Rolling over in bed, I groaned, my tense muscles aching. A shower was needed. Opening my eyes, I expected to be greeted with a very fit sight of Johnny next to me. Instead, I was met with a very cold side of the bed. My bedroom door was wide open, and his clothes were gone. I tried swallowing past the lump in my throat at the disappointment I felt.

I guess he got what he’d wanted.

Like a stupid slut, I gave it freely.

I pulled my jersey on, sniffing the collar like a pathetic girl. I loved that his scent clung to it. Walking out of the room, I cringed at the soreness between my legs. Damn, no wonder half the campus had slept with him. He really knew what to do in the bedroom department.

Walking downstairs, I reasoned to just get on with it. So, I made a stupid mistake. Ignoring him shouldn’t be that hard—even if he did live across the street—as he’d probably move on to the next girl on his list.

Walking into the kitchen, I shrieked at the sight in front of me. The worktop was filled with a selection of pancakes, blueberries, bacon, juice and coffee. There were also three fit guys hanging around in there.

“Well, hello, sleepy head,” Logan said, waggling his eyebrows up and down. His eyes trailed down to my legs before going back up. “Have fun?”

I stared at him with shock, my mouth gaping open. What the hell? Was it that obvious?

Sammy walked closer to him and punched him in the arm. Hard.

“Leave her alone, dude.” He turned to me, smiling. “Hi, Tillie.”

He offered a small glass of orange juice to me. I took it, mouthing a small thank you to him.

“There she is.” Johnny turned from the cooker, grinning at me before walking toward me. “Morning.” He bent down, giving me a sweet kiss.

“Morning.” I gave him a small smile before looking back at our guests. I cleared my throat, trying to pull my jersey down a little. It was awkward because Sammy was staring at my legs and Logan was just smirking at me.

“Alright, boys.” Johnny turned around, positioning his body in front of me. “Time’s up. You can go home now.” He pointed at the back door.

I giggled behind him. He sounded like their father instead of their room-mate. The next thing I heard was the boys moving before a chorus of goodbyes sounded.

“So.” Johnny took my hand and led me over to the worktop. “I didn’t know what you’d like so I made everything.” He looked so nervous. It was kind of cute seeing the popular line-backer nervous in front of me. He lifted me up, setting me on a chair. He grabbed my legs, gently lifting them up before stepping in between them. “You look so fucking sexy in that top.” His lips trailed down to my neck, kissing and licking my skin. I moaned, loving the feel of his lips on my neck. He seemed to know exactly which parts of me to pay attention to.

Just then, the coffee machine beeped, causing him to sigh into my neck. My hands tensed on his sides, the action going straight to where I wanted him—where he obviously wanted to be as well considering how tight his jeans looked.

He pulled away from me, pouring himself a coffee. He dished some pancakes up for the both of us before adding some crispy rashers of bacon to mine.

I dug in, moaning at the taste. “This is delicious!” I enthused.

“So…” He cleared his throat before wiping his lips with a napkin. He reached over and took my hand in his. “Did you think I had left this morning?”

I must have taken too long to answer when he continued.

“You looked a little shocked to see me in your kitchen.” He cocked an eyebrow at me, waiting.

I sighed. Honesty was the best policy, right? I nodded slowly, looking into his green eyes.

“I thought so.” He turned his body, looking at me sideways. “I’m not going anywhere. Okay?” Another cocked eyebrow. “Last night was…” He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. “I know how important last night was. Being with you—being your first—I know how important that was. I’m with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

My eyes filled with unshed tears at his words. Johnny looked like a hard-core football player, but he was a real sweetheart. I was counting myself lucky to have found him. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his.

* * *

Hours later, I was cleaning the lounge area and polishing all the surfaces. Johnny had gone home to get some studying done and in his place, Bex was lounging on the sofa.

“So,” I said, sitting in Joy’s armchair. “What happened with Sammy last night?”

She looked over at me confused. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes at how disinterested she looked. “You know, the guy whose ass pockets you had your hands in last night?” If she was confused, then so was I. “At first, I thought you and Logan were going to hook up but then last night you were feeling Sammy up.”

“You do remember I’m a lesbian, right?” She laughed at my expression. “I think those two are missing certain parts to hold my interest.”

“I know,” I quickly defended myself. To be honest, I hadn’t seen her with another girl. No hand holding or anything. “Are you sure you’re a lesbian?” I asked doubtfully.

She cocked her head at me, the words written all over her face.

“I just think you’d make a cute couple. Logan is really nice!” Since when did I become a match-maker?

“Logan,” she emphasized, smirking at me, “is a man whore. He makes Mr. Grey look like a fucking saint!”

I laughed at her description. She hit it right on the head. I think I’d seen Logan with six different women since I’d been here.

“Besides…” She focused back on the book in her lap, looking nervous. “The girl I’m interested in isn’t available. She’s not into me like that.”

I got up out of my seat, hating the anxiety written all over Bex’s face. She was always such a cheery person and seeing her looking so defeated and withdrawn wasn’t right. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her sideways toward me until she was resting her head on my shoulder.

“Well, it’s her loss! She doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.” Which was right. How could anyone not see how amazing Bex was? She was funny, smart, kind, fierce, loyal and if I was a lesbian, I’d be into Bex.

“Thanks.” She chuckled, pulling away from me. “Anyway…” A smirk crept over her face making me cringe before the words even left her mouth. “What did you get up to last night?”

“Up to?” I retorted, painting an innocent mask over my face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Bullshit!” she shrieked, laughing.

Before I could move, she reached over, digging her fingers into my ribs. I squealed, kicking my legs out and trying to escape her grip. She was a relentless tickler.

“Come, on!” she taunted. “Spill it! You had sex.”

I hated being tickled. It set me off into fits of giggles until I had tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Fine!” I half-shrieked, half-yelled. “We did! We had sex!” I had wriggled so much that I had my legs over the arm of the sofa with my head in her lap. She removed her hands, smirking down at me triumphantly.

“How did it go?” she asked,

“I’m not giving you a play-by-play.” I laughed up at her, feeling quite comfortable lying where I was.

“No.” Her face cleared, giving me a small smile. “I mean, did it go okay? Was he gentle?”

I smiled back at her, loving how protective she was. I nodded, trying to choose the correct words. “He was really sweet.” I smiled, thinking back on the previous night. It couldn’t have been more perfect. The more I allowed the memories to flash through my mind, the more I could start to feel the tingles shooting through me.

“So, his performance was above average, then?” She gave me a cheeky wink making me flush.

I got up and walked to the doorway by the stairs before grabbing the cushion from the window seat and throwing it at Bex. “Well above average!” I shrieked before running up the stairs with Bex hot on my trail.

After the worst pillow fight ever with me failing to get my revenge for her tickling nightmare earlier on, Bex left, promising to message me later. Her parents were stopping by that night to visit her and had promised to take her out to dinner. She had yet to come out to them and she was trying to find the confidence to do so.

Grabbing my laptop, I lay down on my bed, facing away from the door. Swinging my legs in the air, I waited for the connection to go live. I hadn’t spoken to my father all week. His face appeared on the screen, making me smile.

“Hi, Dad.” I grinned at him, waving at the screen like an idiot.

“Hi, sweet girl.” He grinned back, the laugh lines creasing by his eyes. “How has school been?”

“Good.” I nodded my head. “I have a few projects due but overall, it’s been good.”

“I spoke to Joy during the week.” He gave me that fatherly concerned look. “I hear there’s a boy on the scene.”

I was going to kill Joy. Before I could say a word, his expression moved, almost as if he was looking at something behind me. I turned, cringing when I saw Johnny in the door. I giggled when Johnny cringed.

“Yeah,” I said, directing my words to my Dad. “Can we talk about it later?”

“Sure.” He nodded, leaning back. “How about you call me later?”

“I will.” I nodded my head, hating the turn the conversation had taken. “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too, sugar.” He grinned, disconnecting the call.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny apologized.

“Don’t be.” I closed the laptop, getting up and placing it back on my desk. “He was going to find out soon.” I went over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “You’ll get to meet him at Christmas time.”

“I may not be here.” He cringed, looking down at me. “I usually go back and see my Mom at that time of year.”

“Oh.” I was disappointed. I’d just assumed—stupidly—that we would be spending Christmas together. Just thought his mom would come and see him instead of the other way around.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he sighed, squeezing me to him.

“Don’t be.” I shook my head, looking up at him. “She’s your mother. Of course you want to spend Christmas with her.” I laid my head against his chest. “Moms are important.”

He walked us forward, sitting down on the bed. Tapping his leg, he invited me to crawl into his lap and laying my head on his shoulder, I sighed as thoughts of Christmas with my own mother plagued my mind.

“You can talk to me about her,” he whispered, rubbing his hand up and down my back before pressing a kiss to my forehead. “What was her favorite color?”

“She didn’t have one.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “If you asked her what her favorite color was, she would always say rainbow.” I smiled, remembering how special she was. “Like that was a color.”

“She sounds like an amazing lady,” Johnny replied.

“She was.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, gazing up at him. “She would have loved you.”

“Yeah?”” He grinned down at me. “So, was she a football fan?”

“She was.” I laughed, loving talking about her with him. My dad proposed to her at a football game. He was a footballer at college and she ran the merchandise stand. Her dad was the coach.”

“No shit.” He laughed down at me. “Love at first touchdown, then.”

I laughed at his description. I guess that was exactly what it had been.

His eyes flicked down to my lips and then back to my eyes. I nodded, giving him the green light and moaned as he pressed his lips to mine. Ever since the night before, every time his lips had touched me, they had sent a direct signal to my core, almost as if it remembered exactly what Johnny could do to my body.

I thrust my tongue into his mouth, feeling a switch turn inside me. I had gone from meek and innocent virgin to horny student within twenty-four hours. I turned in his lap, placing my knees on the bed on either side of him. The position was a direct mirror of last night, which wasn’t helping the situation.

He stood before turning us around and laying me down on the bed, his hips fitting perfectly in between my open legs. He thrust against me gently, his lust taking over.

I pulled my lips away, cringing at the contact.

“Sore?” he asked, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

I nodded, hating that we were having this conversation.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He rolled off me, running his hand through his hair and exhaling a deep breath.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. We were back to staring at the ceiling again. Just like last night before we’d had sex for the first time. It had been perfect, and I wouldn’t change a thing. “Can we do… other stuff?”

He looked toward me. “Like what?”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. How the hell did I, being my shy and geeky self, bring this up with the sex god that was lying next to me?

“Can I touch you?” I asked, turning on my side and placing my hand on his chest.

“You are.” He rested his hand over mine, smiling down at me. There was a spark of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t get it.

I moved my hand from beneath his, sliding it down over his toned stomach and dipping my fingers beneath the buckle of his jeans.

“Woah!” he grabbed my wrist, yanked my hand out of his trousers. “I, uh… I don’t think…”

He was stammering. Was he nervous? Or did he not want me to touch him there? I had heard guys liked being touched there. My insecurity reared its ugly head.

“I just…” He puffed his chest out before taking a deep breath and blowing it out. “I am going to blow my load if you touch me there.” His throat bobbed up and down several times.

He was nervous.

“I thought that was the point.” I gave him a cheeky smile before leaning over and pressing my lips to his. He groaned, parting his. I kissed him harder, trying to take his mind off it.

“Did you like watching me come apart for you last night?” I asked, whispering the words in his ear.

“Fuck, yes.” He pressed a kiss against my neck before sucking the skin. “Seeing you above me…”

“Did you like knowing that you were my first? That I had never been with anyone else?”

It wasn’t like me to talk like this, but I wanted to do so for Johnny because of what he had done for me last night. I had never been put first like that—never had someone focus so much attention on me before. I wanted to make him feel as special as he had made me feel.

He nodded his head, no words following.

“This can be another first,” I whispered. “Let me do this.”

He groaned against the skin of my neck. He gently kissed up my neck until he got to my ear. He nibbled the lobe before soothing it with his tongue. I slid my hand down, grasping the button on his jeans before popping it open. He took hold of my wrist, rubbing his thumb over my pulse point.

“If it gets uncomfortable or you start to feel awkward, we can stop, okay?” His eyes were locked on mine, truth shining in them.

I nodded, secretly loving the way he was protective of me.

I slipped my hand inside, surprised when Johnny pulled his trousers and boxers down a little, freeing his dick from his pants. I was shocked he was so… so… big. I really wasn’t expecting it. His dick bobbed a little, standing tall like a soldier. It didn’t look as scary as I thought it would. It was just skin.

“Can I help?” he asked, taking hold of my hand.

I nodded, having no freaking clue what to do. Where did I start? Did he like soft and gentle? Or hard and fast?

He guided my hand to his firmness. It was surprisingly soft and hard all at the same time.

Gliding our hands up, I bit my lip at the texture of him.

He groaned, wrapping my hand tighter around his shaft. On the next pass, he pulled my hand further down to the base, squeezing tightly before pulling it back up to the top. Twisting my hand, I tried thinking back on all the hand job facts I had read about in teen mags over the years.

He groaned at the action, his head dropping backwards.

“Is that good?” I asked. It was a stupid question because obviously it was; I just needed to hear him.

“Yes, baby. Fuck that feels amazing.” His hips rotated slowly before dropping back down. His hand fell away from mine, letting me take over.

I tightened my grip, squeezing the base. “Is it better than last night?” I was curious to know how it compared. Was the act of sex more intense because feelings were involved or was it just down to hormones?

“It’s good, baby.” He closed his eyes, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “But it doesn’t...” He shook his head, groaning loudly when I slid my thumb over the slit at the head of his dick. “Fuck, it’s nowhere near as good as your pussy.”

My legs tensed at hearing his raw description of our love making. It was love making but hearing him talk so dirty and graphic about last night; it was hotter. More intense.

Why did I have to be sore?

Pumping him harder, I smiled when I started to see a creamy liquid begin to leak from the slit of the head. It didn’t look horrible. I felt proud seeing it there and I had never felt sexier. I pumped him harder, my hand now flying up and down his shaft wanting... no… needing him to come apart. I needed to know what I did to him—needed to know that he desired me just as much as I desired him.

On my next pass, I trailed my other hand down and slid my pointer finger in between the crease of his balls. I had never given that part of Johnny much thought before, but I couldn’t deny that seeing him in the throes of passion had left me curious. My finger had barely touched him when he started groaning louder and thrusting his hips up and down in time with my pumping actions.

He quickly lifted his shirt to his chest before moving my hand off him. He gave himself an extra few rough pumps before he ejaculated, the sperm landing on his stomach. Looking at the substance, I could see that it was a little thick and sticky. He took his shirt off, wiping it away. Rolling his shirt up, he tossed it on the floor.

His chest was heaving, and his eyes were shut tight. Watching him, I had never been so turned on. One night with Johnny and I had become a sex-crazed student.

“Fuck, baby.” He opened his eyes, looking straight into mine. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” I asked, whispering. I was so turned on that I just wanted to jump him right here.

“Like you want to eat me up.” He licked his lips, his eyes darkening with want.

I bit my lip, trying to decide how to tell him that’s exactly what I did want to do. Words weren’t necessary, though. Before I could blink, Johnny grabbed my arms and yanked me down to his lips.

Words weren’t necessary.