{Emma}

Ryan wasn’t in chem, which has my suspicions on high alert. First he’s late to work, then he skips class. Something’s up with my fake boyfriend. I plan to find out what.

I make my way toward the mods of the Delta house. As I’m on the sidewalk of Greek Row, I hold my head high. I belong here, not in a dorm on the eleventh floor of a rundown building. I just don’t belong in a sorority.

Are females allowed to join frats? That question consumes my thoughts as I round the corner. If I could have found a sorority willing to accept me for me and didn’t want to borrow my entire wardrobe, I would have thought about it. But, not only did all the sororities I pledged to expect me to simply open my closet to them, when I told them to suck my big toe, they all told me I was… What was it? Oh, yeah. Obnoxious, annoying, and had no filter from my brain to my mouth.

Tell me something I don’t already know.

I walk through Delta’s yard to get to the mods out back.

“Hey, Red!”

I cringe as I recognize Brad’s douchy voice. Craning my neck, I spot him on an upper story balcony. “Hello, Brad.”

“That offer stands, sweetheart. You. Me. A private little setting, just the two of us.”

My sarcasm kicks into high gear as four of his friends join him on the balcony. “I’m so glad you cleared that up for me. I wasn’t sure if a private little setting meant more than just the two of us.”

His smile falters as he glances at one of his Delta dickhead buddies when he laughs at Brad’s expense. Then his expression hardens. Oh, yeah. He’s pissed. He jerks his attention to me. “Listen, bitch. You may think you’re smarter than me—”

“I am smarter than you,” I correct him with a raise of my hand to stop him from embarrassing himself further. “So you should save us all time and stop thinking.” I turn and walk toward the mod.

Out of nowhere something smacks the top of my head and bursts open, drenching me with freezing liquid. I pull in a sharp intake of breath as I immediately shake. I pull a piece of green latex off my sleeve. My throat closes as I fight back tears of humiliation. The asshole hit me with a goddamn water balloon.

This is war.

I run to the mod as another balloon slams into the ground behind me, splattering my ankles. Without knocking, I storm into Ryan’s place and don’t slow until I’m dripping in his living room, panting.

The instant I spot him my eyes swell with tears. I hate that I cry when I’m pissed. Or humiliated. Or mortified. Take your pick. They all fit this situation. “H-He bombed m-me.”

His eyes widen as he hurries over. He pulls more green latex out of my hair and turns an interesting shade of crimson. He then runs down the hall. When he reappears, he has this bazooka-looking thing made out of plastic pipe with a crank on the end.

I wipe at my eyes, embarrassed I’m crying over something as stupid as a water balloon attack. “What is that thing?”

“Payback,” he answers in a seriously low, dangerous voice, and throws open the kitchen window facing the Delta house. “One of the drawers has balloons. Fill them halfway with water, tie them, and bring them to me.”

“How many?”

“Five should do it.”

I feel ridiculous and yet exhilarated as I find the balloons and fill them. I had a water balloon fight with my neighbor once when I was in grade school. This is so much better.

Once I fill the final balloon and tie it off, I grab all five—make that four as I stumble and drop one. It crashes at my feet, not only soaking the floor of his kitchen, but my shoes. Still, I have four for whatever battle we are about to wage against the Delta dicks.

He’s got his gaze fixed on centering the bazooka. “Lube.”

I fall back. “Excuse me?”

“I need lube. There’s some in the nightstand in my bedroom.”

I’m not even going to touch that one. Not trying to picture what he does with his lube when he’s alone, I grab the tube and hurry back to him. “Here,” I say and thrust it at him, careful to only touch it with my thumb and index finger.

“Don’t act so grossed out.” He grabs it and slathers it inside the giant plastic tube and then all over a balloon. “It’s not like you’ve never, you know.”

“Gross.” I don’t dare admit to anything.

He stops what he’s doing and faces me. “Are you seriously saying you’ve never?”

“I’m not going to admit something like that to you.”

“That’s a yes,” he says and focuses on the bazooka. Before I can deny it, he brings up the bazooka and positions it against the windowsill. “Watch this.” He slips the balloon down the tube and turns the crank a few times. He then pushes a little button and a loud BOOM! sounds. I hurry to the window to watch the balloon launch. I can’t see anything and place my hands on his shoulders, pressing my boobs against his back just in time to watch the balloon hit one of Brad’s douchy friends. The friend stumbles back and hollers some of my favorite obscenities.

“Awesome.” I laugh.

“Incoming.”

I jump out of the way just as a multiple arsenal of water balloons make it through Ryan’s open window, bursting as they smack against him. He lowers his head and takes each one. I have to admit, I’m impressed. I would have got up and screamed like the girl I am as soon as the first one hit. Or cried, as I so maturely demonstrated earlier.

“Oh, yeah?” He lubes the remaining three balloons and slides them into the barrel. “Give it four cranks.”

“You got it.” I give it five for good measure.

He aims and pushes the button. The balloons launch and I’m laughing as they slam into each of the remaining Delta douches on the balcony. Only the balloons don’t break. They hit each guy and then the targets disappear as they fly back, out of sight.

Ryan jerks around to face me, his smoky eyes blazing. “How may turns did to you give it?”

“Five,” I say in a small voice.

“I told you four.”

“I wanted to be sure you got them.”

“Goddamn it, Emma.” He drops the gun and heads toward the door. “They could be hurt.”

Shit. Shit! This is all my fault. If they call the cops, I’ll make a full confession. If they need an ambulance, I’ll give a pint of blood. I don’t want Ryan going down for something I did.

The instant we both walk outside, we’re pummeled. Water balloons come from every direction, soaking us from head-to-toe. We just stand there, taking it. Once the last balloon hits and adds to our drenchiness, I glance at him. He glances at me.

And then we both burst out laughing.

We slop back inside before our enemies can reload and start in on round two. “I really am sorry, Ryan. I had no idea—”

He shuts me up by capturing my lips, devouring me from the inside out. I kiss him back, lost in the moment and loving it. His tongue brushes up against mine, spending time exploring my mouth. Clearly he’s taken notes from our lessons.

Finally, after I’ve lost all feeling in my knees as they threaten to give out, he releases me. I sway as his lips leave mine before I open my eyes and look at him. “What,” I pant, “was that?”

“That was fun,” he replies as he nods at the window. He then gives me a wicked look. “And so was that.”

“Wait a goddamn minute. You are not allowed to be so Don Juan about stealing kisses, buddy.”

“Why not?”

“Because I haven’t taught you that yet.”

“A guy can’t learn a few things on his own?”

“What’d you do, Google how to shock a girl into an orgasm? Jesus, Ryan. That’s so not fair.”

He loses what cute crooked grin he has. “I thought you told me to grow a set. You know, take charge.”

Shit. I’ve created a monster. “Next time warn me before you do something like that.”

“It was spontaneous.” When he jerks his gaze toward the window we’re standing in front of, I get it. He did it all for show. I don’t know if that makes me feel better or pisses me off even more. Regardless, I want to do it again.

“Let’s give them something they’ll really talk about.” Making sure we’re smack dab in front of the window so the Deltas see everything, I grab him and pull him toward me, kissing him so deeply I swear I feel him everywhere. When I sweep my tongue against his lips, he’s already poised to meet me halfway. Our tongues collide and we dance. Oh, dear God. He’s picking up on that fast. I’m really loving the way he kisses. And grabs my hair. And holds my hip with his other hand.

When he reaches around and squeezes my ass, I rock my hips against his hard cock. Wow. He’s definitely worlds above where he was our last kiss. No preemie sperm spit up. Yet.

“Now, we casually move away from the window,” I whisper into his ear. “Just watch me. You know what’s coming and can barely stand it. Although you’d rather sprint into the bedroom, you’re giving me time to warm up. Girls take a lot longer than guys.”

“They do?”

I nod as we settle on the couch, lost in our own little world. Gone is the balloon fight. We don’t even notice the water dripping from us. The colorful latex stuck in our hair and all over our clothes. We simply stare at each other as the anticipation builds between us. “Ryan?”

He leans in and barely brushes his lips against mine. Damn, he’s good at that. “Tell me what I should say right now.”

“Why don’t you give it a try?” I scoot toward him and rest my hand on his thigh.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to screw up.”

“Try,” I urge.

“I don’t want to say anything. I just want to kiss you.”

I grin as he reads my mind. “See? You’re getting better at this. There’re times, like now, you should just let your actions speak.”

He doesn’t say another word and instead captures my lips with his, consuming them as if he’ll never have another kiss after this one. The warmth of his hand sinks into me as he rests it on my thigh before inching it higher. My clit springs to life, throbbing and pulsing like angry music at a nightclub. It demands attention, and I decide it’s time to give Ryan his next lesson.