Safer in His Keeping

1. Chapter 1

Justin

Low beat thrums through my body in time with the obnoxiously loud music. The red plastic cup in my hand is sticky from when someone bumped into me and the beer sloshed over the edge. I want to set it down but then what would I do with my hands? What do normal people do with their hands?

I try to find Derek in the shifting crowd, but my roommate has disappeared the moment we got here, and I likely won’t see him all evening. Longer, if he finds someone to hook up with.

What am I even doing here? I don’t know anyone in this place. Not well, anyway. The blonde girl chatting with a pack of drooling frat boys is from my Economy class, but I don’t even know her name. She’s pretty, and if I weren’t such a damned coward, I would have gone to her and…

Do what? Stare awkwardly while the hunky frat guys surrounding her would laugh at me?

Yeah, that would go over well. I should just go.

I still have to study for the Advanced Accounting test I’ve got in two weeks, and there’s that paper for Taxation I should be doing instead of standing here like a turd watching people “have life,” as Derek calls it.

“Hi!” someone yells over the loud music. It’s a girl with long dark hair and huge eyes. They’re red-rimmed, like she’s been crying, but it doesn’t detract from her beauty. She’s short, even shorter than me, which doesn’t happen often. My high school classmates didn’t call me midget for nothing.

I jump back, startled, and nearly spill the beer all over her. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” I exclaim as I internally smack myself. The first time a girl speaks to me and I nearly soak her with the disgusting beer I wasn’t planning on drinking anyway. “I didn’t see you there. So, so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

We grab some napkins and our heads collide as we both crouch to clean up the mess on the floor. Jesus Christ, why am I like this?

By some miracle, the girl doesn’t seem deterred by my extreme awkwardness. “I’m Grace.”

“Justin.” I even manage a smile. At least, I hope it’s a smile and not a grimace.

“I, um, haven’t seen you around. I would have remembered meeting such a beautiful woman.

” I’m tempted to smack myself for real. What am I saying?

Since when do stupid lines like that work on anyone?

I can almost hear my brothers hooting in laughter at my pathetic attempts at flirting.

“Sorry, that was terrible. I’m so bad at this. ”

Grace’s phone rings and I suppress a sigh, certain she’s going to use it as an excuse to leave. However, she frowns, rejects the call, and floors me by asking, “Do you want to have sex?”

“Oh, er, um, what?” I stutter. What the hell is going on? “Wait, is this a prank?” I glance around, certain people are going to start laughing at me any minute, but no one’s paying attention to us.

Grace blushes. “No, I just want to have sex with someone.”

“And… you chose me?” I ask incredulously. This must be a prank.

“Yes, I chose you. Unless you don’t want to?”

Do I not want to? “Oh no, I absolutely want to! I just… I’m sorry.

Yes. Yes, I do. Want to, um, do that. Yes.

So, uh.” I cringe, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me.

“I’ve never— I’m not a virgin!” I quickly add, not wanting her to think I’m inexperienced, even if I am.

“I’m not, I’ve just never hooked up like this, so… I think there are some rooms upstairs?”

Grace seems almost as embarrassed by the situation as I am, yet for some mysterious reason, she plows on. “Okay. So we go there?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s probably a good idea,” I reply, trying to sound casual when I feel anything but. Is this actually happening?

I lead her to one of the small rooms upstairs.

I’ve been here once before, to rescue Derek when he ended up cuffed to the headboard during some kinky game.

Of course, the keys were nowhere to be found.

The maintenance office employee gave me a very suspicious look when I went there to borrow bolt cutters.

Fun times. Now I’m hoping to have actual fun up here.

Grace doesn’t look enthusiastic about the room. “Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. People use these rooms all the time.” Her grimace makes me hurry to add, “It’s early, so no one has been here yet. The bed is clean.” Well, as clean as a bed dozens of people have fucked on since the start of the semester can be. “Yeah, it’s good. For, um, sex.”

Oh my god, what is wrong with me? I can’t even say the word without blushing like an idiot.

Grace hums noncommittally and we share an awkward look. I move away from the door, wordlessly letting her leave if she chooses to. God knows I wouldn’t blame her.

She stays, peering at me through her eyelashes, so I take my shot.

Slowly, still giving her a chance to escape, I cup her cheeks and lean in for a kiss.

She kisses me back, and while it’s not unpleasant, it’s not charged with sexual tension, either.

Or maybe that’s just a thing from romance novels and people don’t really feel that way when kissing someone.

Still, it’s a kiss. I’m kissing a beautiful woman who wants to have sex with me.

I wish I could reach back in time and tell my awkward teenage self that things do get better.

I run my fingers through her hair, marveling at its softness. I still can’t believe this is really happening. Then Grace whispers, “Hurt me. Please.”

It’s like a bucket of cold water dumped on my libido. “What?”

With a feverish expression, she starts undoing my belt. “Spank me. Hard. Please. I’ll make it worth your while, I promise. I give excellent blowjobs. Don’t you want to make me choke on your cock?”

I stare at her mutely, my mouth hanging open. Getting a blowjob sounds great, sure, but this entire situation rubs me the wrong way.

“You’ll love it,” Grace promises, her sultry voice surging to my cock, but the desperate look in her eyes spoils the pleasure.

I grab her wrists. “Wait. Stop. I’m not really into…

that.” Hurting a woman for my pleasure? I know some people are into it, and power to them, but the mere idea horrifies me.

Besides, Grace doesn’t look in the right state of mind for that kind of game.

I can’t think of any good reason for a woman to come up to a stranger at a party and ask to be hurt.

“Are you okay?” I ask, realizing my mistake when her eyes narrow at me.

“I would be if you just did what you were supposed to!” she yells. “Why the hell won’t you just fuck me?”

Because I can’t take advantage of her. Even my cock agrees, my erection nearly all gone. “I think you need help.”

Another wrong thing to say, because Grace’s shouting increases in volume. “Help?! Because I wanted to have sex with you? You’re the one who needs help, you stupid jerk!”

Even over the loud music, someone’s bound to notice the ruckus and come investigate, so I try to deescalate the situation.

“You’re crying,” I explain. “You started crying the moment I kissed you. You’re not okay and I don’t want to make it worse.

” Even though I might already have. “There’s a counselor on the campus. If—”

Grace doesn’t let me finish. “You’re useless!

Useless fucking idiot!” she shouts as she storms out of the room and disappears in the crowd downstairs.

People standing in the hallway laugh at me, whispering to themselves.

They probably think I couldn’t get it up.

Rumors will fly, but I don’t really care about that at the moment.

Slumped on the bed, I hide my face in my hands. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t even get a simple one-night stand right when the woman literally throws herself at me.

I look up as the door creaks, thinking that maybe Grace came back, but there’s an unfamiliar man looming over me. He looks way too old to be a student, and something in his eyes makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and my lizard brain scream “Danger! Danger!”

Assuming he wants to use the room—and not wanting to be around him for longer than necessary—I murmur something about leaving. The next thing I know, he has me pinned to the bed and something cold and infinitely sharp presses against my throat.