“I want to come all over your hard dick, baby,” Val urged, her eyes bright, and Henry moaned, beginning to thrust up into her hand. The whole crowd cheered and Val smiled, turning away from Cody and focusing her attention all on Henry. He gaped when she took her gum out and stuck it deliberately under his chair before taking his cock into her mouth.

  “Oh man. No fair!” Henry recognized Dean’s voice and glanced up, seeing his roommate standing in the circle, watching.

  But he didn’t have much more time to think about anything. Val sucked him until he was completely hard again, and they didn’t even get the mattress down on the floor. Instead, she climbed up into his lap, her breasts in his face, her pussy rubbing against his dick. She was very wet. She really came for me, he realized, and the thought made him crazy with lust. The crowd closed in on them, whooping, hollering, practically slobbering, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything but the girl in his lap.

  “You’ve got a gorgeous cock.” Val whispered this in his ear. “I want to come all over it.”

  Henry couldn’t think of anything he wanted more. He leaned back, letting her lead. When she reached down to grab him, rolling yet another condom on, he took a deep breath, feeling her flesh give as she rubbed him up and down her slit. He’d won the sex toy, but he’d completely forgotten about everything but Val’s body, her eyes, the soft feel of her ass in his hands as he guided her down onto his cock.

  And her pussy. Oh my god. There was nothing better. She rode him nice and slow at first and he could feel her breath, hear her soft moans and sighs. Then she really got into it, hips rolling, tongue slipping into his ear, teeth biting at his neck. He could barely hold onto her.

  “Fuck me,” she insisted, climbing off his lap and turning around to bend over a chair. He was dazed, clearly too slow to respond, because hands moved him, nudged him out of his seat, and then he was standing behind her, thrusting deep into her cunt. “Oh yeah, baby, fuck me hard! Come on! Do it!”

  He could barely breathe. She looked back at him, eyes half-closed, and he felt her hand between her legs, rubbing at her clit. Every time he thrust into her, his balls touched her there, a rhythmic sway. Henry observed his cock sliding into her, her hot pink center stretched open to take all of him, and he was lost. He gripped her hips, thrusting deep, and heard her moan loudly.

  “Make me come!” she begged, panting, fucking him back. Oh god, this was it. He was going to die. “Make me come, please, please, make me come!”

  He couldn’t hold back, not for a second. He growled and thrust and came and felt her whole pussy clamping down on his cock like a vice. Plastic pussies don’t do that, he thought, grunting with pleasure as he emptied himself completely, sure that there wasn’t an ounce of fluid left in his body to give.

  When it was over, when she turned and kissed him, long and soft and oh, so slow, that’s when he thought he would wake up. He would find himself sitting upright in his dorm room bed, sweaty and hot and hard as a rock from this crazy-ass dream and then go back to sleep only to wake and tell Dean all about it in the morning.

  But he wasn’t asleep. And Dean was standing across from him, grinning with so many teeth he resembled a shark. From the look on his roommate’s face, Henry had a sudden, sinking feeling that maybe it would have been better if he had been dreaming after all.

  Chapter Four

  The dragon-lady sat quietly sorting through papers on her desk, her door half-open. Henry hesitated in the hallway, heart beating too fast for him to knock yet. It had been racing since that afternoon, when she handed back his term paper with another big “F” marked in red on the last page and the words, “Come to my office at 3:00 p.m. this afternoon.”

  What a letdown, after the weekend of partying at the fraternity, getting clapped on the back over and over, his new fraternity brothers grinning knowingly. It still made him blush to think about what had happened, but he was also rather proud of it in a sick sort of way—especially since Dean seemed so perturbed by Henry’s win. Or more to the point, Dean’s loss.

  Henry might have thought it was all a dream, but he had a box full of porn shoved under his bed and a Fleshlight in his possession to prove it wasn’t. If he could have stopped time back then, he would have. Going back to class on Monday and facing the dragon-lady was the last thing he wanted to do.

  She knows. He could see it on her face when she handed his paper back, the slight purse to her lips, the brief flash in her eyes. She was calling his bluff. He cursed himself for not finding someone he trusted, but he had been in a hurry, the paper due, and there was just no time.

  “Henry Baumgartner.” Her voice made his stomach clench. “Come in, please.”

  There was no more putting it off. He stepped into her office, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat when she asked him to. She still wasn’t really acknowledging him; instead, she was writing with her red pen. The same red pen that had failed him. That anyone held so much power over him made him nauseous.

  “I’d like to show you something.” Professor Franklin reached over and took a paper off a stack to her left. She put it on the desk in front of him, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. Her skirt was a soft, dark green, a respectable length, but her legs were very long. He felt like a mouse trapped between her paws.

  “Go ahead,” she urged.

  He picked the paper up, staring dumbly at it. It wasn’t that he couldn’t read at all. He could pick out words. He could read sentences if he focused, guessing or skipping over the words he couldn’t figure out, but it could literally take him an hour to read a full page. And when faced with paragraph after paragraph, especially in front of an audience, his brain completely froze. The words swam in front of him and he stared up at her, mute.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” Professor Franklin crossed her arms, the cream satin-like material of her blouse stretching over her breasts. No one liked her—but every guy had talked about fucking her. She was an older woman, probably his mother’s age, but with her long dark hair and tall, curvy figure, she was the stuff freshmen wet dreams were made of.

  “Henry, do you know what that is?” She sat up, rolling her chair closer to the desk, looking at him quizzically.

  He just shrugged, hands clammy, heart galloping. He wanted to bolt, but he knew it would only make things worse. Until he could figure out what she wanted from him, it was better to stay quiet.

  “You know, I was going to keep this between us.” She tapped her fingernails on the desk’s surface. They were long and painted red. “But if this is how you’re going to act, I suppose I’ll be forced to get the dean of students involved.”

  He looked back down at the paper in his hand. There was no title page and the words made no sense. Why was she showing him this? He felt slow, stupid, and he hated that feeling, because he wasn’t either of those things. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, why he couldn’t remember the same word from one sentence to the next, but he could remember every state in the union and recite them alphabetically. He could find them all on a map, by shape and location. But he couldn’t read their names.

  “I don’t…” He cleared his throat, trying to buy himself some time.

  “Okay, let’s do it this way.” She pressed her lips together into a thin line, folding her hands on the desk. “Read it.”

  He glanced down again. His hands were trembling. His eyes scanned the page, left to right, but nothing made sense.

  “Out loud,” she insisted.

  He gaped up at her, his mouth dry, no words coming out, and finally he understood. This was his paper. Not his paper, but the paper he had purchased online and printed out and put his own name and cover page on. Of course, he hadn’t read it. He couldn’t.

  “Oh my god.” Professor Franklin’s eyes widened. They were dark and round behind her reading glasses, and even rounder in her surprise and realization. She reached out to touch him, surprising them both, her hand soft, clutching his. “You really can’t…Henry, can you read?”

  “Leave me alone!” He stood quickly, letting the paper fall, jerking himself away from her touch. He took off down the hall, ignoring her calling after him. He turned the corner and hit the door hard, opening it and gulping the cool autumn air into his over-heated lungs.

  He’d faced down teachers before. He’d lied, manipulated, apologized and weaseled his way out of a million punishments and reprimands. He was incredibly charming once he got his bearings. He had managed to convince everyone, including his parents, that he was just lazy and irresponsible sometimes. None of them had ever once guessed his secret.

  So how does she know?

  “Henry.”

  He steeled himself, not turning to face her. Why had she followed him? Why wouldn’t she just call the dean of students, report him, have him removed from class? Or suspended. Even expelled. He felt like passing out just at the thought.

  “Hey.” Her voice was soft, softer than he’d ever heard it. “Please.”

  She touched his arm through his jacket and he glanced down at her. She’d taken time to put on a long, black wool coat. He tried to pull himself together. It was time to deny everything. He opened his mouth to do just that but even spoken words failed him when he caught sight of her face.

  She was crying.

  What the hell? Nothing could have surprised or disarmed him more.

  “Henry, let me help you.” Tears streamed down her face. She cried openly, unashamed, squeezing his forearm, pleading with him. He was aghast. “Please. I can help.”

  “I don’t need your help,” he sneered. “Or your pity.”

  “Oh, no, Henry, you don’t understand—”

  He turned and ran for the second time that day, determined to escape this time. He heard the click of her heels, her calls, but then they faded and he could only hear the sound of his own heart beating, the ragged pull of his breath as he ran, ran, ran, as far and as fast as he could.

  * * * *

  “Dude, you’re gonna get kicked out of school.” Dean sat on the bed across from him. Henry just pulled the covers over his head. It was four in the afternoon and he hadn’t gotten out of bed. He hadn’t done much all week except stay in bed. He’d managed to ignore the phone—and his roommate. He’d even skipped hockey practice. Twice. Coach was probably going to kick him off the team. But it didn’t matter. Ultimately, he was going to get kicked off anyway.

  “You’re not sick.” Dean sighed. “What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

  Normally, Henry would have spilled his guts. Dean had a way of making him confess things he wouldn’t tell anyone else. But he couldn’t tell him about this. Not this.

  “Is it Libby?” Dean asked.

  Henry perked up at the sound of her name. He’d considered calling her, taking her up on the tutoring offer. But she couldn’t help him. No one could help him. He felt broken. It was too late to fix him. “I talked to her. She still wants to go out tonight.”

  “With you.” He couldn’t let Dean forget how he had usurped Libby’s attention. Was today Friday already? Had the whole week disappeared?

  “Her roommate is hot,” Dean reminded him. “And she’s on the rebound. That’s practically a sure thing.”

  “Is that all you ever think about?” Henry’s current concerns seemed huge and even the thought of Libby seemed far away in light of them.

  “Come on, Henry.” Dean sounded pissed. He’d tried a few times this week to drag Henry out of bed, but they’d been half-hearted attempts. This time he sounded serious. And mad.

  “No.” Henry rolled toward the wall.

  “But we’re supposed to meet the girls in, like, an hour!”

  Henry’s voice was muffled in his pillow. “You go.”

  “Well I can’t exactly date both of them, can I?” Dean snapped.

  “Take Bel.” He smiled at the thought. Bel could barely say his own name in front of a girl.

  “Henry, don’t be a dick.”

  He rolled back over, crossing his arms and glaring at his roommate. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to take a shower.” Dean leaned over and thwapped him on the arm. Henry winced. “You stink.”

  “You just want to get into Libby’s pants.”

  Dean grinned. “Can you blame me?”

  “Just leave me alone.” Henry rolled back toward the wall, sinking under the covers. He couldn’t. There was no way.

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to call Libby and tell her you don’t want to go.” Dean had changed tactics. “Maybe I should tell her you’ve been in bed all week. Val must’ve really worn you out…”

  Henry stiffened, turning back toward his roommate, a sinking feeling in his belly. “You’re not supposed to talk about that.”

  “Right.” Dean shrugged, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone and flipping it open. He glanced up when Henry pushed by him. “Where are you going?”

  “To take a shower.”

  * * * *

  “Now that was everything a vampire movie is supposed to be,” Libby crowed happily as they walked out of the theater. “Not even a hint of glitter.”

  Henry stole a glance over at her, walking next to Dean. He’d resented the fact that she wasn’t sitting next to him during the scary parts. She’d practically climbed into Dean’s lap a few times.

  Instead, he’d had Elaine screaming in his ear and hiding her face against his jacket. Okay, so she was nice enough, and definitely a hottie—Dean hadn’t lied about that—a pretty, petite blonde with an angelic face and big blue eyes. But she wasn’t Libby. And she kept proving that every time she opened her mouth.

  Elaine fell into step next to Henry, taking his hand and swinging it. “Hey, now, no dissing Twilight.”

  Of course she was a Twilight fan. He tried to be magnanimous. “Are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

  Libby interrupted Elaine’s response, rolling her eyes and saying, “Real men don’t sparkle.”

  “Wait. Twilight? Isn’t that the movie about the girl who can’t choose between necrophilia and bestiality?” Dean howled when Elaine punched him in the arm as he pushed the unlock button on his keys. Freshmen weren’t supposed to have cars on campus, but Dean had a black 2008 Mustang he parked at the frat house.

  “Meanie.” Elaine stuck her tongue out at Dean as Henry ushered her into the backseat. It was close quarters and cramped back there, but it meant Libby was close, even in the passenger seat, and she half-turned so she could talk to them as Dean drove through campus back to the frat house. The whole way, Elaine’s hand kept finding its way into Henry’s lap, squeezing and petting his thigh. She’d been flirty all night and had made it pretty clear she liked him. By the time Dean parked, Elaine’s hand was practically in his crotch.

  “Hey, come on in. I want to show you guys something.” Dean took Libby’s hand as they got out of the car, leading her toward the frat house.

  “No,” Libby protested, looking for support from her roommate, but Elaine grabbed Henry’s hand, following. “Dean, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Oh come on,” Dean said, literally pulling Libby up the stairs. “What do you have to be afraid of?”

  “I think Elaine and I should go home.” Libby’s eyes flashed and she glared at Dean as he opened the door.

  “But the night’s just starting,” Dean protested. “And I really want to show you guys something.”

  “Come on, Libby,” Elaine said, nudging her friend into the doorway. “He wants to show us something!”

  Libby relented as Elaine and Henry crowded in behind her.

  The house was big enough to hold thirty-five fraternity members, and they didn’t have an empty room in the place. Dean kept trying to talk Henry into living in the frat house with him the following year, but Henry wasn’t even sure he was going to be in school next year at this rate.

  There were rules about bringing girls in—but no one said anything to Dean as he led them down a hallway, past the laundry room and through the common area. There were two pool tables at one end and a huge wall-mounted television, but no one was in there tonight.

  “Check it out.” Dean opened a set of double French doors and Elaine squealed.

  “A hot tub!”

  Henry had been on the frat house tour, but somehow had missed this room. “I didn’t know this was here.”

  “They just built it over the summer.” Dean flipped a switch on the wall and the hot tub hummed to life, the bubbling water glowing, lit from underneath. “It’s not even officially open. They have to have it inspected or something.”

  “So we can’t go in it?” Elaine pouted. “What a tease!”

  “Oh hell.” Dean shrugged, then winked at her. “Want to do it anyway?”

  “Elaine!” Libby protested as her friend shed her jacket and then her sweater. Henry gaped as she unzipped her jeans and wiggled them down her slim hips. She was in her underwear so fast—a very sweet, white bra and panties with pink polka dots—that no one had a chance to say a word before she was getting into the hot tub. Henry did have just a moment to wonder if she wore a matching set in anticipation of their date.

  “Come on, Libby!” Elaine called, and Henry admired the way her panties hugged her behind, the water frothing around her thighs as she waded in.

  “If you can’t beat ’em…” Dean stripped down to his boxers and followed Elaine into the hot tub.

  Libby stood there, undecided, until Henry started peeling off his coat.

  “Really?” She kept her voice low. Dean and Elaine were splashing, laughing, and couldn’t hear them anyway over the noise of the water, he was sure.

  “You only live once, right?” He took off his shirt and saw her blink at the sight of him without one. “What are you—chicken?”

  She smiled at him. “Is that a challenge?”

  His breath caught as she pulled her hoodie over her head. She was wearing a t-shirt underneath. He raised his eyebrows as she pulled her t-shirt off. Her bra was black, and he had a moment to lament the fact that the material wouldn’t be see-through in the water before he felt the first stirrings of arousal when she reached down to unsnap her jeans, wondering if her panties matched.

 

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