Play Me

Play Me

Alla Kar

2014. Copyright. Alla Kar

All rights reserved. No parts of this books may be reproduced or transmitted in any forms without written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and have not purchased it or won it in an author contest this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the ebook from one of its distributors.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storyline are created from author’s imagination or are used fictionally.

Dedication

Again—to all of my amazing fans out there!

Credits:

Photography: Lindee Robinson

http://lindeerobinsonphotography.blogspot.com/

Editor: Deanna Genung

Models: Nick Margetic, Megan George

Chapter One

Weston

“Chug. Chug. Chug.”

The chorus of my fellow
Muleriders
is growing louder and louder. A semi-circle of students have formed around me, all chanting my name and fist pumping into the air. All my blood is rushing to my head, while my fingers try to stay latched onto the wooden table I’m bracing myself on. I can’t even feel my feet anymore, which are braced on my roommate Dominique’s shoulders.

Shit, I’m so fucked up.

The Bud Light I’m chugging is scorching down my throat but leaving behind a building numbness.
I gotta be almost done.

“Come on, Sunshine. Don’t let your boy down. I got fifty on you,” Dominque yells, catching my leg before it comes tumbling off one of his shoulders.

The freshman before me didn’t finish half of his keg. The last I saw of him, he was hiding in the corner praying I didn’t finish.

I always finish. And I never lose. It’s not in my nature.

I chug in a mouth full of air and then I’m being brought down to the floor. Everything is spinning. Hard slaps slam against my back and shoulder, sending me staggering into Dominique’s shoulder. He gives me his famous
you’re so fucked up
smile and pulls his dreads out from underneath my weight.

“Weston! You are the mother fuckin’ man, bro!” Hayden yells, slamming his palm against my shoulder.
Great, this guy.
“And I swear the freshman left as soon as everyone started chanting your name. You burned him, dude.”

“Because I’m the fuckin’ man,
bro
!” I scream. I fling my hand outwards and hit the side of Hayden’s cup, splattering the rest of his beer onto his blue Phi Lamb sweater.
Who wears sweaters during August in Arkansas? You’d have to be fucking suicidal
. But that’s the Phi Lamb’s style. They’re the pretty boy fraternity. Always pressed and ironed. Ready for the next business meeting with Daddy.
Douchebags.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,
bro
. Better go get that cleaned up. It may stain,” I say.

Frowning, Hayden turns and pushes his way through the crowd toward the bathroom.

“You did that on purpose,” Dom says from beside me.

I grin over at him. “I hate that fucking guy.”

He holds his fist up to mine and I bump it. “Hell yeah,” he says. Dom gets me. More than anyone ever has. He’s played full back while I played running back for the past four years. This is our
last
year. We both promised to live it to the fullest. He protects me on the field and off. And I’ve got his back. Always. No matter what.

Dom grabs my shoulder and gives me a couple of shakes. “I have a funny feeling about tonight, bro.”

I lift an eyebrow and shove him. “What in the hell are you talkin’ about, Dom? Not this intuition bullshit again—come on, bro—,”

“Keep laughing, Garrison. I know where you sleep.”

I snort. Dom thinks he can tell when something is going to happen. “Okay, humor me, Dom. What’s going to happen tonight?” I take a small sip to keep my smile at bay and blink rapidly against the smoky room. Someone is getting stoned tonight.

He grins ear to ear. “You’re going to fall in love.”

“Now I know you’re fucking looney, bro.”

He barks out a laugh. “You’ll meet your match
eventually
.”

Stars are forming around the edges of my eyes, so I blink a few times, trying to regain my eye sight. “Well, maybe I’ll find her in the bathroom because I’ve got to take a leak.” I say, nudging Dom’s shoulder. “I’ll let you know if my soul mate is in there!”

He laughs and shakes his head while I stagger from the living room.

A girl is on the keg stand now, her bright pink panties showing. I’ve seen those panties before. Bridget? Brianna?
Brittany, yep. That’s the one with the ticklish thigh.
The hallway is cluttered with empty Red Solo cups, some clothing and I think I see a pizza box. It’s like playing hopscotch to get anywhere. The smoky haze is heavier than before and everything was already shaky. Before I get to the door someone shoves a drink in my face. “A beer for the king!” some red-haired freshman yells in my face.

Yes.
I fumble against the wall and fall into two girls making out behind me. They stumble backward away from me. “Sorry,” I groan out. I guzzle my beer for a few seconds before one of the girls taps me on the shoulder. When I glance over she smiles and gestures for me to join them.

I’m dreaming.

I take a step forward and I realize I’m about to piss on myself. I groan. “Maybe next time, sweetheart,” I whisper and trudge toward the bathroom door. It’s locked, so I bang my fists against the wood. “Open the door,” I yell.

A few seconds later Hayden comes walking out, wiping his hands down the center of his sweater. Narrowing his eyes at me, he darts off down the hallway.

Finally.
I don’t bother turning on the light, instead I unzip my jeans and place my hand on the wall in front of me. Fucking relief.

Before I can reach the sink the door swings open, the light turns on and I’m facing Rebecca. And she’s smiling at me. That smile she always gives before she …

Yep, she’s getting onto her knees. Good, girl.

“Hello to you, too,” I say, leaning my back against the counter, turning around to grab the beer I left there. Her brown eyes flicker up to mine and hold.

Her pretty pink lips open and she unzips my jeans slowly. Rebecca is always down for anything. Every party. Every phone call. She’s really too pretty to act like this, but I don’t tell her any different because the girl can suck a cock.

Pretty pink lips take me in, and suck me to the back of her throat.
Fuck me
. I interlace my left hand’s fingers into her soft blonde hair and force her mouth down lower. She moans. Which is bullshit but I don’t call her out on it. She doesn’t need to talk. Just suck.

She reaches behind me and grabs the back of my thighs forcing me forward. “That’s right,” I whisper, taking a drink from my cup. The walls vibrate from the loud music but I relax into the sound.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Occupied,” I groan out.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

What. The. Fuck
. Growling, I clench my teeth.

Bang. Bang. Bang. “
Fuck.”

Rebecca pulls away from me, her hands braced on my knees. “Sorry,” she says before standing up.

I zip my pants up and watch as Rebecca stares me down
. Oh, I’m going to rip someone a new asshole. It better be a fucking emergency. No, it better be a pregnant woman on the other side of that door.
I sling the bathroom door open and run into a girl –woman–spilling my cup of beer all down the top of her breasts, which are pretty fucking impressive.

A loud screech comes from her full lips. “What. The. Fuck!” she yells in a true southern accent. “Did your Momma drop you on the head when you were an infant? Or are you too fucked up to know who your Momma is?”

What?
She did
not
just talk about my momma. Stepping forward, I tower over her small body. “Sweetheart, now you’re way too pretty to be talkin’ like that.”

Her green eyes widen. “I’m a grown ass woman, and I can talk however I want. Now move.”

Feisty.
Raking my eyes down her body, I take in her short black dress. A lacey cutout is covering each side of her waist. She’s pretty damn sexy now that I really take a look at her. Looking up, she snarls at me.
Nope, the sexiness just evaporated
. “First, you are definitely a grown ass woman. No arguing there. But I can’t let you enter until you say you’re sorry for hurtin’ my feelings.”

A look of outrage crosses her face. Twisting her chocolate brown hair with her hands, she bites her lip hard.
Fuck my life. Can I fucking touch her? Just once?
“I’m not apologizin’ to you because there isn’t anything to apologize for. We can do this all night.”

Nodding, I rest my shoulder against the doorjamb. “Yes, baby, we can do
this
all fucking night.”

Blood rushes to her cheeks and she looks down, contemplating her next move. This she-devil does not want to apologize. “Okay. I’m sorry. Can I please get into the bathroom?”

Biting my lip to keep from smiling, I stroke my jaw. She’s fucking angry and that makes me smile. “Well, only if you promise to make up everything that I missed in there.”

Her brows furrow down and then she realizes Rebecca is still hiding behind me. “You fucking asshole!” she yells. “I’m not some slut that fucks a guy in a bathroom. And I don’t care if you are Weston Garrison I’m not having sex with you!”

“Hey!” Rebecca shouts from behind me.

Goddamn she’s hilarious.
“You know my name?” I lift my brow.

A narrowed gaze. “Move out of the way.”

Smiling down at her, I lean closer to her face. She takes a step back. “Just to let you know. I would have taken you out to dinner first.” Winking, I stagger out of the hallway.

I’m imaging the pissed look on her face when I hear, “Cops!”

What. The. Fuck.

Suddenly everyone starts scattering around like mice, running for any door or window. The sirens blare from outside but the music is mostly masking them. This isn’t my first rodeo, so I push my way to the backdoor and slip out. I stagger against the rail of the back porch but steady myself enough to make it to the ground.

A loud thump echoes from the inside of the house, and then I’m hearing the police yelling. I’m twenty-two but if coach finds out I’ve been drinking we’ll have to run drills. Not happening.

I trudge through the overgrown lawn and down the alley next to the fraternity house. A stray cat runs in front of me while I peak around the edge of the building. The yard is empty, besides all the empty cups and trash.

It’s now or never.
I make a run for it. My pickup is parked on the other end of the street, but this is where my football training comes in handy. And coach says nothing comes from partying. I disagree. I’m covered in sweat by the time I reach my pickup. A few cops are standing at the doorway now, a couple of kids in handcuffs. Most definitely freshman.

I’m down the street before anyone sees me. Taking a deep breathe, I lean against the leather and turn up my radio. The fraternity house is about ten minutes away from my campus apartment. Dom’s truck wasn’t there so I’m guessing he’s already made it home.

The glow of the gas station’s neon sign cast over the road as I slowly roll down the small road. Shakily, I turn into the gas station and freeze. A parked cop car is sitting in the far corner out of sight.
Fuck. My. Life.
His sirens come on and I cuss underneath my breath. Rookie mistake. They always have a cop positioned at the end of the road, trying to catch the runaways.

Pulling into a parking space, I park and dig through my glove compartment for my insurance. A loud tap thuds against my window and I roll it down.

The officer leans against my open window and shines his flashlight into my eyes. His handlebar mustache has food in it. Don’t blink.
Shit, am I blinking?
Why did I have to get this fucked up?

“Hi, officer. Anything I can do for you?” I ask in my best
good-boy
voice.

“Where you coming from, son?” he asks, offering his hand out to take my information.

“My girlfriend’s house on the farmer’s road,” I lie, stretching my legs out under the steering wheel.

The officer looks over my driver’s license and his eyes widen. “Weston Garrison is that you?” Jerking the flashlight to my face he squints at me. “Damn, boy. I didn’t know that was you.” He hands me my information back.
Thank you, God.

“It’s me. The one and only.”

He barks out a loud laugh. “What you got planned for this season?”