Too Easy Page 3

  “You okay?” he asks me again with a broad smile like this is funny.

  But this isn’t funny. The cups fall from my hands like I’m watching in slow motion.

  “Whoa,” the guy says, some part of me dimly noticing he’s tall. And he’s right in front of me to catch me as I tip forward. I know that I’m falling. I’m aware of it, but then it all goes black. I can hear him for a moment, asking if I’m alright and calling for help.

  I guess that makes it okay, so I give in to sleep. Help is coming.

  They’re Running

  There are times in life when you run towards something.

  And there are times you run away.

  Neither choice is shameful.

  But either way, you’re running.

  Chapter 5

  Allison

  Five years later

  Fourteen boxes.

  Packing and unpacking fourteen boxes takes a toll on the body. And my shoulders are sore; my core feels like it’s on fire.

  But I’m here.

  I actually went through with it.

  I hear them first, as I round the building that houses all of the equipment for the fields. The bleachers come into sight and then the men I came to see.

  My hips sway a little more than before, my lips tilting up into a half-smile even though my heart races.

  I glance at each one, taking them in, as the sweat glistens off their backs and chests. Most of them only have on a pair of gym shorts ranging from blue to black to red. Their laughter drifts across the field as they huddle around the small area where all their gear is laid out.

  Rugby players. Seven of them, to be exact.

  It’s just a hobby team for the university, and most of these guys don’t take it seriously. Which is why there’s no one here. I knew they’d be here though, practicing and putting all their goods on display.

  A small hum slips from me as I spear my hand through my hair and let the wind push it out of my face and off my shoulders.

  It doesn’t take long for one of them to notice me walking a little closer than I should.

  After all, the field backs up to woods and the only reason I’d be walking out here is for them. And now they know it.

  The guy closest to me tilts his chin up as he asks, “What’s going on?”

  The rest of them quiet down as I walk up to the bleachers and take a seat, letting my bag fall into the grass and rest against the metal. I’m in jeans, so I spread my legs just a bit as I lean forward, my body language suggestive but also relaxed. “I just came to see the game,” I say sweetly and let my eyes roam from the tall blond with broad shoulders, to the darker brunette with a tattoo sleeve down his left arm.

  “No games today, sweetheart,” a man says at the far end of the group, but I don’t turn to look that way.

  “It’s always a game,” I tell him back. “I’m Allison,” I say with a flirtation in my voice.

  “Well, hello,” the closest man, the blond, says and walks closer to me, taking a seat to my left but far enough away that I’m still comfortable. “I’m Jared,” he tells me.

  “I know,” I say and then bite down on my lower lip. “Jared the badass,” I tell him, quoting his nickname from the website for the team, and then move my gaze across the remaining six men. “Michael has the beard,” I say to the brunette and then add, “Don’t shave it or I might forget.” That gets a laugh from them.

  I finally take a look at the guys on the far right. I expect to feel a certain way, but my gaze is caught, trapped by a beast of a man. His eyes pierce through me, pinning me in place. It takes a moment for me to even register any other defining feature. I can practically feel his sharp jawline covered in stubble that would be rough to the touch. His hair that’s nearly black and just long enough to grip at the top, but shorter on the sides.

  His broad shoulders… that could trap me under him.

  “I don’t know yours,” I tell him, feeling my heart race a little harder. My body heats with the way he looks at me.

  There’s something different about him. The air is tense around him. And I’m grateful for the distraction.

  “Dean,” he tells me and his expression stays hard. I’d almost say cold, but that’s so wrong. There’s a heat there, a heat of defiance. And something else. Or maybe that’s I’m imagining it.

  He’s the type of man that gives you chills while making everything else that matters hot.

  The kind you know you’re supposed to stay away from because they’ll ruin you without thinking twice… The kind of man my dreams are made of.

  My cheeks heat and a small smirk lifts Dean’s lips, as if he could read my mind. As if it’s what his dreams are made of too.

  “We were just finishing up practice,” Jared says and I nod as he adds, “We’re getting ready to go party.”

  “Damn, I was really looking forward to your practice,” I answer him with a pout, finally ripping my eyes away from Dean.

  “You want to come?” Jared asks me and I shake my head before taking a peek at Dean, who’s still watching me with that heat in his eyes. “Come on, I know you do,” he teases and the playfulness in his voice makes me smile. He’s cute in a classically handsome way, but that’s not what I’m after.

  “Not today,” I answer him, my voice coming out a little smaller than I’d like.

  “Suit yourself,” Jared says and stands up, walking to where he’s laid his bag on the ground. “If you change your mind, come on down to Broom Street.” He smiles with a warmth that’s inviting. “It’s going to be fun,” he adds.

  A few guys let out a rough laugh, deep and low. “You’ll know which house is us,” one of them says.

  I keep finding my gaze drifting toward Dean’s and each time that intense stare is on me. I didn’t come here for him. A little flirtation here and there is all I was aiming for, but the way he looks at me is doing something to me that I can’t deny.

  He’s bad for me. But I can’t help what I want.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading the prologue to She Asked for It. Want more? Keep turning the pages for a sneak peek ahead …

  She Asked For It

  Don’t judge a book by its cover.

  You’ll tell me you don’t… but you already think you know what my story’s about.

  * * *

  You have no idea.

  Just like the people sitting in this courtroom.

  She asked for it. That’s what they keep saying.

  * * *

  And no, it’s not because my skirt was too short or I was drunk at a party.

  It’s nothing like that. It’s because of what I like and how I like it.

  * * *

  They’re judging me as I sit in the front row, my eyes drawn to the man on trial.

  If I’d known it was going to end like this, I never would have gone home with him.

  But he’s the type of man I just can’t say no to.

  * * *

  I wanted to feel his lips kiss down my neck.

  I dreamed of running my fingers along the rough stubble on his jaw.

  I craved his hands on me, pinning me down.

  I needed to whisper his name in the dark, late at night.

  * * *

  You still think you know what happened? You don’t.

  He’s innocent and I enjoyed every second I was with him.

  * * *

  Let me tell you my story… all about how I asked for it.

  Preface

  Allison

  From the moment I laid eyes on Dean, I knew he’d be trouble.

  I didn’t anticipate this though.

  I didn’t expect to let it go this far.

  I didn’t want him to be a casualty of my obsession.

  Someone to my right clears their throat, and I look down the row of people. A woman looks back at me; she’s older with graying hair and a thick sweater that climbs up her neck, practically swallowing the frail woman. She holds my gaze, narrowing her eyes and thin
ning her lips into a flat line.

  I know what she’s thinking. What they’re all thinking, and it makes me want to throw up.

  She asked for it.

  They have no idea.

  No one does.

  Not even Dean, as he sits on trial.

  They can judge me because I deserve it.

  If I could go back, I would.

  I close my eyes and try to hold back the tears, the pain. Every moment that led us here is another chip at my armor. Picking away as the moments flash before my eyes.

  When I open them, I see Dean looking back at me, through the haze of tears scattered on my lashes.

  I’m so fucking selfish, and that’s what pushed me over the edge.

  I knew Dean would be trouble. A kink in my plans perhaps, but I didn’t think I’d fall in love.

  I justified using him. I craved his touch so much that I pulled him into my web.

  “I’m sorry,” I mouth the words and Dean’s expression slips.

  They’re right when they say I asked for it.

  I didn’t just ask for it, though.

  No, no.

  I fucking prayed for it.

  Chapter 6

  Dean

  * * *

  I like how she’s acting like she doesn’t recognize me. The way she twirls the pen in her brunette curls, looking up at the professor and then slips the tip of that pen between her teeth.

  Fucking tease.

  Her name’s Allison. I love the way it slips off my tongue.

  I didn’t look twice at her the first day we sat in this room. But I noticed her when we crossed paths in the building next door, the one with the cafeteria. And I noticed when she started walking away from campus and toward the houses down Connell Street, only two blocks down from Broom.

  The tiny glances and the subtle way she shifts her thighs each time she sees me … that got even more of my attention.

  Maybe it’s the curve of her waist or the way her lips are almost always just slightly parted. But something drew me to her and now the idea of her on her knees in front of me as I make her lips open wider with the head of my dick is all I can think about.

  Maybe it’s just because Chem 201 is boring as hell.

  Or maybe it’s because Little Miss Allison looks like she’d be down for a dirty fuck, but she’s avoiding me at all costs.

  Like right now. How she knows I see her. She’s got to know I want her.

  But all she’s doing is slipping that pen across her bottom lip, making my dick twitch with need.

  “And you?” the professor asks, his voice directed this way. I’m one row behind and two spots to the left of Allison. I’m pretty sure that’s what she said her name was yesterday.

  “I’m sorry?” she asks Professor Grant. My lips curl up into a smile, although I hide it behind my fist as I lean my elbow against the desk. Yeah, I know I’m getting to this broad.

  “What’s the constitution of the nucleus of an atom?” he asks her and my brow raises slightly. We’re only five days into the semester and this class meets Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Week one is too fucking early for this shit.

  “Electrons and neutrons,” she answers hesitantly.

  “Wrong,” the professor’s voice rings out and Allison purses her lips. The pen in her hand taps on the textbook as the class know-it-all pipes up in the first row, not even waiting to be called on.

  Apparently, it’s protons and neutrons, not that I give a shit.

  I lean over, feeling my weight push into my ribs as I lean across the metal bar.

  “Maybe you should pay attention,” I whisper, and she finally looks at me.

  She gives me a side-eye with a slanted smile and I give her a charming smile back before letting my weight fall into the seat and relaxing.

  She looks over her shoulder after the professor turns his back to us, ranting about something he’s scribbled on the chalkboard.

  Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she blushes, peeking at me and then once again pretending to pay attention to him and not me.

  I know she didn’t recognize me yesterday on the field; I’ve been sitting in the back of this classroom, but I recognized her. She’s fucking gorgeous, confident… doesn’t know what’s in an atom though. I smirk at the thought and pretend to give a shit about what’s on the board when Professor Grant turns back around and looks right at me. I even nod for his benefit.

  The desk groans as I readjust in my seat and get another peek from Allison when the lecture continues and his voice drones on.

  Not a lot of women approach a group of men with confidence. There’s a shyness but a playfulness in this one I like. It’s something I want to explore and judging by the way she acted yesterday, compared to how she was in class the last two days, quiet and reserved, I’m guessing she’d like to explore some shit too.

  The large, simple clock above the door ticks by so damn slow as I wait for the class to end. Every time Allison puts that pen into her mouth, my dick gets a little harder. She lets it roll down her bottom lip and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t doing it on purpose.

  By the time two o’clock hits, I’m hard as fucking steel.

  I stay in my seat as everyone packs up around me, my eyes still on my prey.

  As she closes her book, she deliberately avoids my gaze, again. I know she is.

  “I thought you’d be shy, you know?” I tell her as the person to my right leaves, blocking my view of her for only a moment. She slips the heavy book into a backpack and zips it up, all the while looking at me with an expression that tells me she doesn’t know how to answer.

  “When I saw you the last two classes,” I tell her and then close my book, “you seemed shy and not at all like you did yesterday.”

  “Is that right?” she asks, tucking her hair behind her ear and setting her bag back down on the floor. She turns in her seat to face me and says, “I didn’t know we had a class together. I guess it was just nerves.”

  “You didn’t look too nervous yesterday.”

  “Why do you say that?” she asks me, but there’s a spark of mischievousness in her eyes. It makes my smile widen.

  “It seemed like you wanted something particular.”

  “And what would that be?” she asks me. I notice how her chest rises and falls with her shallow breathing.

  I lean forward and lower my voice. “Can I tell you something?”

  “What?” Her lips stay parted just slightly and she stares at me with curiosity.

  “I called dibs when you left,” I tell her. It’s not true. After she left, her hips swaying and a small bit of that shyness returning when she saw me watching her fine ass walk away, all the guys were talking about was how much ass they’re gonna get in college.

  Her ass, any ass. It doesn’t matter to them.

  “Did you really?” she asks me and then shakes her head like I’m ridiculous.

  They don’t get this ass. Not until I get my fill first.

  “Yeah,” I tell her and look around the now-empty room. “Where’s your next class?” I ask her.

  “I don’t have anything else after this,” she admits.

  “Me neither,” I tell her and she throws her head back, laughing.

  “You’re such a liar,” she says, calling me out on my shit with a voice full of humor. Her genuine smile grows and that beautiful pink colors her cheeks. “You want to get in my pants that bad that you’d miss your next class?”

  My adrenaline spikes. “How’d you know?” I ask her.

  “Your schedule’s right there,” she mocks me and rolls her eyes. She grabs it off the desk and verifies that she is, in fact, right before tossing it back to me.

  “It’s right next door and you’re going to be late,” she says confidently and stands up, swinging the backpack over her shoulder.

  “It can wait if you want to get out of here,” I offer her.

  “You’re shameless,” she says and then she grips the strap of her book bag and asks
me softly, “You think I’m that easy?”

  “I think you want it; you might be afraid to get it though.”

  Her expression slips just slightly, so quickly I almost don’t see it and I second-guess my approach. “I think you know what you want,” I speak clearly and wait for her light green eyes to reach mine. “I fucking love that.”

  “Oh, yeah?” she says, her confidence returning and the space between us heating again. The tension between us thickens as I stand up, closing the small space that separates us. She stays still, letting me get close enough to touch her.

  “Yeah, and I know what I want too,” I tell her and lean forward, so fucking close, but she turns her shoulder to me, brushing against my chest and arm as she walks away, leaving my heart beating hard.

  “Well, right now, I want to go home, Dean,” she says over her shoulder.

  “Love the way you say my name too,” I tell her and she pauses in the doorway. “I can make it sound even better when you scream it.”

  She throws her head back and lets out a feminine chuckle. “You really are shameless.”

  “We have a game thing tonight,” I say quickly before she can leave. It grabs her attention and she looks back at me. “On the field. Nothing big, but you should come.”

  “You inviting me to your game?” she asks me with a hint of a smile. It makes her happy; I can tell.

  “I’m going to win you over,” I tell her, picking up my bag and following her out of the room. “I know you want me,” I tell her, cocky as fuck.

  “We’ll see,” she says softly, letting her eyes roam down my chest to my cock, then back up to my eyes. “Not today though. Get to class,” she commands and her voice hardens.

  “Bossy,” I tease her as she turns left. I debate following her. But now’s not the time. She’s just the right mix of shy and curious, but also confident and sexy as fuck. I watch her disappear before turning right to go to my next class. “Alright, Allie Cat, round one goes to you,” I say lowly, under my breath.