Turn this music down! Look what they did to our table."

Raven rolled her eyes at me and though she said the word "Mom," I couldn't hear her. I could only read her lips, which had just as much lip gloss as all of Spencer's face and neck. I wanted to punch her, or step on her foot, anything to make her grow up. Spencer was such a dick, making out with a different girl every weekend. At least this one was a repeat, on-again, off-again for weeks now.

"Look, Kate, just let us have our fun. You can have your silent study time tomorrow." He rolled his eyes and turned back to Lip Gloss Lady.

I screamed and growled at the same time, but it was swallowed up by the cacophony around me. Spencer's lips were busy smothering Raven again and I glanced around the room, hoping to see where Curt was, only he was at the receiving end of the bong. When I turned back to the lip-locked couple I was seething. I pushed my hand between them and separated their faces yet again. My rage was out of control, and he just laughed at me.

"What is it House Mom? You need us to stay twelve inches apart?" Spencer's words were barely audible. I glared at him because I read his lips. Then I stomped on his foot. He winced, hoisting his leg in the air and hopping on one foot, but he was faking. After a few seconds he started laughing harder and I knew I was about to start crying, so I stormed off. These idiots weren't going to listen to me anyway.

The only comfort I had in life was that I was moving onward and upward. As I made my way up the stairs I tried to let go of the anger. Spencer's half-assed attitude toward his studies really ticked me off because I had to spend hours studying to get good grades, and he could fly by the seat of his pants and score straight As. It was ridiculous. But it was the fact that he had more girls than a line of Rockettes that really bothered me. Guys like that shouldn't be on a med-school track. They belonged in a bar somewhere out of sight, out of mind.

The one saving grace was when Curt met his girlfriend. At least he grew up and stopped passing women around with Spencer like they were a bag of potato chips.

I slammed my bedroom door when I walked in, but I knew it went unheard, just like my lectures. The noise would continue well into the night, so my studying was over. I put a pair of earplugs in and curled up in a ball on my bed. If I transferred to online school maybe I could go home with Mom, or maybe I'd end up flunking out because I didn't' handle online learning well. Either way I wouldn't have to watch girls hang all over Spencer.

The partying continued well into the night. Somewhere around three a. m. the music stopped, but only after I noticed red and blue flashing lights out front and figured one of the neighbors must have called in a noise complaint.

I yawned, stretching after I woke up to a silent house. My ears were still ringing, but at least I could hear myself think. I staggered down the stairs at ten past seven, headache and over tired. Class didn't start until nine, so I headed for the kitchen for a cup of coffee, surprised to see Spencer standing there with a mug in hand waiting for the percolator to finish.

"You're up early," I mumbled, still half asleep.

The fact that he was wearing only his boxer briefs and his dick is slightly swollen doesn't escape my eye. I turn, not embarrassed just not wanting to see that right now, and reach for a mug from the cupboard beside the sink. Out the window overlooking the alley, I notice Raven, still dressing as she makes her way around back to her car. Half of her tit is out, nipple fully exposed. I clench my jaw, fighting back my frustration.

If Spencer only knew what he was doing my fucking heart, maybe he wouldn't do it. Or maybe he would keep doing it because that's the way players like him worked. He had no clue how I felt about him and how seeing him with a different woman every week hurt me.

"Morning wood... Oh wait... I see what you did there."

I turned and glared at him. "That wasn't a joke, Spencer. I can't believe you stayed up past three a. m. and you're up now. How do you even function." I took everything I had in me not to stare at his half-mast dick. I glanced at it, sure, but not intentionally, or at least not consciously. He was so fucking hot I never could keep my eyes off him, which only played into his horrible relationship habits. At least I knew he used condoms every time. I'd find them tossed in the bin after every party. Wouldn't want Mr. Screws a Lot getting someone knocked up.

I rolled my eyes and pushed the coffee maker off, taking the pot to fill my mug. "Just clean up the mess." The hot brew met my nostrils and refreshed me already. The minute that caffeine hit my soul I'd be good as new. As long as I could keep my eyes off Spencer's chiseled body.

"Why are you so stuck up, anyway? I mean we were only having a little fun to blow off steam after a week of classes." He poured his own coffee and stood there looking like a Greek god sipping it.

"Not everyone can earn all As while screwing every girl on campus. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a class to get ready for." I walked away before I said something I'd regret. It wasn't that I hated Spencer, just that I hated how he behaved, like an undisciplined child. And maybe a little jealous of all those women getting his attention when deep down I wanted it.

God I hated men.

Chapter 4

"Mr. Mitchel, may I remind you yet again that you are supposed to be listening and taking notes, not cracking jokes." Professor Hargrove glared at me through his thick glasses and Betsy, sitting to my right, snickered.

"Of course, Professor, I'm taking so many notes." I held my pen up so he could see it, and he turned back to the board as he lectured and wrote. "That guy forgot that college is supposed to be fun," I whispered to Betsy.

"Tell me about it." She rolled her eyes but hunched over her desk and continued writing.

Still grinning at the joke I made, I put my pen to my notebook and scribbled down a few notes. I didn't need to write much; I knew this stuff already. It was nothing more than a more complex version of what we learned last year. I'd have finished school by now if they just taught us this stuff all at once, but they dragged it out just to torture us.

"So you see, the pupil can expand up to ten times its size when excitatory stimuli arouse the neural pathways." Hargrove turned and tapped his dry erase marker on the diagram of the human eye and I snickered.

"I know something else that expands up to ten times its size when excited." I couldn't help myself. The joke was just waiting to be told.

Sarah covered her mouth, but I saw her cheeks flush red. I sat there with a smirk on my face and glanced at Betsy whose snickering had gotten worse. Professor Hargrove again glared at me.

"Mr. Mitchel, if your joking continues to be a problem we will have to discuss a transfer to a different class. And ladies if you believe what Mr. Mitchel says you're going to be very disappointed." He shakes his head. "Class dismissed."

Everyone stood and picked up their things. The room was a flurry of chaotic noise and activity over which Hargrove shouted, "Don't forget we have a quiz over the optic nerve and the basic structure of the human eye tomorrow!"

I crammed my book and notebook into my backpack and zipped it shut. Betsy leaned over my desk and slid a slip of paper into the outer pocket. "In case you get lonely with that tool of yours," she said seductively. "You can call me." She winked and walked away and I rolled my eyes.

She wasn't my type. Dark hair, half her chest hanging out constantly. She was the sort of girl guys laid when they couldn't find someone worth actually taking an interest in. I preferred the hard-to-get type, the ones who made me work at it a little--though Raven was different. At least she didn't mind when I hooked up with someone else either.

I shouldered my bag and followed the masses toward the door.

"I was serious, Mr. Mitchel. Shut it down, or I'm speaking to the dean." Hargrove's harping didn't faze me. He'd said it a dozen times already. He was like one of those parents who counts to three a dozen times before they finally get up and do it themselves.

"You think he's serious?" Sarah asked, falling into step next to me.

"Nah, he said it all last year too. I think he just likes to have someone to pick on. It makes him feel like a big man."

I'd been working on Sarah for weeks now, trying to get her to loosen up. She was one of those sorts of girls who came to college with a very religious background--probably still a virgin. She hardly flirted with me, but when she did, it really got my juices flowing. And she wasn't dating anyone either, so that was a bonus.

"Well, I hope he's not serious. I like you in class." She batted her eyelashes and walked off. I watched her ass as she strolled away until she vanished in the swarm of students milling about the hallway.

For Friday afternoon, campus was still hopping. I ducked out of RADVEC--Roy and Diana Vagelos Education Center--and headed out toward the street. It was a nice day for early autumn, so I decided to walk a few blocks to the pastry shop that had the best muffins in Manhattan before catching an Uber back to the house. I wasn't walking that forty-block haul back to Columbia. It still irked me that Hargrove refused to host his anatomy class at the college campus like other professors. He insisted it be at the RADVEC instead, which meant a commute to and from class.

When Curt found that old frat house that got shut down, both of us thought we'd struck gold. We sort of had. The landlord was some old guy who only wanted a thousand bucks a month rent, and my dad paid for a year up front, and when I scored straight As freshman year he promised to pay the rent for the remainder of my time at Columbia if I kept my grades up, which meant we lived basically for free in one of the most expensive cities in the world.

A horn honked and I looked up. Curt was dangling out the window of a black sports car driven by his girlfriend. "Hey, douche, get in."

"Wow, sweet ride." I jogged over to the car and he opened the door, sliding his seat forward so I could climb in the back seat. "How'd you score this?"

"It's my dad's," Kara called over her shoulder. The rumble of the hemi beneath that hood was so loud with the windows open I could barely hear her as she took off down the street.

I enjoyed the ride because it saved me some money and the hassle of calling up an Uber. Dad only gave me so much per month to spend and I didn't want to get a job and waste all my free time working when I could be enjoying college life. I told him I needed the time to study, so he cut me a check.

"Man last week was wild. I can't believe Jack trashed the coffee table," Curt said, when Kara stopped at a red light.

"Yeah, that was crazy. And your sister flipped out. Can you believe her? She acts like your mom." I smacked the back of Curt's headrest and laughed. "God she really needs to get laid or something."

Curt turned over his shoulder and glowered at me. "She's my sister, you fucking idiot."

I held my hands up defensively. "Woah, I didn't mean by me. I meant she just needs to loosen up." Curt had this dumb rule about not laying a hand on his sister. He had since the second she moved in. She was off limits for some reason, so I just respected that. Curt and I had only met three years ago when we got class assignments. We had a lot in common and he was looking for a cheap place to stay while taking his gen-eds. I offered him a room with me and he'd been there ever since. But Kate? She'd only moved in a few months ago. The two were as different as chocolate and vanilla.

"Yeah, well I told you not to talk about her that way." He turned back around, but I could see his scowl in the mirror on the back side of his visor.

Kara took off into traffic and I stared out the window at the poor souls left walking the sidewalk. Kate was hot as fuck; I'd thought that since the first time she walked into the house wearing those dorky glasses, looking like Zoey Deschanel on New Girl. She had an innocence about her I'd been hungry to defile, but a code was a code, and if I expected Curt to keep up his end of the deal, I had to keep up with mine. Besides the fact that Kate was so stuck in her studies, she never took time to party with us. How was I going to put moves on her while her nose was in a book? And she had zero interest in me; I could see it every time she looked at me with disgust. I wasn't' her type. To her I was the "Betsy" to rule them all.

But god if I didn't want to tap that, just to say I had.

Chapter 5

I pounded my fist into the textbook and blew out a frustrated breath, letting my lips vibrate together. I hated biology--specifically Punnett squares. I didn't see how tracing heredity and genes would help me save a life, but it was part of the core curriculum I had to master before even thinking of applying to med-school. So I sat in this stupid library at almost midnight across the table from Jen--poli-sci major who was no help with biology--cramming for a test.

"You know, you can change your major. You'd be good at law..." Jen shoved a spicy Takis chip in her mouth and crunched it. I was surprised the librarian hadn't kicked her out yet. The noise was one thing, but those chips left colorful powder on the fingers of the eater, and on every surface that person touched. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

"I don't want to do law, Jen. I really want to get into med-school. Columbia has the best program on the east coast. I have to make it in, which means I have to pass biology 101. And these things are so frustrating." My elbows planted on the shellacked wood, I buried my head in my palms. "Ugh..."

Jen crunched her chips letting me sulk in silence, but I heard a familiar voice, a baritone rumbling toward me. He was the last person I wanted to see right now. Just another distraction to keep me from focusing and learning what I needed. He had a way of showing up at the most inconvenient times, and there was nothing I could do about it. The library was a public place for all students, not just me.

"Look, there's your roommate. He's the one on the same medical track as you. Go ask him."

I pried my hands away from my face and glared at her. "He's the last person on this planet that I'd ask. Do you know him at all?" Jen knew him. In fact, it was likely she'd taken a ride on Train Spencer at least once. "Never mind." I folded my arms over my text book and dropped my head. Maybe if I just shrank as much as possible, Spencer wouldn't see me and I wouldn't have to put up with him tonight.

"But he's hot, Kate. I mean, who doesn't want a sexy study buddy. Even if he isn't your type or whatever, it's still eye candy." More crunching, more annoyance. I growled beneath my breath, refusing to admit she was right.

Spencer was attractive--too much so for his own good. And I'd fallen into the trap of fantasizing about him a time or two, but that's all it would ever be. He didn't take relationships seriously. He didn't take college seriously. He didn't take life seriously. I wanted to focus on my career path and grow up, not be held back by a playboy who wanted only one thing.

"Oh god, he's coming this way."

My head popped up. Jen was frantically fluffing her hair, not realizing the blue flavor powder from her fingers was transferring to her blonde locks. She had blue streaks everywhere she touched, which was comical. I snickered and covered my mouth so she couldn't see. Even if I wanted to warn her how stupid she looked, I had no time. Spencer strutted right up to us, books tucked under his arm.

He hadn't been studying; I knew that much. It was a Saturday night. He was doing his usual thing--perusing the campus looking for some girl to flirt with. He didn't put on cologne that heavy when he was studying. Besides the fact that he did his studying first thing in the morning the day of his test and aced it. I was the one who had to spend hours every day in the library where I had peace and quiet, cramming for a test I'd score an eight-five on.

"Hello, ladies." The tone of his voice always got me. He spoke and my ears drank it in, like a bee to a flower. I hated how I knew his voice so well I could pick it out of a crowd, that it resonated in my chest, forcing my body to feel sensations I had to fight to keep under control.

"Hey, Spencer," Jen said, standing up. She ran her blue-stained fingers through her hair again. "I was just telling Kate she should ask you for help. She's cramming for biology."

Spencer looked down at me and I looked away, irritated with Jen. "Bio? That's easy shit, Kate." He pushed past Jen. "Mind?" he asked, gesturing at the chair. Jen looked rejected and shrugged.

"Go ahead. I have to get back to the dorm." She picked up her chips and pocketbook and said, "See ya, Kate." Then she was gone, the only buffer I had between me and Spencer.

"What are you struggling with?" he asked, taking my textbook.

"Look, I don't need your help." I tried to wrestle it back from him but he was stronger than I was. His hands brushed across mine in the fight, sending jolts of electricity through me. I didn't want to touch him, but god I actually did. I winced and pulled my arms back, crossing them over my chest.

"Ah, Punnett squares. Lots of people struggle with this. You see you--"

"I said, I don't need your help." Indignance wasn't the right word for what I felt, but that's how I sounded; I was sure of it. "Thank you but I want to do this on my own."

Spencer closed the book and slid it back across the table at me. I felt bad because he was actually being helpful and all I could think about was how attracted I was to him. If he stayed here to help me, I'd find myself staring at him or flirting. I'd fall victim to his charm the exact same way every other girl did, and I'd just be another notch on his belt. He had a lot of growing up to do before he'd even be relationship ready. I had no intention of letting my emotions be destroyed by that nonsense.

"Look, I'm just trying to help, Kate. I know how challenging it can be to settle in to a study routine. You're so new to all this." He shrugged and peered at me with his goddamn blue eyes. Eyes that found me in my dreams and stirred arousal in my groin. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to lick my lips.

"I don't need help," I snapped, the lust-monster inside of me unable to say what it really wanted to. "I am very capable of passing this test on my own. Thank you." I hated that I sounded rude, because I wasn't a rude person. He just irritated me to no end.

"God, what crawled up your ass and died?" He stood, tucking his books back under his arm. "I was just trying to be friendly and help you." He scowled at me and I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. I hadn't meant to upset him or anything, but he did have a way of making me feel less than human at times.

"You probably have a hot date or something anyway." My snide remark came from a place of self-defense. I needed him to go away because now I felt horrible for hurting his feelings when he was trying to be nice, and if I felt that way, he'd stay. We'd flirt. I'd be everything I loathed about the women who flocked to him.

"Yeah, well maybe I should have never come over here. You're right. Do it on your own."

"Look, Spencer, I--"

"Oh, Mr. Jokes-a-lot." A tall blonde girl with bright blue eyes strolled up. I hadn't seen her around before, but she was definitely not Raven.

I had almost broken down and apologized to him. I'd have invited him to stay and help me. But this girl's appearance proved my point. Spencer was here to find a quick hook up and nothing else. I'd have been the next name on his list if I'd have let my guard down.

"Sarah..." His attention shifted immediately to the newcomer. "Uh, I was just helping Kate study. She's my best friend's little sister."

Of course he would play the "I tutor helpless little college freshmen because I'm such an amazing person" card. Just another way he manipulated women into giving him what he wanted. Sarah seemed impressed.

"Biology? Yeah, that was tough for me too. Spencer's super smart, Kate. He's helped me with anatomy so many times."

Exactly what I needed. One of Spencer's bimbos trying to push him on me. "Thanks," I said dryly already collecting my books into a stack.

"Oh, you don't have to leave for me. I was just heading out." Sarah batted her eyelashes and Spencer was putty in her hands.

"I'll walk you out. See you at home, Kate."

And then he was gone.

I lowered my forehead to the textbook in front of me, then banged my head a few times on it. Spencer was smart, funny, charming, and sexy as hell. He would have been the perfect guy for me, if only he wasn't a player. I hated that I had to sit back and watch him parade women through our home on a revolving door. And I hated that I cared so much about what he did. I knew it was because I had feelings for him. Learned that in psyche 101. I just didn't know why my stupid brain felt that way.

Sitting straight, I determined not to let anything else distract me until I had a full grasp on Punnett squares. I'd show Spencer that I didn't need his help. I'd show everyone I was capable.

I'd also show my stupid brain how Spencer was bad news--if I could keep my mind off him for at least five seconds.

Chapter 6

I flipped through the stations one at a time, nothing really on to entertain me--reruns of the Golden Girls, some old classic baseball replays, a few horror movies that were only fun to watch with a woman who'd climb on your lap when she got scared. Kate had been at the library for hours, and after being rejected yet again by Sarah, I came back home to lick my wounds. Now I was regretting leaving Kate there to study alone. I had really wanted to help her, but her edgy behavior triggered my temper.

Nursing my fifth beer, I unzipped my fly and let the pressure off my stomach. I'd have been more comfortable in shorts, but I didn't want to stomp around upstairs and wake Curt. I propped my feet up on the old crate we were using as a makeshift coffee table and settled on Murder She Wrote. It was halfway over, and I was halfway drunk, so I found it easier to tune my brain out and stare into the void.

My thoughts trailed off though, unable to focus on the show. Kate never stayed out this late. Not that I was overly worried. Columbia was a safe enough campus and we were right in its heart. No, I was angry with myself for not having explained those dame Punnett squares that came so easily to me. She'd have been home and sleeping if I hadn't gotten triggered. But she was so damn infuriating. She treated me like I was her son, not an older roommate who graciously invited her to live rent free.

The beer was empty, and I found myself irritated by that fact, so I forced myself off the couch and wandered into the kitchen to rifle through the fridge. I hadn't eaten dinner, and I was too buzzed to drink much more without food. Leftover pizza called my name--Kate's, but after the way she snapped at me tonight, I didn't care. I opened the box, grabbed a slice, and held it between my teeth as I grabbed another beer and pried the top off.

The front door creaked open, keys jingling as it did. She was home and I had waited up to apologize, but after stewing about her moodiness, I felt more like telling her to grow up. I chewed the cold pizza and use my knee to shut the fridge. The television and lights in the other room flicked off and I heard her footsteps headed toward the stairs. So I moved that direction too, slipping out the back entrance of the kitchen and standing on the bottom step.

"I was watching that," I mumbled with my mouth full of pizza.

Kate gasped then huffed out a sigh. "Thought you left it on like normal."

"No, I was getting a slice of pizza." I held it up triumphantly and then took a swig of beer.

"My pizza?" I could see the glare on her face through the darkness and I smirked.

"Only pizza in the fridge. I didn't' see your name on it."

"Dammit, Spencer. You knew that was mine. I told you this morning not to eat it." She tried to push past me up the steps but I put my foot out and rested my beer hand on the banister. "Get out of my way, idiot."

"Look, why are you so mean to me?" I took another bite of pizza and chewed it loudly. I hated cold pizza but I loved irritating her so much. Though if this conversation continued the way it seemed to be going, we would wake Curt by shouting.

"I'm not mean to you. You just don't take anything seriously, which annoys me."

"Oh, because I don't have to stay at the library for five hours to prep for a test? I'm a horrible person because I'm smarter than you?" As soon as the words left my mouth I knew I was in for it.

Kate's eyebrows furrowed but turned down in the center. She wasn't angry; she was hurt. Instead of pushing past me up the steps, she walked into the kitchen and turned the lights on. I heard her textbook drop on the table and clenched my teeth. I had to follow her. Frustrated, I shoved the rest of the pizza in my mouth and walked around the corner into the kitchen.

She stood with the fridge open. The way she hadn't even said anything told me how hurt she was. She always had some snarky reply. Tonight she was silent.

"Look, Kate, I--"

"Ate the last slice?" She turned around on her heel. "I am hungry, dammit."

"No, I swear; I only had one." I rushed over to the fridge to see the box empty. I thought there was more there when I took this one out or I wouldn't have eaten it. Curt must have gotten to it before me but try telling her that.

"You stupid jerk." Her voice quavered as she spoke, and she cleared her throat and pushed me away, slamming the fridge. "I'm so sick of you not respecting me."

"Woah, I was apologizing. I didn't eat all your dumb pizza." I held my hand up defensively and backed away, and she came at me with both barrels like always.

"If it's not pizza it's my study time. Loud parties every Friday with women hanging all over you. You have no self-respect though, so why should I expect you to respect me." Her finger pushed into my chest. "If you want to torch your own career go ahead, but the parties have to stop. I need time to study and I don't appreciate coming home to broken furniture and waking up to see bimbos sneaking out the back."

That was enough. I grabbed her wrist with one hand and stepped forward. She backed up as I stalked toward her though she looked angry, not afraid. "Let go of me," she snapped but I pushed her until she was pinned against the fridge. I slurped my beer until it was empty, then tossed the bottle into the trashcan next to the fridge.

"I'm done with you thinking you can come in here and tell me what to do. In case you forgot, my father pays the bills here. You don't get to tell me when I can or can't have parties."

Her nostrils flared and she tried to pull her arm out of my grip, but I pushed it against her chest and held her there, my captive audience. "You are a jerk, Spencer. I'm trying really hard to get good grades and all you care about is beer and women." Her hoarse whisper made me want to laugh, but the way her lips moved, her tongue sliding across the lower lip anxiously, made me want to kiss her.

I pried my eyes from her lips and looked back into her eyes. "I care about a lot of things, not just beer and women."

"Yeah? Well tell that to Ms. Blonde Bimbo at the library. You sure dropped me like a hot potato as soon as she walked in." Her chest heaved, and her eyes narrowed.

"Oh, is that it? You're jealous?" I couldn't help the snicker that escaped. She squirmed, looking down a the way my hand wrapped around her tiny wrist. As I followed the line of where her eyes went, my eyes caught a glimpse of her red, lacy bra, peeking out from beneath the neckline of her t-shirt. "You want to hit this, Kate?"

"No, gross." She squirmed again, writhing to get away from me. I wasn't hurting her, and I never would. It was just fun to watch her confront what she was actually feeling.

"You want to see what it's like to kiss me? Want to feel what those 'blonde bimbos' feel when I fuck them?" I pressed my hips against her. I wasn't hard, but I wasn't soft either.

I'd thought about it a hundred times, kissing her. She was the one untouchable woman in my life and for good reason. Her brother would kill me. And another good reason was, she wasn't throwing herself at me. Every woman threw themselves at me; every woman wanted to get in my pants. But not Kate. Kate had a head on her shoulders. She was focused, determined--off limits. And for that reason she was the biggest temptation in my life.

"Spencer, let me go." Her voice was firm, no longer a whisper, and I released her arm. She didn't move, except to lower her arm to her side. Her tits now on display, her shirt hanging low, I swallowed hard. My cock was throbbing, at risk of rising to full attention.

"Have you thought about it?"

"Thought about what?" she snapped, her hateful tone returned to a harsh whisper immediately.

"What I said..." The alcohol made my brain fuzzy. I didn't even remember what I'd asked her already. All I knew was she was dangerously close to me and I wanted things I was not allowed to have.

"You mean, to kiss you?" Her voice softened, her tongue drawing over her bottom lip again. If she did that one more time I was going to take it, damn the consequences.

"Yeah, to kiss me." I rested my forearm over her head on the fridge and leaned in. "Have you ever thought you'd like to--"

A door upstairs opened and shut, then footsteps creaked on the steps. Curt was awake and coming down. Kate looked up at me, not answering, but that damn tongue trailing along her lip--god, what I wouldn't do to taste it. My dick was very firm now, still pressing into her thigh, but I pushed away and walked toward the coffee maker to start a pot. There was no way I was going to sleep now. If I shut myself into my room I'd end up touching myself and thinking of her and that would lead to nothing good.

Kate remained plastered against the fridge looking flustered as Curt entered the kitchen. His phone was pressed against his ear and he looked afraid. I leaned against the counter and watched him pace, Kate still in what appeared to be shock. Her hand pressed against her chest, then pulled her shirt up.

"Yeah... okay. You sure? I can come now.... Alright... Yeah... I love you too, Aunt Betty." Curt clenched his phone in his hand and looked at Kate. "Mom's sick. She's in the hospital. Pneumonia, but they found a spot on her lung."

"What?" Kate's hand fluttered to her mouth.

My arousal was instantly gone. My body tensed. I stood straighter.

"What did Betty say?" She looked pale, weak. She moved toward Curt who wrapped her in his arms.

"They think it's cancer. They have to do tests. Betty only called this early because Mom finally fell asleep. She wasn't going to tell us until she had results." I heard the emotion in his voice and knew this was a family moment. I felt stuck. I cared about these two people, but my head wasn't right. I could only stand there and watch as Kate burst into tears, comforted by her brother, wishing it was my arms around her. Not his.

Chapter 7

... six months later

The music was obnoxiously loud like always, but this was one party I wouldn't miss. Curt got accepted to his post-grad program and Spencer had been invited to Columbia's elite medical program. I was proud of them, and even though back home things were a little rough with Mom and her cancer treatments, I had stuck out my freshman year.

I milled about, avoiding the partygoers who'd already had far too much to drink. I needed to stay sober to keep an eye on them, but that didn't mean I didn't want to celebrate with everyone. I just didn't want any more furniture destroyed.

"Look, look! It's House Mom," someone called and it drew a round of laughter. I did that to myself, really, all those times I hovered and tried to shut their parties down. Spencer stood up for me this time though, probably just in a good mood because he go into med school.

"Leave her alone. Hey, Kate, come over here." He waved his and at me to come closer so I did, confused. Curt stood near him, and he grabbed Curt on the shoulder and turned him to face me. "Yo, Brett, take a pic of us."

The guy named Brett, whom I hadn't met before today, had an expensive camera hanging around his neck, and he'd been snapping pictures of the party since he got here. "Sure, Spencer. Just get in there." He held his hands up and gestured for us to move closer so I stood next to Curt, smiling. "No... you're not close enough."

I glanced nervously at Spencer who stood between me and Curt. He was looking at me too, but Curt was in his own world, trying to get his girlfriend to scoot closer to him. Spencer hooked his hand around my right hip and pulled in as Curt moved closer to his other side. The way he pressed me against his body was uncomfortable because after months of living with him, I had such a crush on him.

"This okay?" he whispered in my ear, his hot breath sending a jolt of energy down my spine. I pursed my lips and nodded, forcing a smile at the camera. Brett pointed it at us and pushed the button but nothing happened. He scowled and looked down at the viewer.

"Just a sec, guys," he mumbled as he fiddled with settings.

Spencer's thumb rubbed up and down my side, pushing beneath my floral print top. I liked it, probably a little too much. I should have been talking myself down, reminding myself that he was a player and this was just his game. Even though Brett wasn't paying attention, no one moved. Curt's teeth were busy clawing across his girlfriend's neck, and Spencer leaned down and whispered in my ear again.

"You smell fucking amazing." His nose lingered in my hair for a second, but not long enough for Curt to notice anything was happening. And when he pulled me against himself, I felt his package pressing into the back of my thigh. He was aroused, which made me aroused.

I rested my hand on his, and held his thumb still so he couldn't continue to brush against my hip bone. If he didn't stop, I'd be in trouble. Luckily for me, Brett's camera was up on ready, pointed at us. "Alright, now I got it. Smile."

I didn't have to be told. The grin on my face wouldn't leave if I asked it to. Unfortunately, neither would the heat in my cheeks. Brett took a few pictures and went on his way, and Spencer let me go, but he winked at me as I backed away. I nearly tripped over someone's foot--stuck out behind them as they knelt to take the bong. I wanted to go in the bathroom and compose myself before Curt asked me why I was so flustered.

As I rounded the corner, I heard Jack say, "Out of booze. Who's doing the beer run?"

I hovered there, waiting to hear the response. Someone turned the music down and I heard Spencer say, "I'll go. I haven't had that much."

Something inside me leapt into action before I had a chance to think it through. I walked back around the corner with my hands on my hips. "No, you're not driving anywhere. You've been drinking."

The partiers in the living room booed and hissed, and Spencer smirked at me. "Alright, House Mom--" he tossed his keys at me "--you drive then. But I have to buy since you're not old enough."

"But-- I..." I caught the keys and looked around the room at the people laughing at me. Taken by surprise, I felt a lump forming in my throat. Curt laughed right along with them.

"Oh and get the good shit. Not that light beer," Curt chided, slapping Spencer on the back. Obviously, he was completely unaware of what had transpired during the photo op and now I would be forced to be alone with Spencer for at least thirty minutes.

Spencer took a collection of cash from people who donated to the cause and I followed him to his truck out front. I'd never driven a truck before, only my tiny sedan, but my desire to keep everyone safe overrode my brain in that split second, and I'd volunteered. It couldn't be that different than a car, right?

I climbed in and fired it up, adjusting the seat, mirror, and steering wheel to fit my smaller body. I buckled my seatbelt, expecting Spencer to start up a conversation, but his nose was buried in his phone. It was better that way. At least he wasn't bringing up the way his dick got hard just putting his arm around me for a photo.

I drove to the liquor store and waited while he went in. I wasn't allowed in anyway, being under twenty-one, so I scrolled my phone while he got the goods. When he came back with two shopping carts and one of the cashiers to help him load the alcohol from the carts into the bed of the truck, I knew I was in for a loud night of partying, and thought to myself how thankful I was that I didn't have any tests to study for.

The cashier took both carts back into the store and Spencer climbed in, slamming the door. He put his elbow on the door and smirking at me.

"What?" I asked, reaching for the key to turn the truck on.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't start the car." I sat back, wondering what he was doing. The lingering feeling he was aroused by me played at the back of my mind, but it came to the very forefront when he asked, "Are you a virgin?"

I squirmed uncomfortably. "Why?" Conversations like this made me uncomfortable anyway, but when they were with a guy I liked, it was mortifying. Yes, I was a virgin because I didn't think sleeping around was healthy or beneficial. I self-pleasured, but when I gave away my virginity, I wanted it to mean something. To be with someone I cared about.

"Oh, I was just curious." His smirk widened, as if he had me figured out. I hated that. Hated that he thought he knew me, my type, what I wanted, just because I was a virgin.

"Well, technically, yes."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He leaned toward me, scooting closer. His arm stretched over the back of the bench seat and toyed with my hair.

"I've done other stuff..." The way his finger brushed over my shoulder made my skin burn. My groin was achy; I knew if I used the toilet there would be a lot of moisture there to wipe away.

"Tell me..." He brushed a hair out of my eyes, pushed it around my ear.

"Um... I made out with a few guys before. Let one touch my boobs..." It took everything in me not to shudder as his finger traced over my bottom lip. He was talking softly to me, not the way Spencer normally talked to me. It was awkward and intense, but I loved it. The air was thick, charged with sexual tension and chemistry I knew he felt too.

"You should stay that way until the right guy comes along." He pulled away, resting his hand on the headrest behind me.

"What if I don't want to stay a virgin?" Oh my god, why did I say that? I scolded myself internally. Spencer was the last guy I should be offering my virginity to, but he was the only guy I'd ever wanted to give it to. I just hated that he probably carried a dozen or more women as trophies of cherry popping goodness.

"What are you saying, Kate?"

"Maybe you could..." I bit my lip and looked down at the steering wheel. I felt shame creeping in. Why would he want me anyway? I wasn't his type. He liked blonde bimbos, not smart girls with their heads on their shoulders. And I was shy, not the type to put myself out there, while those women hung all over him. That was what he wanted. And his answer surprised me.

"Well, that's a very bad idea for three reasons."

I looked up at him. "What are they?" I asked defiantly. If he was rejecting me, I at least wanted an answer as to why I wasn't good enough.

"One, I don't take V-cards. And two, you are my best friend's little sister, so... Off limits." He ticked them off on his fingers and all I could think about was grabbing his hand and sucking them, proving virginity did not mean inexperience. I restrained myself.

"That's only two reasons." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"And three--" he dropped his hand to his lap and brushed his thumb over the bulge there "--my cock is way too big for someone's first time."

My pussy hurt. It physically screamed at me to go home and get my dildo out of it's hiding spot and fuck myself. My eyes were wide; I couldn't hide the surprise or the arousal and I didn't want to.

"See when you look at me like that, it' makes me want to fuck your tight little pussy, and spoil you for anyone else." His smirk returned and so did his finger, brushing my shoulder.

I felt terrified and electrified at the same time. I swallowed hard. "Maybe I want to be spoiled." I stared at his thumb as it brushed his board shorts. His dick danced beneath his touch, as if he were twitching on purpose to draw my attention toward his crotch. Then his finger pressed under my chin and forced me to look up at him.

"You're turned on by me?"

"Yes..." I choked out. There was no point in hiding it.

Spencer leaned in closer, cupping my cheek and pulling me toward himself gently. His lips brushed over mine lightly. I felt him scooting closer to me. I kissed him back unabashedly. I rested my hand on his chest and felt the firm muscle. I knew he and Curt worked out together. I'd seen him shirtless many times, but I'd never touched him and my fingers were on fire. He pulled away, but his eyes searched mine from only centimeters away.

"Can I taste you?"

"Um... what?" I asked, a bit confused.

"Your pussy... Can I taste it?" The way his words came out in a gravelly whisper made my body tense. I wanted that so bad; he had no clue. But I was frozen. Staring into his blue eyes like a deer in headlights.

"Uh..." I swallowed again. "Yes."

Spencer's hand reached for the fly of my shorts, his eyes locked on mine. He never looked away. With practiced ease, and only one hand, he unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts. I shivered as his hand, cold from carrying the chilled beer, slid against my skin beneath my panties. He didn't comment on the lack of hair there; I shaved for personal hygiene. But he did grunt slightly as his fingers slid across my clit and into my valley. I felt the sticky moisture there since that picture, but his reaction was so goddamn pleasing I almost came from watching the lust haze over his face.

"You're wet."

I nodded and bit my lip.

"I did that."

I nodded again, not able to speak. His hands pushed between my soft folds, massaging my clit. I wanted him so bad, my pussy screamed at me.

"Spread your legs."

I obeyed, though it was challenging in the current situation. I never thought I'd be having any sort of sexual encounter in the front seat of a pickup truck in a parking lot of a liquor store, but there I was, letting Spencer stroke my pussy and make me twitch. My body jerked lightly beneath his fingers.

"It feels good?"

"So good," I moaned. My lips craved his. They were only inches away, but he didn't lean in to kiss me again.

"I'm going to make you come now." He said it more as a statement than a question and that was fine by me. I would not protest. His fingers felt amazing just slipping around in my juices. I didn't want him to stop. I nodded again and whimpered.

"Can I put a finger in you?" he asked this time, politely, but I could see the hunger in his eyes. I wanted to reach for his dick, put my hand down his pants and stroke him, but at this angle I knew I couldn't reach.

"Yes... please...." I was panting now, feeling so aroused by him that if he really did finger me I'd probably squirt and ruin my fucking shorts. And when he pushed his thick finger through my slit and up inside me, I shuddered. My jaw dropped; my eyes closed. "Fuck..."

Spencer's hand rubbed against my clit as he pumped his finger into me. He'd done this before. I could tell. I didn't' care. God, it was so amazing I wanted more. I wanted to ask for more, to beg for his dick, but not here, not in this truck. It was like he read my mind, though, pushing a second finger into my pussy. The heel of his hand ground against my clit as he fucked me, and I was undone.

Convulsing and spasming around his fingers, all I could do was let the guttural grunts of pleasure out. My stomach tightened; my shoulders jerked. I bit down on his shoulder and he whispered in my ear, "Good girl."

I'd never experienced anything like that in my life and my body felt like a puddle of melted ice cream, dripping everywhere. He must have enjoyed it too because when I was finished, he took his hand out of me and licked his fingers clean. I watched him. I expected a triumphant smirk, but it wasn't that. His eyes were hungry. He wasn't satisfied. He wanted more. But I didn't want it like this. I slowly buttoned my pants and composed myself, saying nothing.

I started the car, put it in gear, and drove back to the house. While I drove, my mind raced. I was giddy with afterglow but still so fucking horny. As I pulled up, Spencer said, "You taste amazing."

I turned to him with a smart comment in mind, but his lips brushed over mine again. I tasted myself on his tongue, and then he was gone--climbing out of the car to unload the beer. Curt came running out of the house and I slid from the driver's seat with a stupid grin on my face.

"What the hell took so long?" Curt asked, reaching into the bed to get a case of beer.

"Ah, Gabe's was out. We had to go to the Thrifty across town." Spencer snagged two cases, not even looking my way as I rounded the back of the truck and helped them carry more in.

"Dude, you know that hot chick from advanced chem?" Curt already had his case open and a beer in hand.

"Yeah?" Spencer asked. He opened the door and barged into the house and was immediately swarmed by thirsty partygoers.

"She's here. Let me introduce you," Curt told him, gesturing toward the living room.

I let someone take the case of beer I carried in as I watched Spencer follow Curt across the room to yet another dumb blonde. I stand there feeling confused and hurt. He acted like he wanted me when we were alone, but the minute we're back home, he's off to flirt with someone else again. The woman stood and walked her fingers up his chest as she smiled at him and said something I didn't hear. He glanced at me and winked, then turned back to her, resting his hand on her hip.

My heart sank. Had he just played me? Then moved on to another woman? Upset, but not wanting Curt to know what happened or have his party spoiled, I went upstairs to sulk. Maybe it was just because Curt was my brother and Spencer's best friend. He didn't' want to let Curt know he was attracted to me.

So I got my phone out and texted Spencer.

Kate 7:17 PM: I'm in my room, alone, touching myself, if you're interested...

I hit send and watched the progress bar until it was full and the indicator read "delivered." I continued watching the screen until the indicator beneath the message said "read." Then I waited. Three dots appeared for a moment, and my heart raced, waiting to see what he'd say in response. Then the three dots disappeared, and my heart was crushed.

I should have just stayed home. Or maybe I should have gone home to be with my Mom. I didn't deserve this.

Chapter 8

It was a hot day, May's sunshine beating down on the modest backyard pool. Women milled about wearing practically nothing, just the way I liked it. But I'd had my eye on one particular ass all day. I'd only seen her a few times, but now she stood talking to Jack, probably the biggest douche in this place, and I knew douches. Her back was to me, but with a body like that, I knew she was the one I wanted to take home when this thing fizzled out and everyone was too drunk to swim.

I sipped my beer, distracted by some loud conversation going on beside me. Pierce, the guy who owned the place, was betting another guy he could take six beers in a bong faster than him. I shook my head at the ridiculousness of it. A few weeks ago, I'd have been on my knees with them, but something about getting into medical school made me realize I had to start growing up. I was allowing myself this last hurrah before I forced myself to get sober, get honest, and work hard. Med school would be ten times harder than my bachelors.

I stood, deciding if I was going to convince Miss Petite Brunette with a tight ass to come home, I had to do it before Jack did. Besides, she wouldn't be as pleased with him as she was with me. I locked my gaze on that perky, tight ass and moved that direction. Her thong bikini gave me a terrific view of what I wanted to see bent over in front of me later. Her long dark hair only tickling the waistband.

Jack looked up at me as I approached, his face screwing up into a scowl. He knew the instant he saw me that I was staking a claim, and me being older and with more seniority around here, he knew he had to back off. Not to mention, no woman would ever choose him over me. He was a liberal arts major--I was heading for the big leagues.

"Jack," I said, nodding.

He rolled his eyes at me and shook his head. "Dude... really?" he asked, and straightened from his place slumped against the patio table.

I tapped the brunette on the shoulder and she turned around, slowly lowering her aviator glasses to reveal warm brown eyes. Eyes that gripped me and pulled my heart out through my throat. "Kate?"

"Hey, Spencer, I was just chatting with Jack."

My dick was halfway to hard already just thinking about tapping her ass and I had to throttle myself. Curt's sister was off limits. To me and Jack. But apparently he'd not gotten the memo. "Scram, Jack." I glared at him and he walked way pissed at me. I'd deal with him later. "What the hell are you wearing? Cover your ass up. Does Curt know you're here?"

"Pierce invited me. What's it to you?" She walked away, sipping a drink. I'd never seen her drink before. She was as straight as they came, studying, classes. Kate never did anything slightly crazy, except that day in my truck, but that was almost a month ago now. We only had days left in the quarter and she was going home after that. Why play her wild card now?

I scrambled as I followed her, looking for something to cover her with. Not only was it tempting me to do something very unholy to her, but I didn't want other guys checking her out either. Curt would hate that. I spotted a towel draped over Brett's shoulder and yanked it off as we passed. She was following Jack and that was a no no.

"Cover yourself up," I snapped, wrapping the towel around her waist. She scoffed and pushed it away, scowling at me.

"Get off me, Spencer. You're not my father." She pulled the towel away, but I strong armed her, putting it right back around her waist and leaning in close. "Does Curt know you're here? Drinking?"

"I don't need a fucking babysitter."

Just being this closer to her was dangerous. She smelled like coconut and pineapple. Her tits begged me to touch them. I held the towel in my fist, tight against her navel, but my hand wanted to slide beneath it. She was the reason I decided to go straight, to grow up. I fucked up really bad when I made her come. I knew it the second I did, because the only thing I could think about since then was finishing what I started. And that scared me.

"You need to go home."

"Make me, Dad." She rolled her eyes at me but she took the towel form my hands and held it there. "You know everyone else at this party is in a swim suit. It's a pool party. And Jack and I were having a nice time. Why did you run him off?"

"Jack is only interested in one thing," I growled, knowing exactly how that sounded as it came out.

"A bit rich coming from you," she said sarcastically. "You think I have a nice ass then?"

"What? No!"

"Then why don't you want other guys looking at it? Or is it the girls..." She smirked and sipped her blue drink. I wanted to yank it out of her hand and force her into my truck and take her home.

"Yes. I mean, no!" I was enraged at her game. "Look, I'm taking you home." I grabbed her elbow and she yelped.

"I'm not going anywhere, Spencer. Get your hands off of me." Her voice was louder than I hoped, and it drew attention. A few girls looked at me concerned so I let her go.

"If your brother sees you here like this, he will cause much more of a scene than this, and you know it."

She sauntered past me and grinned. "I'm staying so deal with it." She was tipsy, weaving in and out of the people standing around the deck. Twice I thought she'd fall into the pool and moved to catch her only to feel like a fool. She parked herself on a lounge chair by the diving board and downed the rest of her drink.

"Fine, then I'm staying with you." I sat next to her, intent on watching every single thing she did. She had no clue how predatory guys at these things could be. I should know, I was one of them.

"God, how are any guys going to come talk to me if you're around?" She lay back on the chair and put her glasses back on.

"Exactly my point." I stayed there, a sentry watching over her. I'd spent the last month trying to get her out of my head, her scent, the taste of her lips. The taste of her pussy. I shouldn't be here right now, but I didn't dare leave her alone. I was supposed to be on the straight and narrow now, onward and upward and all that shit, but I found myself so angry at the idea that she'd go home with any of these idiots that I couldn't leave her.

I sat there long enough I thought I'd get sunburnt if I didn't lotion up, but no guys came over. It was a relief to me, but I could tell she was pissed. Several potential scores walked up to me and flirted. I was too irritated with Kate's behavior to notice much, but every single woman who approached seemed to enrage her more. She spent several minutes crossing and uncrossing her arms, huffing, and snorting out hot breaths before she stood.

"I'm ready to go now if you can pull yourself away from all the fawning bimbos." She crossed her arms over her chest, the towel falling to her feet. She swayed as she stood there, still tipsy.

I dangled my keys in front of her and said, "Let's go." I could take her back to the house and let her pass out, then get back here to find someone willing to put me out of my misery one last time before summer quarter started.

"Where is Curt anyway?" she asked.

"Out with his girlfriend for dinner. Because that's the type of shit you do when you are a couple. Now let's go." I let her lead the way, which was a horrible mistake. I was fighting a boner already, and watching her ass sway with each step made it worse. It made it hard to concentrate on driving, and I almost side swiped a car when trying to parallel park.

I followed her into the house, ready to just ditch and run, and she headed straight for the fridge. "Kate, no more to drink," I said, trying to protest, but instead of stopping her from opening the fridge, like the idiot I was, I stood there and watched her bend over right in front of me. The string of her thong rode right up her ass, and I was drooling. She stood, turned around with a cold beer in hand and smirked at me.

"See something you like?" she asked, prying the bottle opener off the fridge. Her head bobbed, gesturing at my crotch where I knew my dick stood on end. She tipped the bottle up and took a long gulp, half the bottle.

"Don't play games with me, Kate. I'm going to my room." I turned to go, marching up the stairs, but I heard her following. My attempt to get away from her so my dick could deflate wasn't working. All I had wanted was one last fling to call it a year. Why didn't she just leave me alone?

I walked into my room and tried to shut the door, but she was there, lingering. I clenched my jaw and moved into the room. She followed me, finishing the beer. She was bold when she was drunk; I'd give her that. She dropped the empty bottle in the trash can by the door and leaned on the door jamb.

"That you might want one last look before I change." The way she stood there, seductively, hand twirling her long caramel hair, I wanted to pin her against that door and fuck her brains out.

"You need to go, Kate." My chest as tight but my cock was as hard as it gets.

"Doesn't look like you want me to leave." Again her eyes were on my crotch. There was no hiding the fact that I did indeed want her to stay. She moved toward me, untying the strings for her top. The material swished over her skin, falling to her feet. Her perfect, erect nipples stared at me, taunting me.

"Well I do," I choked out. I was fighting billions of years of primal instinct bred into me. The visceral need to rEmmage her throbbed in my groin, thrumming in my ears, compelling my hands to reach for her, but I restrained myself.

"You sure?" she asked, draping her arms around my neck. Her tits pressed against my stomach, my cock against hers.

"What are you doing?"

"Finishing what you started I the truck a month ago..." Her lips tasted my chest, teeth nipping at me. "Salty... yum." She smirked at me.

"This is not a good idea."

"Just shut up and fuck me." Kate rose up on her tiptoes as I lowered my mouth to hers, claiming a kiss that sealed my fate.

Chapter 9

Spencer kissed me hard, his teeth biting down on my lip. I tasted copper, his kiss so violent it broke the skin. I moaned as his hands cupped my breasts, finger and thumb pinching and twisting a nipple.

"You know, I've been dreaming about this for a long time," he murmured, his breath hot in my ear. "That sweet pussy of yours, I've been aching to have it in my mouth, around my cock, all of it."

"Could have fooled me." I tugged at his shirt, forcing it upward until his mouth left mine and he pulled it over his head.

"You know nothing."

"Really?" I asked, struggling with the string of my bikini bottom. "Because you've been avoiding me for weeks."

I was on a high, his kisses intoxicating. His hand slipped past my waistband, sliding beneath my thong. His finger pushed into my pussy, an inch, then two. I moaned, rocking my hips against him, trying to get him deeper. He pulled away, giving me a wicked grin.

"You're so fucking wet. What are you thinking about?"

"I think you know," I whispered, gasping as he shoved his finger completely inside me. I finally managed to untie the string and the bikini bottom fell to the floor.

He pinched my clit between his fingers, the pressure sending a shock of pain-laced pleasure through my body. He thrust his fingers inside, so hard and deep I screamed. "Oh, now you complain? Didn't hear you complaining in the truck." He toyed with me, twisting my clit then sinking his fingers into me. It was incredible, teasing and tormenting me.

"Why were you avoiding me?"

"I was avoiding this."

"Why?" I sucked in a breath as he found my sweet spot, rubbing it and spreading my juices between my thighs.

"Your brother is going to kill me." He covered my mouth with his again and I groaned into him as I felt my body tensing for orgasm. My moans became louder, my hands clawing at his wrist, until he stopped.

He pulled his fingers out of me and leaned away. I thought he was going to tell me to leave again, but he didn't. "I've been dreaming about this moment for weeks now, Kate." He trailed wet kisses down my neck and then sank to his knees. His lips found the sensitive skin between my thighs. Hands reached around and gripped my bare ass.

"Oh fuck..." I braced myself on his head as he ate me, sinking his tongue between my folds. I forgot all about my brother, about why I was there, about everything except the man between my legs. I cried out as his tongue found my clit and then sucked and nibbled. I rode his face, my hips gyrating until my knees buckled.

"That's right, I'm going to make you come." He nipped at my inner thigh, the sensation sending a lightning bolt up my spine.

"Oh my God." Suddenly I was so desperately craving him, his dick in me, the idea of him taking my virginity. I wanted that. I wanted him. As his tongue licked me and his teeth nibbled, I thrust my hips against him, searching for his mouth.

His tongue dived into me, and I moaned as I felt his teeth graze my clit. The sensation nearly caused me to tip over the edge, but he stopped again. "What the..."

He held my legs, pushing them wider apart. I dug my fingers into his hair, desperate for more. He chuckled, the vibration sending a thrill through me. "I'm going to make you come so hard." His body. My god, his body. A musk of sweat and cologne, my fingers ran through his hair I was overwhelmed and on the edge.

Spencer pushed two fingers into me and I moaned, my orgasm coming faster than I thought. I convulsed, clenching around him and panting. If Curt came home we'd be fucked. The door was open, and all I wanted was Spencer's cock in me.

"Shhh..." he soothed me, nuzzling my pussy with his nose, his tongue darting in and out. He slid his fingers out of me, and I thought that was it, but he didn't stop. He continued to lick me, every fold and crevice until I was ready to come again. Finally he stood and kissed me, his tongue sweet with my juices.

"Come on."

"Where?" I panted, loving the way his arms and chest felt against me. I wanted him to fuck me, to make me come again, but he had other plans.

"I'm going to fuck you right here."

"Here?" I held on to him, my legs still weak.

"Here," he confirmed, pulling me to the hall.

"I need you inside me."

"No." He pulled away, his fingers slick with my juices. "I want you to wait for me." He stood and pulled me against him, his mouth claiming mine again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, his erection pressing against my thigh.

I wasn't going to wait. I wanted him, expected him to take my virginity. He obviously wanted me, and now that I'd had a little appetizer, I needed more. I tried to shove my hand down his shorts, but he grabbed it, stopping me. I groaned, my head falling forward onto his shoulder.

"I said wait." With a hand on the small of my back, he nudged me toward the banister.

"Can we just do this?" I whispered in his ear. "I don't want to wait, I want you to fuck me now."

"No," he whispered into my ear, pushing me face forward over the banister.

I gasped as the cold wood touched my heated skin. My arms were above my head and my ass was up in the air. I wiggled my hips, my body desperate for his touch.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Because I want you to remember that you wanted this. Don't be mad at me later because we didn't wait."

I bit my lip, trying to hold back my groan. His words should have calmed me... I should have been happy that he was finally admitting to wanting me, but I only felt frustration.

"Do it," I growled, my head pressing into the wood.

"No."

I grabbed one of the rails and yanked hard, the wood creaking in protest. I was about to do it again when his hand met the small of my back, his fingers caressing my skin. I arched my back, he was right there. I thought he was going to spank me, but he didn't. I couldn't see him, just felt his hot breath in my ear, his sweaty skin across my back.

"I want to touch you, but I can't. Not yet."

My heart started beating double time and I had to work hard to swallow, my mouth dry. I didn't want him to touch me. I wanted him to fuck me. But he was right, I didn't want him to take my virginity that way. I let out a shuddering breath and relaxed against the railing, giving in to his demands.

"Good girl." He ran a finger down my spine, over my buttocks, the backs of my thighs, stopping at my knees. He was looking at me, I could feel him staring at me, but I couldn't see him. I could only see the stairway carpet beneath my feet. He nudged my knees further apart and a whimper escaped my lips.

"I know you think you're ready, Kate. I know you're scared because it's your first time, but I want you to know that I'm going to make it good for you. I want to make you feel good." His words made me cringe. I tried to focus on anything else but the slow trickle of desire that started in my toes and worked its way up was torture.

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

"No." I knew I sounded petulant, but I didn't care. How could he possibly do what he was promising? He wasn't even touching me!

His fingers toyed with my sex, sliding in and out of me like moments before. I hissed, my head falling forward as shivers ran through me.

"I know you don't believe me because we haven't officially started yet, but you need to believe it. It's going to hurt like hell, then it's going to feel like heaven."

I heard rustling, him removing his shorts. Then I felt something slide between my legs. His dick. He wasn't kidding; it was huge. I tried to relax, but I was sure he was going to split me in half. He moved it around until it slid against my clit. I moaned and rocked my hips back and forth to try and get him in me, but he backed away.

"If you don't stop that, I'm going to fuck you."

I moaned again, wiggling my hips.

"I want to go easy on you," he hissed. "If you don't stop moving, I'll hold you down and fuck you whether you are ready or not."

I froze and he slid his fingers in and out of me, rubbing them over my clit while he positioned his dick. The tip brushed against my entrance and I cried out, high and sharp.

"Don't hold anything back," he growled into my ear. "Scream if you need to."

I did, I screamed as the tip of his dick just barely slipped inside me. Tears prickled the corners of my eyes as it stretched me. I felt like I was tearing.

"I tried to tell you my cock was too big for a virgin, but you just had to put your tits in my face."

It took my breath away. Then it hurt. His fingers were back, circling my clit, adding to my pleasure as he pushed in. I started to relax; my body started to give in to him. I clenched around his thick, throbbing girth. He was as massive as he claimed, but now that he was in it felt good. I started panting.

"Don't." He smacked me on the ass, making me cry out.

"Why not? You're touching me." I pushed back against him.

"No. You don't get to come until I say so."

I whimpered. I didn't have much experience with this, but I knew I wouldn't last long. I hadn't felt this much pleasure in my life. I didn't want to wait. I wiggled my ass, trying to get him to move, but his stubborn ass stayed there toying with me. When he did finally start thrusting into me, my knees buckled. I was dangling over the banister with his hands gripping my hips.

I moaned loudly as his thrusts became harder. He fucked me mercilessly, the pain and pleasure mixing in my veins until I couldn't tell one from the other. My eyes got heavy and I could feel myself getting close. I didn't know how much I had left in me. I was exhausted, spent and sore in a way that had me reeling.

The orgasm hit me like a punch to the gut. I screamed, my hands falling from the banister. I clenched down around him, my orgasm so intense it was almost painful. He thrust into me one last time and I felt the hot splash of his seed deep inside me. He panted against my neck and gave a few jerky thrusts before his arms were wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly.

He pulled out of me and I started to collapse, but Spencer was there, catching me. He held me against his body and I could hear his heart pounding in his chest. When I finally regained my senses, I tried to move away, but he didn't let me. In fact, he didn't even speak.

"What are you doing? Aren't you going to say something?" I asked, my chest still heaving. He let me go, backing away. I was new to this, but I was fairly certain that he should have said something--anything.

"This was a huge mistake." He bent to retrieve his shorts and I instinctively covered myself with my arms.

"What do you mean a mistake?" My legs were weak and alcohol clouded my thoughts, but I was hurt by the insinuation that I was a mistake.

"What did you think was going to happen after this? Kate, your brother will kill me." He stepped into his shorts and pulled them up, tucking his still-hard dick back into them.

"But I..." My chest tightened, I felt tears welling up. I pushed past him into his room and grabbed my bikini.

"Kate, wait..." He followed me but I was so upset, when he tried to touch me I smacked him hard across the face.

"Don't touch me," I snapped, not even shy about the tears streaming down my face.

He grabbed my wrist and stopped me. "Kate, it would be the end of my friendship with Curt. You have to understand that."

"Let go of me," I sobbed.

What had I thought was going to happen? I wrenched my arm away from him and ran to my room, slamming the door. I collapsed onto the floor, leaning against the door. I was just another notch on his belt. I hated him. I hated this town. I wanted to go home.

Chapter 10

I heard Kate moving around upstairs and sat at the kitchen table drinking my cup of coffee. All night I slept fitfully, unable to get her out of my head. I knew it the instant I pulled out that I had fucked up bad. My gut churned at the thought of Curt finding out, but god was the sex off the charts. She wasn't like the other women I'd slept with. Sure, she was hot, but those women had something to prove. They'd dress or act in a way they thought was sexy just to get my juices flowing.

Kate? She'd done nothing but be herself. No pretense, no act. Her pussy was so tight around me I came faster than I thought possible. And I always made the woman I was with come, but her--I wanted it to be amazing for her. By the sounds of it, it was. I just hated that I'd crossed that line. That the thing that was most special to a woman I'd taken from her in a fit of passion. Yeah, she'd thrown it at me, but she was different. She was special. It wasn't supposed to be that way for her.

The stairs creaked and I sat straighter. I'd gotten dressed before coming downstairs today. There was no sense in flaunting my body around her after yesterday's events. I'd thought about her a billion times, and I'd seen the way she acted around me--like she wanted to flirt but was restraining herself. Now, with everything in the open, it was dangerous for either of us to play that game.

Kate walked around the corner and headed straight for the coffee pot. She moved slowly, and I couldn't tell if she was sore or sleepy. My cock tingled just thinking about how arousing it was that I'd fucked her so good she was still sore. I had to stare into my coffee mug to avoid checking her out. She had no idea how fucking sexy it was to see her in boy shorts and a t-shirt. No other woman could pull that off the way she did.

"Good morning," I said, still looking down. She didn't respond.

I was an asshole. I knew that was what she was thinking. It had to be After she ran off crying like that I tried to follow her to her room, but I heard her sobbing and knew she needed space. I hadn't meant to upset her so badly. That was my fault. I could have let her down gently, explained to her how she was going home to care for her mother for the summer and I'd made a promise to Curt that I wouldn't ever even think about her like that.

And I'd taken her virginity--had the tinge of blood on my dick when I pulled out to prove it.

"Coffee is nice and hot." I looked up and watched her doctoring her mug up. She liked one cream and two sugars. I'd memorized her morning routine without trying. Sometimes I was dressed and ready to fly out the door to class. Other times I was just waking as she was preparing to leave. We always passed by each other though.

After she had her coffee fixed up, she took two slices of bread and put them in the toaster. I didn't have to watch to know what she did next. Plate, knife, butter from the fridge. She'd get a pinch of cinnamon and her breakfast would be complete. Of course, it wasn't just regular bread, it was protein bread made from almond flour. A complete breakfast to her, that I picked on her for about once a month. It didn't feel right picking on her this morning.

My heart was conflicted. I felt stir crazy, like if I didn't make things right with her, the whole world would stop. She was leaving in three days to go home. She'd be gone for eleven weeks. I couldn't go that long with this weight on my chest. The guilt, the shame. I needed to apologize.

So I stood, leaving my coffee, and thus my buffer, sit on the table. I walked over to the counter where she worked and leaned against it, pressing the heels of my palms on the counter behind me. She worked on her breakfast as if I didn't exist, buttering the toast, sprinkling the cinnamon.

"Look, Kate, I need to say something to you." She remained silent, ignoring me. "I'm really sorry for--"

"Just don't." Her head snapped up and she glared at me; then she picked up her toast and coffee and walked to the table, slowly again. I watched her wince as she sat and knew she was in pain. Again, my groin stirred. I'd done that to her, and I wanted to do it again and again. And what the hell was my problem? I scowled at myself and followed her to the table and sat with my coffee, sulking.

I never cared about any other woman like this. Not once. Not ever. They were in my bed then out of my life the next morning. So why was this fucking me up so bad? Was it just fear that Curt would find out? I didn't think so.

"I'm going home," she said quietly. Her head was drooping. She picked up a slice of toast and had a bite, chewing it methodically.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I wanted a chance to say I'm--"

She glared at me again. "I said don't." After a look like that, I didn't dare bring it up again. I could see how tired she looked, the fact that she'd been crying maybe even this morning. I didn't know if it was her mother or what happened between us, but my heart felt like a lead weight. I was respectful with the woman I had sex with, and I always protected them, asked for their consent. But this felt different. Like I had somehow committed a horrible grievance against her.

"I'm leaving today." She turned her face back down and took another bite of her toast.

"What? Why? You have three days left."

"Oh, now you want me to stay?"

The words slapped me, and I had to bite my tongue. She had a way of making my temper flare even when she didn't want to. Or maybe she did want to. I certainly deserved it. I wondered if she'd told Curt she was leaving sooner, or about what happened. I wondered if she was running away because I had hurt her, or if she really was just worried about her mother.

"She's sick again. The first treatments were okay, but the cancer is back again and I'm going now to take care of her."

How could I argue with that? Her mother had breast cancer. They were fighting hard to keep it from spreading further. It was already in her lungs six months ago, and they got it to shrink, but that wasn't always a promise that it would go away. I knew that.

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Kate."

She eyed me and then her eyes popped up as Curt entered the kitchen behind me. I hadn't even heard the stairs, but I heard his slippers shuffle on the linoleum. "S'up," he mumbled as he passed by me, slapping me on the shoulder.

"Just having breakfast," Kate told him, staring at me for a moment before looking back at her plate.

"Mom called me, woke me up. She said make sure you get to the airport on time? You're going home today?" Curt poured a cup of coffee and turned around to face us.

"Yeah. Just need to get out of here now. Too many things on my mind that I need to forget. And Mom needs me."

I winced. I was the thing she needed to forget, and now my tongue was tied. I couldn't say a word because Curt was right here with us. He sucked his coffee in through his teeth and stretched one arm over his head. "What time is your flight?"

"Two hours." Kate ate more toast, and every bite she took felt like a piece of my heart being eaten alive.

"I'll be ready." Curt shuffled off toward the stairs and I knew this was my last chance. I'd go shower and change and head to my final class, and Kate would be gone.

"Look, Kate, I really think we should talk before you leave."

"We have nothing to say to each other, Spencer." She stood, carried her half-eaten breakfast to the bin and tossed it, then set her plate in the sink and carried her mug with her to the stairs. She lingered in the doorway for a moment as if she were going to say something to me, then her shoulders slumped and she disappeared up the stairs.

All I could think was how I lost my chance to tell her what I felt. I didn't know what was wrong with me.