At age twenty, Molly Shakespeare knows a lot.
She knows Descartes and Kant.
She knows academia and Oxford.
She knows that the people who love you leave you.
She knows how to be alone.
But when Molly leaves England's grey skies behind to start a new life at the University of Alabama, she finds that she has a lot to learn — she didn't know a summer could be so hot, she didn't know students could be so intimidating, and she certainly didn't know just how much the folks of Alabama love their football.
When a chance encounter with notorious star quarterback, Romeo Prince, leaves her unable to think of anything but his chocolate-brown eyes, dirty-blond hair and perfect physique, Molly soon realises that her quiet, solitary life is about to dramatically change forever...
Mature New Adult novel — contains adult content, highly sexual situations and mature topics. Suited for ages 18 and up*
“For the initiation task, we will be using brothers from our linked fraternity. You will be blindfolded and will have to kiss—with tongues—a fellow Greek brother and guess the food they’ve just eaten. It’s not a lot to show your commitment, and we will all get a great laugh from it.” Shelly tossed her shampoo advert-worthy hair to the rest of the sorority sisters, who all giggled in response.
I didn’t like the sound of this.
I grabbed Lexi’s arm and leaned in close. “I thought you said hazing wasn’t allowed anymore due to some recent scandal or something? Look at those blindfolds. This is going cause us all to be completely humiliated—that certifies as friggin’ hazing! I can’t do this, Lexi. I’m way out of my depth here.”
Lexi hit me with her black-rimmed puppy-dog eyes. “Please, Molls. For me? It’s not exactly bad hazing; it’s just a kiss with a guy, for God’s sake!”
I dropped my head and groaned. There was no use fighting her. She’d only cry on me again, giving me a guilt trip. “You totally owe me one!”
“Walk to the table and take a blindfold. We’ll put you in a line and the guys will be brought in,” Shelly sang, thoroughly enjoying herself at our expense.
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We did as commanded, and after a few minutes, I heard the door click open and several pairs of feet shuffle into the room. I sensed someone stand before me and nearly puked at the stench. He had liquor and strong, putrid body odour humming out of his pores.
“When I tap y’all on the shoulder, make out, guess the food correctly, and you’ll be in—simple,” Shelly informed with a gleeful lilt.
I could tell I was at the end of the line because when I waved a hand out beside me, all I felt was thin air.
I would be the last pledge last to go.
The distinct sound of slurping tongues and girls making guesses filled the room, and a chorus of sorority sisters emitting bitchy laughs mid-process came from every direction.
I could feel my pulse racing in nervous apprehension and my hands fidgeted, betraying my burgeoning panic.
Time seemed to still as my turn approached. The frat guy smelled… bad. But I’d do it for Lexi.
A light tap on my back signalled that it was my turn. I braced myself and leaned forward, only to feel a rush of air pass my head and a loud crash come from the side, male laughter echoing around me.
“Move, Macmillan. I think you’re in my spot,” a deep voice drawled.
“Ah n-no… B-b-bullet! Shelly said… said…” Macmillan slurred from the direction of the floor, semi-coherently.
“I don’t give a shit what she said. Go and get a fuckin’ drink, or pass out, or somethin’. You get me?” The menace in this ‘Bullet’ guy’s voice was unmistakable.
“I-I get you. I get you, man.”
I had no clue what was going on or who would be fighting over kissing me. This day just kept getting weirder and weirder by the second.
“Wait! Mac has to—” Shelly shouted.
“Shut the fuck up, Shel.” His tone left no room for argument, and Shelly fell silent.
I was busy chewing on my thumbnail—a nervous habit I adopt in uncomfortable situations—when my new frat guy moved before me, smelling deliciously better than the previous person—summer, soap, and mint. It was familiar. Comforting. Enticing.
Copyright©Tilliecole2013 All Rights Reserved
A large, calloused hand pulled my thumb from my mouth and placed it on a hard waist. My fingers crept along the cotton-like fabric covering his torso, identifying the ridges of hard muscle and defined abdominals underneath.
Blindfolding was definitely a sensory awakening; you smelled, felt, and heard so much more.
Hands grasped both sides of my face and I could feel the moment he began to move in towards me, only to suddenly caress my lips, teasingly, softly with his own.
Without warning, my captor expelled a frustrated groan, dropping any gentleness, and his eager, wet tongue invaded my mouth, duelling against mine, fighting for control. I gave it over gladly. There was no other choice.
I’d never felt anything like it.