The Graham Effect (Campus Diaries, #1)

“Please try.”

“Patrick—the one we call the Kansas Kid—has this pathetic habit of falling in love after knowing a chick for, like, ten seconds. And once he falls, he does this love bombing thing with romantic messages and flowers—”

“Don’t judge him. You get me flowers all the time.”

“Twice,” I growl. “That doesn’t count as all the time.”

“It’s two times more flower-giving than I would ever expect from you.”

She’s got me there.

“Anyway, last year, it was the first round of the playoffs and not a single person expected us to pull out a win. We were playing the number one team in the conference—they were on a twenty-game winning streak at that point. So an hour before the game, Patrick accidentally sends a message meant for his new true love to our team chat. Goes without saying that we all ragged him mercilessly for it.”

“But you won the game,” she guesses.

“Yup.”

“Hockey players and their superstitions.”

She scrolls through the thread again, giggling. “Do you seriously send this message before every game?”

“Unfortunately.”

She props herself on her elbow, remorseful. “I’m sorry I accused you of lying to me.”

“I don’t lie,” I say simply. “Hell, my honesty gets me in trouble with chicks almost all of the time.”

“I’m an ass for thinking it.”

“I’m always going to be honest with you. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“I know, and I love that about you.” She sighs. “I may…have overreacted a little.”

“A little?” I smirk. “PS jealous Gigi is hot.”

“I wasn’t jealous—”

She squeaks happily when I flip her onto her back and press my lips to one bare breast. A moment later, I’m sucking on her nipple.

I swear, keeping my hands and mouth and dick off this woman is truly impossible.

I nuzzle a path down her body until I’m lying between her legs, my cock pressed against the mattress. I kiss the smooth skin of her inner thighs, leaving a trail of kisses on my way to my destination. I slide one finger inside her to test how ready she is. She whimpers in response.

“As a young lad,” I narrate, “I met a hockey player with the tightest pussy. She would make the hottest noises when I fingered her. And now… let me take you there.”

Gigi looks delighted. “Admit it. You love Horizons.”

“Nah. I love this.”

I push my finger in deep, which causes her ass to rock off the bed, sending her core directly into my face.

I waste no time capturing her clit between my lips, licking gently. My efforts are rewarded with another whimper, followed by soft, anxious moans when I start licking her in earnest. I make her come, and she barely gives herself time to recover before she grabs at my shoulders and yanks me up so I’m on top of her. Nobody’s even touched my dick and it’s ready to burst. I’m painfully hard.

“I don’t have any condoms,” I mumble, kissing her neck. “We used them up yesterday.” She’s been over a couple of times this week already. “Didn’t get a chance to restock.”

“Oooh, I bet someone is dying for my value pack now,” she teases, beaming up at me.

“Bring them over next time,” I agree, because I genuinely never expect how many times I end up inside her when we’re in the same room together.

“Or…” She bites her lip.

I wait for her to go on.

“After our sexual health talk in the sauna, maybe we can go without.”

My dick wholly approves, judging by the pre-come leaking out of it.

We spend the next hour in bed. I hold off on finishing because I’m in the mood to torture myself a little. So I fuck her nice and slow, making her come a second time before I finally reward myself. Gigi is on her back, her tits bearing a rosy flush as she gasps in pleasure. She looks so sexy that when I feel the pleasure build, I pull out and stroke myself instead, getting off to the sight of her perfect tits and gorgeous face.

Afterward, we lie there, me in my boxers, her buck naked, and discuss tonight’s respective games.

“Those were some crazy moves you did in the third,” I tell her. “Someone posted a couple clips online. Shane and I were watching them on the bus ride home.”

“Hmmm. But were they Olympic moves?” I love the way her voice sounds after sex. Drowsy. Lazy like molasses.

“You and your lofty goals.”

“Actually, my original goal—at least when I was a kid—was to win the Stanley Cup.”

I chuckle.

“I mean, I already had the nickname. Did I tell you my whole family calls me Stan? God, it’s obnoxious.”

“You got the nickname because you wanted to win the Cup?”

“No, I got it because I thought Stanley Cup was a person until I was six. I’ve been Stan ever since. But it wasn’t until I was around eight that I realized I could never actually win it.”

She snuggles closer. I run hot and she runs cold, so it’s perfect. Her body cools me down and I heat hers up. I’m not a spiritual man, but in my sex-loosened brain, I suddenly wonder if somewhere, somehow, maybe someone designed us to fit this well together.

“Boston won the Cup that year, and I was so happy. I told Dad how excited I was to get older and win it myself. And that’s when he broke the news that as a girl, that wasn’t really an option.” Gigi laughs quietly. “Man, I just started bawling. There’s a trail behind our house, and I ran off crying my eyes out. I wanted to be left alone, but I was a kid and obviously my parents weren’t going to allow it. Dad found me and sat me down on a log, wiped away my tears, and promised I’d have something even better than a Stanley Cup win: I was going to be the best female hockey player ever to walk the earth.”

I smile at the story.

She snorts. “Then he’s like, oh, and do I want to see the Cup? Turned out it was in our living room because every member of the team has the chance to take it home, and as the most valuable player that season, Dad had first dibs.”

“Goddamn, your life is incredible.”

“Anyway, having that aspiration taken away from me made me focus on the opportunities that were available. What was the highest mountain I could climb, if it wasn’t the Stanley Cup? And I decided it was Olympic gold.” She shrugs. “So that’s the most important thing now.”

“To you or to your dad?”

“He never pushed me to aim for Team USA. I did that for myself. And I want it for myself. But I guess, yeah, a part of me wants it for him too. I want to make him proud.”

“I’m sure he already is.”

“No, I know he is.” Her hand strokes my pecs, and I feel her demeanor change, grow frustrated. “I want to make that team, Ryder. And I should be able to make it! But I haven’t heard from Brad Fairlee since the beginning of the semester.”

“From what I know about that selection process, it’s vague and not always on a timeline. All you gotta do is keep playing the way you’re playing, and you’ll get your shot,” I assure her.

“What if I don’t?” Her body clenches, and I run my hand over her back. She relaxes slightly. Then her tone hardens with resolve. “No, I will. Because the alternative is unacceptable and something I refuse to allow. It will happen. I’m going to will it into fucking existence if I have to.”

Her ferocity is sexy.

Gigi sits up then, yawning. “Ack, I should go. I don’t want to be dragging at morning skate tomorrow.”

Wincing, she looks down at her chest. Her breasts are sticky with my semen.

“You came on me,” she accuses.

I snort. “Yeah, you saw it happen.”

“Can I take a quick shower? I don’t want to put my bra on over this.”

“Only if I can join you.”

“Deal. Are you sure we’re in the clear?”

“We should be. I’m pretty sure Beckett is out. Shane’s home, but he knows about this. Although I can’t say he’ll be covering for us anymore after the whole porn addiction seminar.” Another wave of laughter spills out. “Christ, I wish you were there.”

I tug her off the bed, hauling her naked body over one shoulder in a fireman’s carry.