Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Those seven days had gone by fast, though. He’d been ridiculously busy. Moving his stuff in, going to classes, getting the last of his school supplies. Not to mention chapter obligations, practice, and time he’d carved out for his friends—his homeboys from high school. His four-pack. Ned, Tad, and Jay—aka Goldie Locks.
Tonight, however, hadn’t been one of those carved-out times. Tonight, he’d spent with his frat bros getting wasted. It’s just what they did. Drink. Then drink some more, until the booze was all gone. Or everyone passed out. Whichever came first.
The party had been great. Libations flowing. Hot chicks galore. Ned would be so fucking jealous.
Breck smirked.
Then frowned.
In actuality, Ned wouldn’t be jealous. He’d be on the floor laughing his ass off. Because when it had come time to score with the sweetest piece in the house, Breck hadn’t been able to get it up. He’d been way too drunk.
Nikki hadn’t been happy. God, those luscious lips… Relentless as they’d tried so diligently to get him hard. Which he appreciated. Her efforts had been admirable. But the room had been spinning, and his face had been tingling. He might’ve even called her the wrong name. Next thing he knew, she was huffing from the room.
Ten seconds after that and he’d passed out cold.
In fact, the only reason he was even remotely conscious now was because he’d really, really, really needed to piss. His stumble back and forth to the bathroom had been a challenge.
What time was it anyway?
His room was still black.
Early morning, probably. Three or four.
Against the far wall, Charlie snored like a beast in his and Jegs’ bunkbed. The guy had some serious sinus issues. Although, in truth, his blood-alcohol level probably wasn’t helping. Had drunk so freaking much, he’d actually puked.
Breck reached for his water bottle, still feeling inebriated. His hangover was going to be wicked. He rolled onto his stomach and shoved his hands under his pillow—then groaned. Just great. Now he had a boner. Never should’ve thought about Nikki’s mouth.
Face against the pillow, he closed his eyes and rocked his hips. If only she was there now. He’d happily turn that pouty frown upside down. Would fuck that hot little mouth, then pound her into the—
Something creaked in the darkness.
He stilled.
What was that?
The door? The wind?
Probably just Charlie turning in bed.
But just as Breck’s hips fell back to their slow-and-sleepy grinding, he felt his mattress dip down by his thigh. He stiffened, but before his sluggish brain could react, a warm, heavy weight settled atop his body.
“What the—”
“Shh. Don’t freak out.”
The husky slur sounded familiar, but Breck was drunk and the guy was whispering. He couldn’t tell who it was, much less what his intentions were. A quick little middle-of-the-night hazing, for all he knew.
“What are you doing?” he grunted irritably.
Across the room, Charlie sawed louder.
“I needed to see you,” his visitor rumbled.
Breck frowned in confusion. “Why?”
A moan. Then the guy rocked his hips.
Holy shit.
He was hard as a rock.
Breck swallowed and shifted beneath him. Even drunk, he could do the math. The mystery dude sprawled atop him had come for sex.
His heart shot to racing. And what do you know, his own dick responded in kind.
“Who are you?” he rasped.
Mystery man chuckled against his ear. “Try the bro you were staring at all night.” He growled and rocked his hips again. “Drove me fuckin’ crazy.”
Staring at? All night?
Breck hadn’t realized he’d been doing that. Sure, he’d stolen some glimpses of the guys once in a while, but otherwise, all the ogling went to the ladies. Or at least, he’d thought it had.
His brain churned. This dude was heavy. Most likely a varsity senior. And of those, the one he’d checked out the most was most definitely… Socrates. There was just something about him. Those eyes. That cut body. His wry smile. Those short, sexy dreads…
Mystery man snagged Breck’s ear between his teeth. “Let’s fuck,” he whispered with another grind.
Shit. Breck’s dick twitched. He sucked in a breath. Definitely Socrates. That motherfucker always cut straight to the point. Jesus. This couldn’t be happening. “Are you… serious?”
“Yessss,” the senior groaned. Lord. His breath reeked of beer. “I swear I won’t tell anyone… It’ll be our little secret… You just… make me so damn curious… Wanna know what it’s like.”
Join the club. Breck had wanted to know, too. Had been brooding over that initiation letdown for days.
What if this was just another prank?
No. Socrates was serious. Breck could feel the proof of that fact against his ass. Raging boners of those proportions, no man could fake.
Restlessly, Breck rocked his hips, so damn drunk and now so horny. “But Charlie,” he rasped.
Socrates stifled a laugh. “Can you not hear him? He won’t wake up.”
“And Jegs?”
“Passed out and snoring on the couch downstairs.”
Meaning the coast was officially clear.
Breck hesitated, mind whirling, heart hammering in his chest.