Sacked Page 2

There was a major case of false advertisement going on around campus. Either these girls were seriously fucking blind, or they were smoking some of the best shit money could buy.

  Sure, he was a supposed football god among men. I’d seen one of his high school games, and even I couldn’t deny that his gridiron game was strong. I was a massive football fan, and I watched the games with my daddy every season. I knew what Sawyer was capable of on the field. Hell, even my dad became a fan of Sawyer’s when we watched him play. He couldn’t say it because of his stroke, but I could see the excitement in his eyes when it was announced that Sawyer would be the starting quarterback for the Tigers.

  I’d heard that he’d gotten even better over the summer, and I looked forward to seeing what he could do. Still, throwing arm and rushing yards aside, as far as I was concerned, he wasn’t living up to his legendary rep.

  The women, however, didn’t disappoint. I’d watched over the last few weeks as they drooled over him, their tits hanging out of their tops and their shorts so far up their asses I was sure I was seeing vag on some days. They bowed to him as if he was some kind of fucking god, and they were ready and willing to worship his big, golden god cock with their mouths.

  Again, no.

  I’m sorry, but I just didn’t see it.

  Sure, Sawyer Reed was cute in an I’m-a-fucking-douche-and-I know-it kind of way, but in my opinion, he really wasn’t all that. Then again, I wasn’t one to fall for a cocky smile and a douchebag attitude. Even if he had a hot, hard body and eyes bluer than the Carolina skies in the spring.

  Not that I dated a ton because I didn’t. With everything going on in my life, I’d never really had the time to worry about guys. Actually, I was kind of pathetic when it came to men. My friends said I was picky, but that wasn’t the case at all. It’s just that when I decided to make time for the opposite sex, I knew what I wanted and I knew what I deserved. Settling for less than that wasn’t an option.

  When I decided to date, I wanted a clean-cut country boy—homegrown and dependable with a sweet smile and a heart of gold. I wanted a guy who loved football as much as I did and had a strong sense of family. I didn’t know Sawyer, but it was obvious he was none of those things—minus his love of the game. Not even close, in fact.

  He was an athlete, which meant his hard body was obvious even through his clothes. His T-shirt strained against the solid muscles of his chest and his tattooed arms bulged as if he spent hours a day in the gym. He knew how attractive he was. I’d watched as he used his piercing eyes and size to get the attention of every woman he came in contact with. I’d seen him flash that megawatt smile of his, all while running those devastatingly blue eyes unashamedly up and down their bodies.

  That shit didn’t fly with me.

  He wasn’t my type in the least.

  There was nothing sweet about Sawyer, and it was more than obvious from where I was sitting that he was nothing more than ego and trouble in a pair of tight jeans—nothing more than a tall guy who could throw the hell out of a football and wasn’t afraid to make a dash for the end zone. I guess that was all it took when girls who didn’t know any better surrounded you.

  I knew better.

  I knew that one day he wouldn’t be a football star; through either injury or age, he would be out of the game and all that would be left behind was the man underneath his sports god persona. He’d only have his education and personality to fall back on, and neither of those were very impressive from where I was sitting.

  Despite that, I had an agenda, and that was to get close to Sawyer Reed. I needed to get inside of his brain—find out what made him tick—and get to know the man behind the football pads and helmet. I needed to get close to him, and sooner rather than later. I wasn’t sure how much time I had before things went downhill fast, and something told me despite his quick draw dick, Sawyer was going to be a hard nut to bust.

  However, I was going to go about this differently than most girls did. I wasn’t going to be a sniveling airhead just to get his attention. I wasn’t going to drool all over his cock and balls and basically thrust my vag in his face. I wasn’t that kind of girl. And while getting close to Sawyer was important, my dignity meant more.

  Lucky for me, we had Literature and Film together. Even better, after a few classes, I’d gotten his attention. I’d gone about it in a completely ridiculous way, but I’d done it.

  Mission one: get Sawyer’s attention.

  Check.

  Now all I had to do was get him to trust me.

  I grinned on my way to Lit and Film, confidence oozing off me in waves. My hair was still wet from my shower, and I’d taken the time to put on some cologne before I left for the day. I was ready to conquer the situation—the situation being Gretchen Cole.

  The plan was to start making my move. The weekend was coming, and I wanted her laid across my sheets with her long hair strewn across my pillows before Sunday. I wanted her open wide with flushed skin and swollen lips.

  Shit, I just fucking wanted her.

  Thanks to her, I’d never been so happy to sit through Shakespearian bullshit in my life. I rushed to class to make sure I got a good spot, using my height to my advantage as I moved through the crowded halls. I was determined to get a front row seat for whatever crazy shit she’d decide to pull today.

  I didn’t really have a type per se—ass was ass as far as I was concerned, but she was the opposite of the kind of girl I’d normally go after. She was hot, don’t get me wrong, but I could practically smell the virginity on her. Tight spots weren’t really my thing, and the work you had to put in afterward dodging their phone calls and “accidental” run-ins wasn’t really worth the slow, delicate screw, but it didn’t matter. I wanted her, which basically meant she was already mine.

  My eyes went straight to her when I entered the room. Her shoulders stiffened the second she saw me, but her lips tilted into a sweet grin before she looked away. She was playing coy and acting as if I wasn’t worth a long look.

  Keep playing those games, baby. I’ll break right through your defense.

  Instead of going across the room to my usual seat, I took the seat next to her and sprawled my long legs out in front of me. Her soft green eyes moved over my face, and I nodded and lifted my brow, making her snort sarcastically.

  Was she laughing at me?

  She didn’t flock to me like most of the girls, which, of course, put a big red target on her ass. Not to mention, she went to great lengths to make herself look unattractive. No normal girl would make fucked-up ugly faces when it came to me. They were always dolled up and showing as much tits and ass as possible. With this chick, it was refreshing, like a shock to my ego that I hadn’t had in a while.

  Easy girls were a dime a dozen. Maybe a virginal girl was just the challenge I needed. She could sharpen up my game and keep me on my toes. Challenges were important since they kept you from getting rusty dick. Just like any other guy, the test pushed me to conquer. I never backed down when my man card was on the line, and Gretchen had unknowingly turned herself into the challenge I needed.

  She was gorgeous—so gorgeous that I was finding it hard to believe I hadn’t already approached her. Maybe it was because she’d never put herself right in my line of sight until recently. The Carolina sun had kissed her skin, and thanks to the shirt she was wearing, I could see her sexy tan lines. She was blond with more than a handful in her bra and legs that on went for days.

  I couldn’t wait to see all that sexy sprawled across my bed panting for me. I couldn’t wait to see her lifting her hips for more as she dug her nails into my skin. My cock was getting hard just thinking about all the ways I would make her scream my name. All the ways I’d flip her, fuck her, and make her cream.

  My eyes moved up her legs, a slow perusal as I imagined them wrapped around my hips. I ended my journey at the edge of her shorts, and my fingers itched to touch the skin beyond the frayed edges of the denim. She’d obviously cut a pair of jeans to make those shorts, and
lucky for me, she’d cut them too short—just this side of indecent.

  God bless Southern girls in pearls. I was a sucker for a pair of daisy dukes and cowboy boots, and she was wearing both.

  She was leaning toward her friend, talking girl shit and giving me the best view of her lean thighs. I let my eyes wander across her flushed skin, moving up her side noticing the dark bra she was wearing beneath her light-colored shirt.

  Fucking hot.

  I stretched my fingers across my desk, knocking my pencil purposely onto the floor. A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth when the pencil hit the thin carpeting and rolled in her direction.

  “Dang,” I hissed out loud, catching her attention.

  Folding my large body over my small desk, I reached for my pencil, all the while breathing in her soft scent. She smelled like honeysuckle flowers, reminding me of my days back on the farm when I’d pick them and suck their ripe sweetness. I planned on the doing the same with Gretchen.

  “I got it,” she insisted.

  Her voice was soft and sweet with just a touch of Southern twang.

  I bit the side of my mouth to keep from smiling when she turned my way. Flipping her long hair over her shoulder, she leaned down for my pencil, giving me the perfect view of her perky cleavage.

  I didn’t take my eyes off her chest when she held out my pencil, and when I met her big green eyes she lifted a knowing brow.

  “Seriously?” she asked with an annoyed expression. “You’re just going to stare at my tits?”

  “Sorry. I can’t help myself,” I flirted.

  Again, I let my eyes flitter across her rounded mounds.

  She shook her head and chuckled before turning away. And just like that, I knew I had her. I gave myself a mental pat on the back and turned to listen to the professor.

  There were no funny faces this time. In fact, to my dismay, she barely looked at me. I stared at her so much that the chick beside her thought I was looking at her instead. Needless to say, the girl beside her probably thought I wanted her. Her name was Casey, and she was all right looking, I guess. I was in a drought, which meant I’d do her from behind if worse came to worse. I wasn’t beneath brown bagging a butter-face to bust a quick nut.

  Ugly girls need love, too.

  When class was over, I followed behind Gretchen and watched her sexy body bounce as she power-walked to her next class. Luckily, my next class was close to hers, and I had the luxury of staring at her ass the entire walk there.

  I was right behind her, taking in the view when suddenly she turned around as if she forgot something. Her body slammed into mine, and her curves pressed into me letting me know how soft and sweet she really was.

  Instinctively, I reached for her, wrapping my arms around her tiny frame to keep her from falling flat on her ass. Her perky tits pressed into my chest, and my dick twitched against my zipper.

  “Whoa, there.” I grinned down at her.

  “Sorry.” Her breath rushed out in panic as her eyes searched the ground around us. “I lost my bracelet.”

  I took in her stricken face; her green eyes full of worry, and I felt bad for her.

  Knowing it would make me late to class, I offered to help her look for it.

  “What does it look like?” I questioned.

  She wrung her empty wrist in her hand and nibbled her bottom lip, turning it a brighter shade of pink. She was driving me fucking crazy and didn’t even know it.

  “Thank you so much,” she replied when she realized I was going to help her. “It’s a silver chain with a music note charm.”

  My eyes scanned the grounds around us as I skimmed my shoe across the concrete walkway, but it was nowhere to be found. She followed behind me as we retraced our steps until we were once again in front of the English building. I was sure it was a lost cause after we’d looked up and down the sidewalk.

  I turned her way, ready to tell her I was sorry she’d lost her bracelet, but I caught sight of something shiny hidden in the blades of grass beside the sidewalk. I reached down to retrieve it, and the thin chain slipped over my fingers with the music note dangling on the end. I ran my thumb across the smooth silver, breathing a sigh of relief that I’d been the one to find it—brownie points.

  She could thank me later by wrapping her tight pink pussy around my cock. Pink payments were the best kind.

  I looked up at her squeal of delight and barely caught her when she threw her arms around my neck. My body stiffened in her grasp, feeling something awkward and unique in her embrace. I couldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t like hugging other girls.

  “Oh, thank God. My momma gave it to me a few months before she died. I’d be devastated if I lost it.” She pulled away, her eyes filling with gratitude as she looked up at me. “Thank you so much, Sawyer.”

  I knew all too well what she meant. I still had things from my mom tucked away for safekeeping. Things that made my heart ache every time I looked at them. Hell, I had a picture of her in my wallet. It was yellowing and creased, but it was my momma. I’d lose my fucking mind if anything ever happened to the things that kept her memory alive.

  I smiled down at her, just as thankful that I’d found her bracelet, and then my smile grew even larger when I realized she’d used my name. She knew who I was, and it was a major lift to my ego.

  “You’re very welcome, Gretchen.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled before she moved away from me. The front of my body cooled from where she’d heated me and my cock began to soften at her loss. Fuck, I wanted her—more than I had wanted a woman in a long time.

  Shaking myself, I quickly adjusted my aching cock and cleared my throat. She turned away; ready to jog to her next class.

  “Hey, Gretchen,” I said, stopping her.

  She squinted against the sun, her forehead wrinkled in the most unattractive way when she turned my way. Silly faces and wrinkled foreheads aside, her innocent beauty was intoxicating.

  “Yeah?”

  I pushed away those thoughts, forcing the crazy feelings out of my mind to make room for all things Gretchen and hot, tight, virginal sex.

  “I was wondering if you’re busy this weekend. Maybe we can catch a movie or something.”

  Netflix and getting my cock slick. Popcorn and panties torn.

  I’d asked without technically asking; that way if she turned me down by some chance, it was no big deal.

  Her face softened, her green eyes growing unsure, which made my confidence fall a bit.

  “I mean, just as friends or whatever. You know, just hanging out and making stupid faces. No pressure or anything.”

  What the fuck was I saying?

  Just friends?

  Did I suddenly grow a pussy?

  And if so, would it be okay for me to spend every moment of every day playing with it?

  The worry cleared her brow, and she smiled and nodded. “Sounds fun.”

  She reached into her bag, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen, and then she wrote down her cell number and handed it over.

  “Text me and we’ll set it up.”

  The paper crinkled in my fingers as my eyes took in her bubbled handwriting, her name and number big and wavy across the page. I looked up as she walked away from me, her ass bouncing in her tiny shorts making me wish I could blow off history and follow her.

  Luck was my bitch. No, seriously. I’d basically pulled luck’s hair and smacked its ass. Luck liked it. Luck wanted it. Luck was a dirty bitch. That had to be the case. How else could I describe how easily Sawyer fell into the palm of my hand?

  One minute, I was looking across the classroom at him trying to figure out how to get his attention without throwing myself at him, and the next, in a streak of brilliance or idiocy, I was making faces at him as if I was some two-year-old hyped up on chocolate.

  Whatever worked, and well, it did.

  It piqued his interest enough that he kept looking. Then he went from looking to smiling until he too was making
faces at me. I worried he would avoid me like the plague after that, but then he surprised me by sitting right beside me in the next class. His eyes roamed over my body as if I was a juicy Porterhouse steak, and I knew I had him.

  Moo, motherfucker, you’re mine.

  #Winning.

  Losing my bracelet wasn’t part of the plan, though. Actually, I’d almost had a full-blown heart attack when I realized it wasn’t jingling around my wrist where it lived, but apparently, my momma was smiling down on me. She knew what I was up to and she was helping me out.

  What I hadn’t planned on was how good it felt to be in Sawyer’s arms. I hadn’t meant to hug him, but the relief I felt when I saw my bracelet dangling from his large hand was overwhelming. I’d all but jumped him with happiness, and when his bulky arms moved around me and pulled me close, I felt safe. I hadn’t felt safe since before my dad had his stroke.

  Growing up, my daddy was a robust man who took care of everything, but after my mom’s death, that changed. I watched him fall into depression, his health declining and his blood pressure climbing. Then when I was fourteen, I found him on the floor in the kitchen—his usual big frame much smaller and his muscles clenched tightly as his body seized.

  He never spoke again after that, with the exception of the occasional grunt when he wanted something or was aggravated. He also never walked again. Instead, he sat in his chair with sadness in his eyes, only smiling his crooked smile whenever I came into the room. It was hard for a prideful man like my daddy to have someone take care of him. I could see the strain in his eyes. But the doctors assured us his situation was permanent.

  It was hard leaving him to go to school. I’d taken care of him since I was fourteen with the help of his sister, my Aunt Irene. But I knew if I wanted to continue to care for him, I needed my education. He knew it, too, which was why he pushed me to go.

  I walked out of my childhood home with tears on my cheeks and a heavy heart. Even knowing he was taken care of didn’t lessen the guilt of leaving him. Natalie, his nurse, was great, but she wasn’t me—she wasn’t family. And Aunt Irene was growing older, as well. She was having a hard time lifting him, which was why we had to hire Natalie in the first place. Still, I wanted to be there for him. I was responsible for him, and it felt wrong to leave.