My jaw clenched as she rolled her eyes and laughed. "Confidence, my arse! The whole college knows you use girls for sex, which, quite honestly, makes me feel sick."

She'd just earned strike one.

"From what I saw the other night with her, you did then too, after you confided to me that you didn't like her, after you connected so deeply with me. "

Strike two.

"Where's the morality in that? Couldn't resist her open legs I take it?"

Fucking strike three!

Completely losing my mind, I backed Molly against the wall and into a dark corner. We were completely hidden from view. Inching closer, I asked, "Why do you care who I fuck? What's it to you?" Anger was quickly being replaced by lust, the two blurring in my mind. Her heavy breathing and the goose bumps on her skin were only goading me further.

She may not have realized it, but Molly couldn't take her gaze off my lips. "It isn't anything to me," she said between gritted teeth, but those hooded eyes gave me all the indication I needed. She fucking wanted me too but couldn't just come out and say it, could she? No, Mol was content to push every damn button I had.

I slapped my hand against the wall, edging in closer, to the point that we were almost touching. "You're lying."

Her firm tits pressed against my chest as she hissed, "I'm not lying. It has nothing to do with me who you fuck, as you so eloquently put it!"

"Bullshit! I don't fuckin' believe you!" I spat out as she hit my chest, and I tried once again. "I said I don't believe you! Tell me why the fuck you care and don't fuckin' lie!" I felt her hands brush my stomach, almost causing me to moan out loud.

"Fine!" she screamed. "I care because you kissed me! You kissed me like you had no other choice, dammit! I don't like being just another plaything when I trusted you with me. I never do that and now I remember exactly why!"

Now we were getting somewhere.

"For your information, I didn't screw her. In fact, I told her in no uncertain terms that I was done for good. What you'd said to me made sense... about living my own life. You got through to me. You... affected me. And get this straight... you are no one's plaything, Shakespeare. I may fuck around, but I wouldn't fuck around on you."

Those damn lips opened again, but I'd had enough of her shit so I laid my finger over her mouth, trapping her in my hold. "You're brave, Shakespeare, speaking to me like this. I don't... tolerate it from anyone. People around here know not to approach me. They have the sense to leave things alone."

Her eyes narrowed and she asked, "Are you threatening me?"

My cock was iron-stiff, my tether about to snap, but this small English chick was taking me on like a gladiator.

"Not threatening, Shakespeare, commending. I'm finding you and that mouth of yours a real turn-on. But I'm more interested in teaching you how to keep it shut."

Her body was betraying her; I caught the swallow of her throat and the squirming of her thighs. She liked the way I was being with her, and the thought that this Miss Goody Two-Shoes might actually like me like this was only driving me more insane.

"Save that kind of talk for when you screw Shelly again," she snapped.

"I told you I didn't fuckin' touch her!" I tried to say calmly, but it came out as more of a low growl.

"That's not what she's been saying." Her voice was getting breathy; she was losing the hard-ass front she'd adopted.

Both calmer now, I tried to make her understand how I was feeling. "I couldn't care less what she says. I thought you were different, Mol. Why make a dig about Shelly or football after what I'd told you I was going through?"

Sucking in a sharp breath, she began rubbing at her temples. "Look, I'm just in a crappy mood. I shouldn't have come at you like that and I apologize for betraying your confidence. It was bad manners on my part. I was pissed off at you, have been pissed off at you for days. I don't know how to be around you. You... confuse me."

Talk about conflicted. I was so pissed at her for that earlier performance, but I craved her. I had no idea why, but I'd never wanted a chick like her before, every fiber of my being screaming at me to take her, possess her. As my mind swirled with these thoughts, my grip on her momentarily loosened, and she attempted to slip past me.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I snapped.

"I'm leaving. I'm done with this... done with us and whatever the hell just happened."

Done? She wasn't done. We were just getting started.

When she tried to wiggle past me again, I gave up my restraint and growled, "You're fucking driving me insane, Shakespeare!" And grabbing her tightly around the back of her neck, I smashed those fucking pouting lips against mine.

Shit it felt good.

I ate at her mouth, devoured everything she had like a starving man at a feast. My tongue relentlessly explored, and she welcomed everything I gave. She was perfect, this was perfect, and I was becoming more than a little obsessed.

I heard the thud of her books as she threw them to the floor and felt her hands grip the loose material of my shirt. I was taking her and she was taking me right back. She wanted this as much as me.

I was a man possessed. Gripping her tightly around her arms, I thrust her against the wall, my cock pressing against her pussy, grinding, and groaning against her mouth. She expelled a loud moan, and suddenly, reality came crashing back. I was mauling Mol in a friggin' hallway.

Dread built in my stomach. I was supposed to avoid doing shit like this, get through this year with ease. Molly was proving to be a huge fucking distraction. On the one hand, I wanted to taste more of her, but on the other, I wanted her to stay really fucking far away.

I expelled an angry groan. "Fuck, Mol, why can't I get you outta my head? You're all I fuckin' think about and I don't know how to deal."

She looked stunning: face flushed, lips swollen, eyes bright with need. "You do?" she whispered, and I could see she liked those words that were stupidly spilling out of my mouth.

"Every minute. Of. Every. Day."

Thrusting my hands behind my head, I watched as she began to gather her things, preparing to leave. We needed to clear up this shit between us, whatever the heck it was.

"I don't know what to do about you. It's rattling me and I don't like it. I've never gotten like this over some girl." I cursed myself for saying that. This was Molly I was talking about, not some groupie slut. "But I don't think you're just some girl. I've thought that from the minute I saw you all flustered in the hall on the first day of classes. Christ, I haven't been able to taste anything but you since we kissed at the damn initiation."

I waited for her response, but instead, she took off, running, shouting back, "I-I n-need to get to the library."

I almost punched the wall as her tight ass ran away from me as fast as possible. I started to follow but decided to just let her go and made myself stand still. I watched her bluster away, but when she shyly glanced back, I assured her, "This is far from over, Shakespeare... far from fuckin' over!" And then she was gone, leaving me pent up with anger, confused to all hell, and stuck with the biggest hard-on I'd ever had in my life.

Molly Shakespeare was going to kill me.

7.

Fayetteville, Arkansas "Shit, Bullet, that chick can't take her eyes off you!" Reece said excitedly.

Lifting my head from my beer, I checked out the attractive blonde, catching her inviting smile but shaking my head in dismissal.

Jimmy-Don put his hand to my head, pretending to check my temperature. "You feeling all right?"

With a smile, I said, "Yeah, just not interested."

"You sure you're all right?" This time he was serious. His mouth gaped open and he stared at me in shock. I just nodded my head slowly in response and tapped my beer to his, laughing.

"How can you not be interested in that? She's a freakin' goddess!" Reece complained, getting up off the couch, walking across the room and trying his luck with the blonde.

"Fifty bucks says she knocks him back," Austin said with a smile as he nudged my arm.

"Hell, she ain't going to touch him. She's a nine. He's... not. I'd just be giving my money away taking that bet."

Jimmy-Don shuffled forward on the couch, hand held out. "Hey now, give him a chance. He'll be first-string QB next year. Heck, Rome, he'll be you! I'll take the bet... from you both."

The three of us sat back and watched Reece as he strutted up to the blonde, cocky as all shit. She glanced over his shoulder at me, but whatever Reece said had her slumping where she stood and her "fuck me" smile falling off her face.

He worked the talk good, whispering in her ear, touching her cheek and her bare arm with his fingers.

Austin gaped at me, clearly thinking the same thought: the little fucker was in.

The blonde ran her hand down his chest, then, taking his hand, began leading him out of the room. Reece glanced back at us, the biggest damn grin on his face, and then disappeared upstairs.

"Whew! I knew it!" Jimmy-Don howled and, facing Austin and me, said, "Pay up, bitches!" with a shit-eating grin.

Shaking my head, I reached into my pocket, pulling out a fifty, Austin doing the same, and we each slapped it into Jimmy-Don's outstretched hand. "I never thought I'd see the day when he scored on his own."

"He's been watching you-on the field, off the field-like a damn hawk. He's gonna be friggin' dangerous next year," Jimmy-don said jokingly and moved off the couch to join some of our teammates heading to the backyard for food.

We were at a house party courtesy of one of the players' cousins from the Hogs. It was the usual-pussy on demand, liquor flowing-but what was unusual was that I didn't have an ounce of fucking interest in any of it, too busy wondering what Molly was up to back home, too busy wondering if she'd seen my shit show of a game.

I'd just about given up trying to rid her from my mind.

Austin got up to get more beer, and a few minutes later, the couch cushion dipped next to me, signaling his return. Tossing me another bottle, he asked, "You okay?"

I nodded, biting off the cap with my teeth before taking a long swig.

"You'll get your form back, you know. You're just having an off start to the season."

"Off start? Fuck. I can't play no more. Nothing I try goes right. I overshot my pass to you today by about five yards," I muttered sullenly.

"Shut up, Rome. You're the best damn player in the state, hell, the country. You're just going through too much and can't leave that baggage outta the game."

"How do you know what I'm going through?"

Austin shrugged. "Seen you like this before, when you took the football scholarship at UA. Your daddy almost beat you into hospital, and you, the sadistic fucker you are, just let him."

That memory was hard to forget. I'd gone home straight from my game to tell my daddy I'd accepted a scholarship with the Tide. Coach had been coming to some of my senior games in high school and when we took state, he offered me a place at UA on the spot. It was one of the happiest days of my life. That was until I told my daddy. I think he'd always assumed I'd eventually come around to his way of thinking, would eventually give up all the football crap and follow in his footsteps and go into the family business. But he didn't understand the passion I had for the game, never did, and that's where our present issues began.

The minute I told him I'd gotten a full scholarship, he'd snapped. I remember realizing at that moment that he was never going to let me lead my own life. And fuck knows why, but I stood before my irate father, the stocky man throwing punch after punch... and I took every one. Smiled at him through each blow. Then, bloodied and beaten, packed my shit and slept on Austin's floor for several weeks before having to go back home to wait out the rest of the year. I avoided my folks for months, stayed well out of their way, living mostly in the old cabin on their land, then left for summer training camp with the Tide and never looked back.

Snapping back to the present, metal music booming through the speakers, I said, "There was no point in fighting back. I'd learned that just made it worse."

"So what's up now? He still trying to stop you from entering the draft?"

"Yeah, nothing new there." I huffed out a tired laugh. "But now he wants me to marry Shelly. I refused, of course, haven't spoken to him since, but I know he won't give up." I glanced at the bottle in my hands and said, "Nothing ever changes for us, eh, brother?"

Shaking his head, Austin said, "Sometimes, Rome, I wonder how we both got such shit lives. You with all the money in the world but with the worst parents on Earth." I actually laughed at that. "Or me, a piece of trailer trash nothing, with two dickhead brothers and a saint of a mother who can barely walk anymore."

I tilted my bottle of beer in his direction and he clinked his against mine, no more words needing to be said.

The party carried on, most of the players scoring chicks for the night, and Jimmy-Don came back into the room finding Austin and me still on the same spot. "Guys! A group of us are heading out to a bar, you coming?"

"Your girl not going to be pissed at you if you do?" I asked with a teasing smile.

Jimmy-Don was crazy about his new girl, never shut up about the damn Texan blonde all the way to Arkansas. Apparently the chick was adventurous as all hell in bed, which I discovered after the seventh detailed explanation of their top ten sexual positions. What the fuck's Othello's Back Grove anyway?

"Hell no! Cass'd probably kick my ass if I didn't go out and drink, and she knows I wouldn't stray."

I believed him. He was a good guy.

"Gonna pass," I said. "I think I'll just head back to the hotel."

Bending down, Jimmy-Don pressed his hand against my head once again. "Seriously, Bullet, are you sick? For real? First, no women in weeks and now, refusing to go to a bar? You're Invasion of the Body Snatchers deal is scaring the shit outta me!"

Laughing, I stood, patting him on the back. "I'm just sick of it all, man. Need to get my head down and focus. Catch you later."

Austin came back with me, something clearly bugging him too, but we knew not to pry into each other's problems and instead talked football all the way back to our rooms.

Once in bed, I closed my eyes, and it was Molly's face I saw, her kiss I tasted, and sighing, I began counting down the hours until I could see her again.

I was so fucking screwed.

As soon as the plane hit the tarmac, the texts started. My daddy writing that he wanted to see me, needed to see me, warning me that I'd better fucking see him!

Then at six thirty in the damn morning, he called. Deciding to just answer and get his lecture over with, I greeted with a reluctant, "Daddy."

"I'm almost at the grounds of your school. I suggest you meet me immediately. Don't make me come looking." My fists clenched and I almost crunched the bastard cell in my hands.

"I'll meet you at the quad."

Picking up my keys, I quickly left my room, almost sprinting to the quad, still wearing the same clothes I'd just traveled in. The place was deserted, too early for students to be up, but the sun was already burning hot, the campus eerily still.

Rounding the corner, it didn't take long to spot my father's treasured Bentley-silver, ostentatious-and I stopped on the sidewalk, right at the hood of the car.

My daddy opened his door, his suit slightly disheveled and his brown eyes tired. For a moment I faltered, thinking he was here to deliver some bad news, until I saw him grinding his teeth and knew he was here about me.

"Rome," he greeted, folding his arms across his chest.

I hated that he was this calm and collected, his voice quiet and low. I could never predict his mood when he was like this, never knew whether to brace for a hit or if I was about to be blackmailed into doing some shit I didn't want to.

"Daddy," I said cautiously.