{Emma}

Now that I have Kayla covering for me at work, I can melt into a permanent fixture right here on the couch and never move again. There’s no way I can do this again tomorrow. I’m spent.

He walks into the kitchen with a spring in his step, and I hate him for it. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“I’m good with whatever.” I’m still in recovery mode and can barely keep my eyes open. I close my eyes and don’t open them again until I feel Ryan nudge me. I blink awake. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yep. Your midterm is done, by the way.”

I jerk upright. “You finished my hello world project?” I rub my eyes and stretch.

He laughs. “I’ve got the laptop primed and ready for you to make something up for my midterm.”

“You want me to work on that thing?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He glances at the massive computer.

“It looks like it has launch codes and can control satellites.” I take my time standing. My muscles are stiff, my legs rubbery, but I’ll live.

“Don’t tell me you have an aversion to powerful laptops on top of your fear of eggs.”

“What if I break it?” I can’t even enter my password without needing help.

“It’s pretty solid. I don’t think you can break it. But, uh… Don’t try.”

“Fun sucker.” I sit at the counter and wiggle my fingers over the keys. “Give me three things you’d write about.”

“How about you just make something up,” he says with a shrug of his yummy shoulders.

I can’t even look at him without having naughty thoughts. Next thing I know, I’ll have penned the next Fifty Shades. I’m not into the whole room of pain thing, but if I was, I’d want Ryan to be my Mr. Gray.

No, damn it. I need to stop thinking about him when I have to make good on my half of our deal. I spot a couple files on his desktop labeled sensitive, so of course, I open them. His phone buzzes and he answers, but I barely hear him. I’m too fixated on words like data retrieval for something called TREX—whatever that is.

“Hello? Yes.” He glances my way before placing his back to me. “Just a sec.” He says over his shoulder, “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” He disappears into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

I read more. It’s an overview of several foundations, including the Ryan Foundation. For the first time, I realize Ryan has the same last name. Coincidence? It’s a pretty common last name. But, then again, why would he be saving information on his laptop about a foundation that shares his name? Maybe he’s looking at getting a scholarship.

I read on and had no idea the Ryan Foundation benefited so many universities in addition to Bainbridge University. I’m one of the two scholarship recipients the foundation has paid to attend BU. It looks like the foundation offers the same two scholarships to several universities. That’s cool. I’m honored to be a part of something so awesome.

The bedroom door opens and I quickly close the files, and bring up the paper. I know exactly what to write and get started. A kid on the streets wants to be a doctor. A kid with wild brown hair and a lopsided grin. As he’s stealing a bicycle, he spots a guy crossing the street. A racing car. It runs the light. The kid jumps into action, pulling the guy out of the way just as the car speeds by. The guy is so grateful he takes him in. He’s like a Daddy Warbucks and offers to pay the kid’s college in return for saving his life. In my story, Daddy Warbucks is Stuart Ryan, although I change the name to protect the innocent.

I smile as the words come faster and faster. By the time Ryan joins me at the kitchen island, I’m well on my way to giving him a midterm paper worthy of an easy A.

“How’s it going?”

“Awesome. I’ll have your paper done in an hour.”

He chuckles. “Pretty sure of yourself.”

“How long did it take you to do mine?”

“Less than an hour.”

“I rest my case.”

I follow through on my promise and have the paper done in an hour. With edits. The story practically wrote itself. Smiling at my triumph, I save the file and close the laptop. “Done.”

“Thanks.” He’s changed into a pair of his new jeans and one of his custom shirts I shrunk. I have just one word.

Damn.

He’s oh my God hot. Like if I saw him in the bar looking the way he does right now, I’d take him home and never let him leave. I can’t believe my nipples are tightening as a distinctive tingling sparks to life, wetting my panties. I want him between my legs, first his mouth, then his cock. He has me horny as hell by doing nothing more than standing there.

I’m in serious trouble.

* * *

[Ryan]

“No, you can’t just shoot. You have to aim. Save your ammo.”

Emma laughs that throaty laugh and it distracts me from my task. I have zombies to kill, but I can’t do that when she’s sitting next to me in nothing but one of my T-shirts and sexy-as-shit boy briefs. I couldn’t stop myself when she was in sweats and a sweatshirt. I’m a complete goner in what she has on now.

“But the dude was clearly a zombie.”

“She’s right,” ZombKiller says through the headset. I only know my team by their screen names. “If she wouldn’t have taken him out, I’d be dead. Thanks, ERae69.”

I give her a look and cover my mic. “Did you really need to choose that screen name?”

“I’m nothing if not consistent.”

“You’re a lot more than that.” She is. She really is.

“Don’t read more into it. It’s just easy to remember.” She doesn’t even bother to cover her mic. She shrugs like it’s no big deal. Between her screen name and her husky voice, she’s no doubt got my entire team panting for a little one-on-one. Too damn bad. She’s mine until the DASH and I plan on making the most of it. I only have two weeks left.

Sharing her with my team isn’t making the most of my time with her. My cock has been hard since she chose that screen name. Images of our own sixty-nine conjure up in my head, making my balls ache. I’m never going to last all night if I can’t stop thinking about her on top of me, her mouth sliding on my flesh as I drink her sweet juices.

“I like her screen name,” Die4Now speaks up.

“You’re not helping,” I tell him. He’s not allowed to insert himself into the conversation with my fake girlfriend. None of them are.

“Are you going to bitch about my screen name? Or are you going to get your head in the game?” Emma shoots a zombie that snuck up behind me, saving my life. “You’re welcome.”

“You use too much ammo,” I tell her, trying to find something she’s doing wrong. She can’t play TDM for the first time and outplay me. I’ve been playing this game for years and beat it more times than I can count. Who is she to not even understand the story behind it and still play better than me?

“Fun sucker,” she replies and giggles as she shoots two more zombies. Goddamn her laugh. It fills my senses and renders me helpless but to do something that will have her laughing again.

“I think he’s jealous you’re better at this than he is, ERae.” NytroVenom speaks up.

Emma lifts her brow as she shrugs. “I guess you’re not the only one with natural talent.” I widen my eyes and cover my mic to say something when a shit storm of shots ring out, pulling my attention to the screen as zombies come at us from every direction.

“Zomb? Where are you, man?” He’s supposed to cover my back.

“Incoming!” ZombKiller shouts. I swing my avatar around and shoot, but there’re too many. My lifeline is quickly shrinking as the zombies overtake me. When my life is blinking red and I’ve got maybe one hit left in me before I’m out, another avatar appears.

“I’ve got you, babe.” Emma’s brow is furrowed in concentration as she rushes in, taking out every zombie about to kill me. She’s got her tongue swiping across her lower lip and damn if it isn’t an awesome sight. When the last zombie falls, she then moves her avatar to me and transfers some of her life. We now have a half-life each.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because that’s what partners do.”

“Marry me,” Die4now says.

Emma laughs and it makes me smile. “Sorry, Die. I’m already taken.”

“But is it working?”

“What do you look like, ERae?” ZombKiller asks.

“What are you wearing?” NytroVenom adds.

“She’s not your type,” I answer, tense and ready to tell them all to go screw themselves. Emma is mine. “Game over, guys.” They all groan. “Sorry. I promised my girl a little me time. Catch you next week.” I turn off the game and remove my headset.

“Me time?” she asks and pulls off her headset. “You sounded just like a cocky player with that one.”

“How about some you time, then?”

“That’s just as bad as me time.” She rolls her eyes. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

“Wait.” I pull her back when she tries to lead me to the bedroom. “I have a better idea.”

“Unless it involves a bed and my head on the pillow, I’ll pass.”

“That’s, uh… That’s exactly what it involves.”

She draws in a deep breath and blinks several times. “What are you saying?”

“I want to have sex with you.” I don’t know how else to say it.

“Ryan, we talked about this.”

“No, you talked. I protested.” I can’t imagine losing my virginity to anyone else and rest my forehead to hers. When I cup the back of her neck with my hand, I close my eyes and whisper against her lips. “Please, Emma. I…uh… I, um…”

“Why are you back to stuttering?”

“I kinda just want you to be my first,” I mutter.

I open my eyes just in time to see her close hers. “Follow me.”

My heart in my throat, I follow Emma into the bathroom and catch my breath when the light hits her creamy skin. Damn, I am one lucky son of a bitch to have someone with a body like that willing to teach me everything she knows. The lessons up to now have been nice, but I’m ready for more than using my hands or mouth to make her come. I want to swallow her cries as I drive my cock deep inside her. I want to stretch her, fill her, meld our flesh together. She’s the first person I’ve ever wanted to take that leap with. I’m close to passing out just thinking about it, I’m so nervous. I’m terrified I’ll do something wrong, something that will make her call off this deal we have.

I can’t think like that or I’ll never go through with it. She’s so great. Crazy great. I keep waiting for her to call me a lost cause. Loser. Disappointment. I’m used to those titles. I’m not used to her little nicknames for me. Romeo. Buddy. Lover boy. I like hers so much better.

“Let’s take a shower.”

Disappointment deflates my lungs. We’ve taken so many showers together, I’m water-logged. “I don’t want a shower. I want to go all the way.”

“You’re going to have to get better with those lines, buddy.” She disappears and reappears in an instant, this time naked. It takes me a second to recover. “Hop in, lover boy.”

After adjusting the water to the perfect, cool temperature, I strip and step in, holding out my hand to help her. She steps into the stream and sucks in a breath. “Jesus Christ, that’s cold.”

“So let’s generate some heat.” I pull her to me, my hands on her hips.

She laughs and turns us so my back is blocking her from the water. “You and your cheesy lines, Romeo. How can a girl resist?”

I kiss her, taking my time exploring her sweet mouth with my tongue. Her taste intoxicates me. I cradle her cheeks and kiss her deeper, consumed by everything about her. I love kissing her. I get lost every time. She moans and presses her body against mine, and I come undone.

I grasp her hair the way she taught me, and she cries out. I’m afraid I hurt her until she wraps her arms around me and holds me tighter. I brush my hand along the curve of her breast and she shudders in my arms. When I sweep the pad of my thumb across a hard nipple, she breaks our kiss as she hisses in a breath.

“Do that again,” she whispers. I do and she hums deep in the back of her throat. “Now, use your mouth.”

I lower to her breast and cover her nipple with my mouth. She leans back into the corner of the shower, moaning in that husky voice that drives me wild. I lick and tease her other breast and she grabs me by the hair, pulling me to her lips. She kisses me with such heat, such unbridled passion, that I can’t stand it any longer.

“Emma?” I ask, suddenly unsure. She knows I’ve never done this before. Instead of making fun of me for being a twenty-three-year-old virgin, she whips out a little foil package and wiggles her brow. That must be what she disappeared to grab. I grin, trying to hide my nerves. This is it. I’m about to have sex for the first time, and with the most beautiful woman in the world.

“You’re sure this won’t make it weird between us?” She searches my eyes.

“Like I said, it’s already weird between us.” I search hers right back.

She laughs and squeezes my cock with her hand. I jump and suck in a breath. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of the preemie sperm spit up.” She strokes me and my knees nearly give out as, after only a few caresses, I lose it. Humiliation heats my cheeks. I’m so embarrassed. I want to escape the shower and hide as shame weighs me down. But she keeps stroking, even after I erupted all over her hand.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper against her lips, ready to collapse from mortification.

“Don’t be,” she tells me and kisses me, slow and tender. “I know how you tick now. We just needed to get that orgasm out of the way.”

“But what if I’m done?”

“From the feel of things, I don’t think you are.”