The Score
Page 2
“I just want advice.” I swallow hard. “So please, tell me what to do. Should I ask Tracy if I can crash in her room?”
“No, you don’t want to be in Bristol if Sean’s wandering the halls. Maybe Megan—no, wait, her new boyfriend is in town this weekend. They’ll probably want to be alone.” Hannah sounds thoughtful. “What about Stella?”
“She and Justin just moved in together last week. They’re not going to want a last-minute houseguest.”
“Hold on a sec.” There’s another long pause. I hear Garrett’s muffled voice, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. Then Hannah is back. “Garrett says you can stay at his place this weekend. Dean and Tuck will both be there, so if Sean figures out where you went and drops by, they’ll kick him to the curb.” The murmur of voices fills the background again. “You can sleep in Garrett’s room,” she adds.
Indecision flashes through me. I mean, this is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m considering letting Sean drive me out of my own dorm. But my mind is flooded with images of him pounding on my door. Or worse, pulling a Say Anything and standing outside my window with a boombox. Ugh, what if he plays the Peter Gabriel song? I hate that song.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” I ask.
“Yup. Totally fine. Logan’s texting Dean and Tucker right now to let them know. You can head over any time.”
Relief trickles through me, along with a pang of guilt. “Put me on speakerphone? I want to talk to Garrett.”
“Sure. One sec.”
A moment later, Garrett Graham’s deep voice comes on the line. “Clean sheets are in the linen closet, and you might want to bring your own pillow. Wellsy thinks mine are too soft.”
“They are too soft,” Hannah protests. “It’s like sleeping on a soggy marshmallow.”
“It’s like sleeping on a fluffy cloud,” Garrett corrects. “Trust me, Allie, my pillows rock. But you should still bring your own, just in case.”
I laugh. “Thanks for the heads up. But are you sure it’s cool? I don’t want to impose.”
“S’all good, sweetheart. Just bat those big blue eyes at Tuck and he’ll cook you up a nice dinner. Oh, and Logan’s ordering Dean not to hit on you, so you don’t have to worry about him perving you out.”
Yeah, right. Dean Heyward-Di Laurentis is the biggest flirt on the planet. Every time I see him he’s trying to get in my pants. And I can’t even feel special about it, because he tries to get in everyone’s pants.
I’m not worried, though. I know how to handle Dean, and Tucker will serve as a good buffer between me and his horndog roommate.
“I really appreciate this,” I tell Garrett. “Seriously. I owe you one.”
“Naah.”
Hannah speaks up. “Text me when you get there, ’kay? And then turn off your phone so Sean can’t harass you.”
Did I mention how much I love my bestie?
I hang up feeling immensely better. Maybe it’s smart to get out of the dorms for the weekend. I can view it as a nice little retreat, a few days to clear my head and regroup. And as long as Tucker and Dean are around, I won’t be tempted to call Sean. We need a clean break this time. No contact whatsoever, at least for a few weeks. Or months. Or years.
Truthfully, I don’t know if I’ll survive this breakup. I’ve loved this guy for years. And Sean does have his sweet moments. Like all the times he showed up at my door with soup when I was sick. And when he—
Backslide alert!
Alarm bells wail in my head, alerting me to my stupidity. Nope. Not letting myself backslide. It doesn’t matter that he was capable of being sweet—because he was also capable of not being sweet, as last night proves.
I square my shoulders and walk faster, determined to stick to the game plan. Sean and I are over. I can’t see him or text him or do anything that places myself in his path right now.
Day One of my Sean-free existence has officially commenced.
*
Dean
It’s Friday night and I’m sprawled on my living room couch, sipping a beer while two blondes—two very hot, very naked blondes—suck each other’s tongues in front of me. My life is awesome.
“Best night ever,” I drawl. My gaze is glued to the trajectory of Kelly’s hands as they glide toward Michelle’s perky tits. Kelly squeezes, and I groan. “Would be even better if you ladies brought the party over here.”
They break apart breathlessly, laughing as they glance my way. “Give us a reason to,” Kelly teases.
I arch a brow, then reach down to grip my rock-hard dick. I give it a slow pump. “This ain’t reason enough?”
Michelle is the first to sashay toward me, her tits jiggling and ass swaying as she climbs into my lap and presses her mouth to mine. A second later, Kelly is nestled at my side, her warm, soft lips latching onto my neck. Je-sus. I’m so hard it hurts, but these two goddesses are determined to make me beg for it. They torture me with kisses. Long, drugging kisses and wet, wicked tongues, strategic licks and gentle bites designed to drive me wild.
I’d like to say that this dirty little threesome of ours is a new experience for me, or that the manwhore label my hockey teammates have slapped me with has been an exaggeration. But it’s not, and the label is spot-on. I like to fuck. I fuck a lot. So sue me.
I grunt when Kelly’s fingers circle my shaft. “Christ. How did I get so lucky?”
“You haven’t gotten lucky yet,” Michelle says, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. “You don’t come until we do, remember?”
She’s right—I’d made a promise, and I intend to keep it. Contrary to what my asshole friends believe about me, sex is all about the woman for me. Or in this case, the women. Two beautiful, eager women who are not only into me, but each other.
Hey, heaven? Dean Di Laurentis here. Thanks for letting me visit.
“Well. I guess I should get started then,” I announce, and then I lower her onto the cushion and bring my mouth to her breasts.
I capture a nipple and suck hard, and her hips buck off the couch as she moans. A shadow crosses the corner of my eye. Kelly bends over beside me and licks Michelle’s other nipple. Oh sweet Jesus. I groan loud enough to wake the dead.
Kelly peeks up to smile at me. “Figured you could use some help.” Then she kisses her way down Michelle’s flat stomach toward the juncture of her friend’s thighs.
“No, you don’t want to be in Bristol if Sean’s wandering the halls. Maybe Megan—no, wait, her new boyfriend is in town this weekend. They’ll probably want to be alone.” Hannah sounds thoughtful. “What about Stella?”
“She and Justin just moved in together last week. They’re not going to want a last-minute houseguest.”
“Hold on a sec.” There’s another long pause. I hear Garrett’s muffled voice, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. Then Hannah is back. “Garrett says you can stay at his place this weekend. Dean and Tuck will both be there, so if Sean figures out where you went and drops by, they’ll kick him to the curb.” The murmur of voices fills the background again. “You can sleep in Garrett’s room,” she adds.
Indecision flashes through me. I mean, this is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m considering letting Sean drive me out of my own dorm. But my mind is flooded with images of him pounding on my door. Or worse, pulling a Say Anything and standing outside my window with a boombox. Ugh, what if he plays the Peter Gabriel song? I hate that song.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” I ask.
“Yup. Totally fine. Logan’s texting Dean and Tucker right now to let them know. You can head over any time.”
Relief trickles through me, along with a pang of guilt. “Put me on speakerphone? I want to talk to Garrett.”
“Sure. One sec.”
A moment later, Garrett Graham’s deep voice comes on the line. “Clean sheets are in the linen closet, and you might want to bring your own pillow. Wellsy thinks mine are too soft.”
“They are too soft,” Hannah protests. “It’s like sleeping on a soggy marshmallow.”
“It’s like sleeping on a fluffy cloud,” Garrett corrects. “Trust me, Allie, my pillows rock. But you should still bring your own, just in case.”
I laugh. “Thanks for the heads up. But are you sure it’s cool? I don’t want to impose.”
“S’all good, sweetheart. Just bat those big blue eyes at Tuck and he’ll cook you up a nice dinner. Oh, and Logan’s ordering Dean not to hit on you, so you don’t have to worry about him perving you out.”
Yeah, right. Dean Heyward-Di Laurentis is the biggest flirt on the planet. Every time I see him he’s trying to get in my pants. And I can’t even feel special about it, because he tries to get in everyone’s pants.
I’m not worried, though. I know how to handle Dean, and Tucker will serve as a good buffer between me and his horndog roommate.
“I really appreciate this,” I tell Garrett. “Seriously. I owe you one.”
“Naah.”
Hannah speaks up. “Text me when you get there, ’kay? And then turn off your phone so Sean can’t harass you.”
Did I mention how much I love my bestie?
I hang up feeling immensely better. Maybe it’s smart to get out of the dorms for the weekend. I can view it as a nice little retreat, a few days to clear my head and regroup. And as long as Tucker and Dean are around, I won’t be tempted to call Sean. We need a clean break this time. No contact whatsoever, at least for a few weeks. Or months. Or years.
Truthfully, I don’t know if I’ll survive this breakup. I’ve loved this guy for years. And Sean does have his sweet moments. Like all the times he showed up at my door with soup when I was sick. And when he—
Backslide alert!
Alarm bells wail in my head, alerting me to my stupidity. Nope. Not letting myself backslide. It doesn’t matter that he was capable of being sweet—because he was also capable of not being sweet, as last night proves.
I square my shoulders and walk faster, determined to stick to the game plan. Sean and I are over. I can’t see him or text him or do anything that places myself in his path right now.
Day One of my Sean-free existence has officially commenced.
*
Dean
It’s Friday night and I’m sprawled on my living room couch, sipping a beer while two blondes—two very hot, very naked blondes—suck each other’s tongues in front of me. My life is awesome.
“Best night ever,” I drawl. My gaze is glued to the trajectory of Kelly’s hands as they glide toward Michelle’s perky tits. Kelly squeezes, and I groan. “Would be even better if you ladies brought the party over here.”
They break apart breathlessly, laughing as they glance my way. “Give us a reason to,” Kelly teases.
I arch a brow, then reach down to grip my rock-hard dick. I give it a slow pump. “This ain’t reason enough?”
Michelle is the first to sashay toward me, her tits jiggling and ass swaying as she climbs into my lap and presses her mouth to mine. A second later, Kelly is nestled at my side, her warm, soft lips latching onto my neck. Je-sus. I’m so hard it hurts, but these two goddesses are determined to make me beg for it. They torture me with kisses. Long, drugging kisses and wet, wicked tongues, strategic licks and gentle bites designed to drive me wild.
I’d like to say that this dirty little threesome of ours is a new experience for me, or that the manwhore label my hockey teammates have slapped me with has been an exaggeration. But it’s not, and the label is spot-on. I like to fuck. I fuck a lot. So sue me.
I grunt when Kelly’s fingers circle my shaft. “Christ. How did I get so lucky?”
“You haven’t gotten lucky yet,” Michelle says, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. “You don’t come until we do, remember?”
She’s right—I’d made a promise, and I intend to keep it. Contrary to what my asshole friends believe about me, sex is all about the woman for me. Or in this case, the women. Two beautiful, eager women who are not only into me, but each other.
Hey, heaven? Dean Di Laurentis here. Thanks for letting me visit.
“Well. I guess I should get started then,” I announce, and then I lower her onto the cushion and bring my mouth to her breasts.
I capture a nipple and suck hard, and her hips buck off the couch as she moans. A shadow crosses the corner of my eye. Kelly bends over beside me and licks Michelle’s other nipple. Oh sweet Jesus. I groan loud enough to wake the dead.
Kelly peeks up to smile at me. “Figured you could use some help.” Then she kisses her way down Michelle’s flat stomach toward the juncture of her friend’s thighs.
