Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
AUGUST
I head into the men’s room after I leave Sinclair a trembling, almost incapable mess, desperate to get away from her before I do something stupid like, I don’t know.
Help her out? Treat her tenderly? Like I would ever do that. But shit.
I was tempted.
I clean myself up a little more. Readjust my still-hard cock in my jeans, thinking of something boring like visiting my sister and her imbecile fiancé. Brooks Crosby drives me insane with his bumbling ways. I make him nervous as shit and I relish in it.
Realizing I’m on the right track, I think of my niece shitting her pants and yep, that deflates my dick considerably enough that I can return to the suite and no one would be the wiser.
I consider washing my face but the scent of her delicious cunt lingers and I decide not to. Jesus, she smells good. And is as tight as she can possibly be. Was I an asshole for stretching her with my fingers while I demanded she beg me to ease up? Yes.
Yes, I was.
But she liked it. She could’ve screamed at me to stop and I would’ve, but she wanted my mouth on her. She wanted my fingers inside her juicy pussy. She came so hard I thought she was going to pass out, but luckily enough, she didn’t.
I reenter the suite like I haven’t a care in the world, strolling into the room while nodding and smiling at everyone who glances in my direction. I’m even whistling and I don’t fucking whistle ever. I’m not even the lucky one who got an orgasm out of that encounter so why am I so cheerful?
My gaze lands on the oblivious Tim and I realize that’s why. I love that I got one over this idiot who has no idea that his date even left to meet with me. I can feel my upper lip curl in disgust, my gaze cutting to the left and I do a double take when I realize Sinclair is sitting there. Right next to Tim and watching the game like she actually cares.
Slowly I approach the stadium seats, noticing that they’re now mostly empty. My gaze goes to the scoreboard and I see that we’re losing by a rather large margin and that the majority of the people milling about the suite have left. This game is pretty much over.
Well. At least the one on the field.
I settle into the seat right next to Sinclair’s but she won’t even look at me, which allows me plenty of time to study her. There’s a faint sheen of sweat along her hairline and her cheeks are a bright pink. Her eyes are sparkling, despite the frown currently curving her delectable mouth, and I have a moment of regret that I didn’t kiss her there.
Oh well. Perhaps next time.
“We’re losing,” I announce loudly and Tim glances over at me, a faint smile on his doofus face when he realizes I’m back.
“Hey, there you are! You and Sinclair disappeared at the same time,” he says.
“That’s because I was eating her out in the women’s bathroom,” I say drolly.
Sinclair jabs me in the ribs with her pointy elbow but I barely glance in her direction. A nervous laugh leaves Tim and that’s when I see it. The faint doubt shadowing his eyes. He doesn’t know if he should believe me or not.
He should.
“I didn’t know you were such a jokester,” Tim says, still laughing.
“I’m not.” I’m dead serious.
“Please.” Sinclair waves a dismissive hand and turns so she’s facing Tim, her back to me. “He’s just messing with you. Ignore him.”
I’m about to ask Tim if he has any gum so I can get the taste of his date’s pussy out of my mouth, but Sinclair keeps talking.
“Are you ready to go? We should get out of here, don’t you think?” She keeps her back to me and I let her, not bothering to interfere.
I slouch in my chair like I don’t have a care in the world and blatantly watch them leave. Tim offers up an awkward wave in my direction while Sinclair practically runs to the door, she’s so eager to get away from me.
I wonder if her cum still coats her thighs.
“Hey, thanks again for the tickets, prez,” Tim says with a sheepish smile. “Bummer that we didn’t win.”
“Oh, someone definitely won tonight.” I grin at him, enjoying myself. “Hope you have a shit evening, Timmy.”
Tim frowns, slowly shaking his head. “Okayyy. See ya later.”
They exit the suite and I swear I hear someone breathe a sigh of relief. When I glance over my shoulder, I see it’s a recent graduate. He was a senior when I was a sophomore and a real egotistical asshole, even by my standards. He staggers toward me, a leer on his face, and I wait for his approach, already annoyed.
“What the hell were you thinking, letting those two first-year pledges have tickets to the suite tonight,” he practically roars. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, my gaze sharpening as I examine him more closely .
It’s obvious he misses the college life. He’s got on a university hat and hoodie and he’s three sheets to the wind, as my grandfather would say. I wonder if this pathetic little man is bored. I’d peg him at about twenty-five and if I remember correctly, he came into a massive trust fund when he turned twenty-one. Now he has nothing to do but show up at the alumni suite on a Saturday night and make a drunken fool of himself.
I recognize that look on his face though. The disappointment in his eyes and the way his mouth is formed into a permanent frown. His displeasure with his life permeates from his skin like cologne and I have a nasty little realization that if I don’t watch out, this could be me.
Fuck that.
“Well?” he retorts when I haven’t responded.
I shake my head, making a tsking sound and that seems to bother him even more. His face turns red and I swear he’s going to stroke out.
“It was a hazing thing, you know? Invite the lowest pledges at the frat and see if I can fuck one of their dates.” I shrug, like no big deal.
The man nods, his expression easing. I’m talking his language. He thoroughly enjoyed hazing everyone back in his day. “And did you?”
“Did I what?” I’m already done with this conversation.
“Fuck one of their dates?”
My smile is slow, the taste of Sinclair’s pussy still lingering on my tongue. “Not quite. But I will.”