Living With The Player

CAMILLA RENÉE

CAL-U.

MONDAY.

SEPTEMBER.

“The presentations will be due in about a week. I’ll inform everyone exactly when they’ll have to do so. It will account for a significant part of your grades, so put in your best.”

Mr Tony recounts referring to the board before diving fully into this week’s lecture.

“Yes, Mr Quint?”

I swerve my head to Jimmy at the mention of his last name, then flinch.

He’s already staring and smirking.

“There isn’t a rule that states we can’t use other psychology majors for our project, right?”

“No, there isn’t. As long as you both turn in different presentations of the other.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Jimmy shoots a wink in my direction and returns to his seat.

The lecture goes on. I’m busy taking notes while my phone beeps every sixty seconds.

I can take two guesses of who that might be.

Jimmy and Mr Quint.

At the fifth beep, I dig into my tiny bag and fetch it, peaking at the screen. It’s him.

“My place or yours?”

He sent the same thing repeatedly.

Talk about consistency.

“Yours.”

I text back and tuck it away.

It’s almost as though his gaze is burning into mine. I didn’t resist.

One – the project is due soon. I can’t be slacking on my first presentation for the semester and then the obvious reasons; I’m trying to give Mr Quint a chance.

****

“Gorgeous.”

Jimmy remarks, handing me my pen. I grin back and his blue eyes twinkle in sheer shock.

“What?”

I chuckle, tucking my hair away.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You haven’t given one sarcastic comment all day. It’s creepy.”

This time, I throw my head back and laugh.

“Maybe you’ve gotten through my icy heart.”

I gesture to my chest. He beams, then drops his head.

“Really?”

His eyes snap back to mine and the distance is almost non-existent.

“Really.”

I blink back and haul my bag.

“I’ll see you this evening. Four pm sounds good?”

“Mmmm.”

He mombles incoherently.

I waltz away, feeling slightly satisfied with myself. Call me cocky, but today had gone my way. I have had no screw-ups. Yet.

****

The rest of the day went by easily. I had lunch with Miranda. I finished a series I liked. I even had time to nap. Something has distracted enough me not to wander thoughts about the other him.

At three pm, I took a shower, hurled on some makeup, styled my hair to surpass my shoulder, and searched for a casual outfit that didn’t include all black.

Miranda wasn’t in the dorms, so I shot a text and fled with my computer.

Turns out Jimmy didn’t live in residence hall A.

He also texted not to meet at his dorm. He thought housing will be more preferably. I just didn’t know whose house it was.

I’ll find out soon. I got an address and a cab. ETA in about five minutes.

On the way over, I cleared the drafts about Miranda and started one on Jimmy. Full name. Age. Hobbies I knew of. Then my notes are on the corner.

****

“Gorgeous.”

He pulled my coat over my back, urging me into the house.

“Don’t you have a room in the dorms? Whose place is this?”

“A friend. I stay here sometimes. But he’s not home now, so we have the entire place to ourselves. Water or wine?”

“Water’s fine.”

I drummed my fingers across the sofa, finding one to seat on while waiting for Jimmy.

His hair is ruffled again. More so than usual. Black sweat pants and a plain green shirt.

“Do you own a comb?”

I blurt as he plops down beside me, his laughter filling the air shortly afterwards.

“Definitely. Why do you ask Camilla?”

He smirks, then powers the computer.

“Your hair. It’s never okay”From NôvelDrama.Org.

I steal a glance, then swallow hard. He watches me knowingly, then smiles. It lasts barely a minute, yet charming.

“You have a thing for hair then. I see.”

“No fair. You’re profiling me.”

A blush makes its way to my cheeks and I huff.

“You make it easy.”

I huff again, picking up my computer and moving to the sofa across from him.

“Let’s begin.”

I switch to a less playful tone than create more categories for him. I’ll have to create a presentation on that later. For now, I need the raw materials.

****

In the past two hours, Jimmy and I take turns recounting our past. Childhood memories. First time. Reaction to events.

He ordered pizza in between and it’s much more fun. I’m half taking notes for the project and a half enjoying myself. Have a good time.

“You like clowns. Who would’ve thought.”

I chirp and sort it in.

“They always try to make others happy, regardless of how they’re feeling.”

He shoots back. I’m halfway through my laugh and a slice of pizza.

“It’s already past six.”

I announce, saving the word document.

“Yes. Yes, it is. Continue some other day?”

“Yeah. I have a few things to work on tonight. I’ll just get more later on.”

He shakes slowly, and I shut down the computer, shutting the screen.

We get up, but he walks towards me almost immediately.

“You know, I nearly forgot this was a project. Pizza. Reminiscing. Laughter. Felt like a second date.”

His grin spreads across his entire face. It’s contagious. I can’t help but smile back.

“Cocky much?”

I nudged his shoulder, bending my back, then dipping my head to grab my computer.

“I’ve only been able to think of three things throughout this evening.”

He runs his fingers through the hem of my shirt.

“Enlighten me.”

I inhale, gripping the edges of my computer, my back facing him while I stare at his window as though it was art.

“The first is how to concentrate and profile you.”

He adds, crawling his finger from the base of my shirt, then pressing the pad of his thumb against my belly.

My breathing hitched immediately.

“I’m an open book. Should be easy.”

I jerk my head, forcing a small smile even though he couldn’t see.

“What’s the second?”

“I was thinking of dropping the project altogether. Focus on listening to everything you have to say. I never want you to stop talking.”

His voice is husky enough to leave any woman throbbing. I’m any woman.

He must lean over me. I can feel his breath on my skin. Right underneath my neck if I’m correct.

“And the third?”

I blurt out, more curious than I’d like to be.

“I was thinking how plausible it’ll be to kiss you before the day is over.”

He takes one breath to snatch my computer away, not so gently thrusting it over to the couch, spinning me around, then crushing his lips over mine.

These kisses keep getting better. And better.

Both arms are crawling underneath my shirt, drawing lines around my tummy. I make a mental note of that. It’s not like I can include it in my project, but just in case.

His tongue muscles are effective, he’s dominating and I have no complaints. I take two breaths, then divulge any control I had left over to him.

I huddled my back against his sofa. Jimmy moves up against me, taking his hands off my belly and lowering them against my jeans instead.

I pull his head back against my lips and stroke my tongue against his bottom lips, pulling it between my lips.

He grunts loudly, tugging my zippers. I pull away, breathing shakily, meeting his gaze and there’s nothing but desire.

“My psychology says when she tugs away she’s trying to decide what to do, then the other option; she wants to do something herself. Which is it gorgeous?”

He lowers his body on mine, careful not to crush his weight against me, but enough to lean and flicked his tongue over my earlobes.

“Both of em.”

I whisper back, dipping my head for a kiss.

He takes my lower lip first, pulling it between his teeth, and I tug against his shirt, folding the edge between both fists.

One more push. He jerks away for a split second, tossing it over his head, then returning to me.

His lips don’t meet mine. They trace my collarbone, leaving feathered kisses. I whimper, trying to squeeze my thighs together.

I jerk my leg and wrap them around his waist instead, moaning in absolute delight.

“Consent is everything gorgeous. Where do we go from here?”

He murmurs as his lips graze my neck.

“Your bedroom.”

I answer back, locking my hands around his neck.

****

I missed the update yesterday because I’m a little I’ll. Shorter chapter today as well.

Regardless, let me know what you think in the comment section!