Christmas Break by Boroughs Publishing Group Page A

sort of way. Thick, gorgeous reddish-brown hair tied
in a ponytail tumbled down her back in sexy disarray. I itched to
loosen the band and feel her hair slide across my body as she rode
me into oblivion. Hey, I’m a young, athletic, horny guy, and she
was one hot woman. Even better, she didn’t fall at my feet and
worship the turf my cleats trod on. Instead she glared at me with
disdain and suspicion. I leaned back against the ratty booth and
fingered a torn piece of vinyl, just like I wanted to be fingering
her.
    Her sweet face contradicted her sinner’s
body. She had this flawlessly pale skin and huge, expressive green
eyes. Right now those eyes were expressing a lot, most of it not
good, at least not as far as her opinion of me.
    She tapped her pencil on the Formica table,
and a yellow butterfly perched on a pink flower peeked out from
beneath her shirt sleeve. I wanted to see more. A lot more. I
wondered if those tattoos went up her arm, across her chest, and
down to her crotch. Had her entire body been a canvas for a tattoo
artist? Oh, yeah, I wondered. The women I’d dated might have a
subtle tattoo here or there, but nothing like what I suspected hid
under those clothes.
    “What can I get you?” Her voice vibrated
with a husky sexuality, like she’d smoked too many packs of
cigarettes.
    I pried my tongue from the roof of my mouth
and attempted casual conversation. “I’ll have a beer and a bacon
cheeseburger with fries. Everything on it.”
    “ID.” She held out her hand, sounding all
bored and sexy and floating in attitude.
    I whipped out my wallet and flipped it open.
She eyed it, eyed me, eyed it again. I waited for recognition to
cross her beautiful face. You’d have to be dead or a hermit not to
know my name around this place, even if you aren’t a football
fan.
    Nothing. Without comment, she scribbled my
order on a worn pad and sashayed toward a table of customers who
were getting ready to leave, her hips swinging and her ass
beckoning me to follow.
    Not that she actually wanted me to follow
her ass or her, which both intrigued me and turned me on. Women
fall at my feet, strip off their clothes and give me whatever I
want in any position I want it. But not this girl. Her disinterest
challenged me, and as a competitive guy, I rarely back down from a
challenge.
    I wasn’t about to start.

 
    Chapter 2
Pre-Christmas Eve
Aubrey
    Oh my God, Braxton Davis. The Braxton Davis .
    The most popular guy on campus, star of the
football team, and more gorgeous at close range than he looked
across the lecture hall or on the football field. He’d walked in
the door as if he owned the place and sauntered across the room
with the powerful grace of a panther on the prowl. Six-foot-four
with a mane of dark, wavy hair, sexy stubble, and piercing
turquoise blue eyes, he towered over my five-foot-two height.
    I couldn’t believe he’d come into my bar
when every other student had scattered to the four corners of the
state days ago. I knew why I wasn’t going home for Christmas, but
what was his story?
    It had been so dead, Marta went home. That
meant I was alone in the bar with him—not that he worried me. I
could hold my own with guys a lot scarier than Braxton, even though
he stared intently as if I was going to be his midnight snack.
    Of course, not a glimmer of recognition
showed on his face, even as he stripped me with his eyes. As
seniors in communications, we’d shared more than one class together
over the past few years, but Braxton always sat in the back of the
classroom or lecture hall and hung with his buddies, while I sat in
the front like the good student I was—even though I don’t look the
part. But, hey, I ditched the nose ring, kept my tats covered, and
tried to fit in.
    To prevent myself from going all fan-girl on
the arrogant ass, I shifted into my normal mode of self-protection
by copping an attitude. Unfortunately, if the spark in his eyes was
any indication, my act might’ve backfired.