Searching For Moore by Julie A. Richman
Chapter Four
GETTING SETTLED INthe first few weeks of college turned out to be more of a juggling act than Schooner had anticipated. Classes. Studying. Tennis practice (he was determined to make first string his freshman year). Learning to live with a roommate (Beau Gordon was a trip, he could not sleep without the radio on all night and hated the way headphones felt). And CJ. Schooner had already started dating the prom queen, who had been, yes, in fact, the prom queen at her high school.
CJ MacAllister was well-schooled in getting precisely what she wanted, and from that very first day of freshman orientation, Schooner Moore was everything she wanted. Incredibly handsome, smart, athletic, from a well-to-do California family. Schooner Moore was the bomb. And she was going to get him. And never let go. Their children would be magnificent. And CJ MacAllister was going to be the mother of Schooner Moore’s children.
CJ started to show up at the tennis courts to watch Schooner practice. She always brought a friend or two (Bitches, Schooner thought, laughing to himself, travel in packs.). He wasn’t past putting on a show for the girls, taking his shirt off at the end of practice and letting them watch the sweat run down his impressive golden pecs toward his six-pack abs. Her friends would suddenly disappear when it was time for Schooner to get off the courts, leaving CJ waiting alone for him.
After a few days of walking CJ back to her dorm, she invited Schooner up to her room. Acting coy and coquettish (acting, being the operative word… and he was aware of that, but let her act), they had a hot make out session.
Schooner backed CJ up to her bed with its Victorian Rose pattern spread and gently pushed her down onto it. Propped up on her elbows, looking up at him innocently through long lashes, Schooner quickly recognized that CJ knew just how to get to him. This was clearly not her first rodeo, although she wanted him to believe that it was. He also knew, two could play this game and it would be so much fun to make sure he controlled it. Controlled a girl who always got what she wanted—no problem, he thought. Schooner was the master.
Sliding on top of her, he kissed her deeply, her tongue meeting his perfectly in its dance. As his hands slid up the back of her thighs, he pressed in gently until she wrapped her long legs around his waist. The bulge in his tennis shorts was straining against his zipper and all he wanted to do was take it out and give it to her, hard. Cupping his hands on her perfectly rounded ass, he pressed his hard package against her moist underwear and she moaned.
“Feels good?” he asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” was all she could muster, as he relentlessly ground himself and rammed against her underwear.
Locking eyes, he ran his thumb and forefinger over the front of her pink cotton blouse until he could feel her nipple harden to his touch, never letting up on the intensity and the motion until her nipple felt like a stone. It was only then that his thumb relented, as he dipped his head and sucked it through her shirt, biting it and pulling it with his front teeth.
Her sounds were telling him that she was coming undone fast.
Grabbing her ass again, he pulled her into him, pressing the bulge in his tennis shorts tighter against her.
CJ strained against him, desperately trying to rub herself against his hardness and get herself off on the friction.
And without removing a single piece of her clothes or his, Schooner Moore gave CJ MacAllister one mind blowing orgasm.
He dropped her back on the bed, looking dazed and still quaking, as he adjusted the raging hard on in his now too tight, uncomfortable shorts.
“Thanks for coming to see me practice today.” Leaning forward, he gave her a rough kiss on her already bruised lips, grabbed his tennis racquets and turned to leave CJ’s dorm room. Stopping at the door long enough to turn to her, he graced her with a full-blown killer smile and reveled in how utterly stupefied she looked.
Carrying his racquets in front of him, to hide the sizable erection he was sporting, Schooner left the all-girls dorm with a smug smile on his face. Tables turned, Prom Queen! She’d be giving it all to him in no time flat, without having to wait for her to play the virgin game, deciding if she should “let him be the one.” He’d met enough cock-teasing prom queens in his life. This was college now, and if CJ MacAllister wanted him, then she was going to play by his rules.
Four days later they became lovers.