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Book: Convenient Fall (Players of Marycliff University Book 2) by Jerica MacMillan
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Authors: Jerica MacMillan
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before she could make contact. “Watch it. I don't like being hit.”
She twisted her arm in his grip, catching him off guard and going against his thumb so that he was forced to release her. “And I don't like assholes interrupting me when I'm trying to have a good time!” She turned and stormed back inside.
Chris didn't let her get far before he was after her. With the press of people going in and out of the door, it wasn't hard to catch up. He followed close behind her until his front almost touched her back. She cast a glare over her shoulder, but didn't say anything. She pushed through the crowd, headed for the living room.
Lance sat on the couch with Abby in his lap, talking to some of their mutual friends. Lance looked up when Abby started to get off his lap. Before Abby and Megan could get to each other, Chris swooped in and pulled Megan toward the front door. Lance watched all this, and he stopped Abby with a hand on her leg, tugging on her hand to convince her to sit back down. Chris lifted his chin in Lance's direction in thanks. Abby didn't look like she was going to give in, but he saw Lance say something and she relaxed back into him.
Too bad Megan didn't give in as easily. She struggled against his grip, but since he had her by the upper arm, she couldn't do that twist thing to get away again. He dragged her out through the front door, away from the bulk of the crowd so they could speak without shouting (not that he thought that was going to happen) and they'd be less likely to be interrupted. When he was satisfied with their location, he dragged Megan around to face him and let her go.
That might have been a mistake, since she immediately stepped in to hit him again. They were open palm slaps against his chest, more to vent than to try to hurt. At least he hoped so. From the way she'd almost punched him in the kidney, he was pretty sure she'd be punching him if she wanted to try to hurt him. Which she did next. Hard. Right in the solar plexus. He bent at the waist as his breath whooshed out with a grunt.
With his head closer to her level she started shouting at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you interrupt my dancing and then drag me out here!” She slapped him on the cheek next. That stung. “Don't you ever manhandle me like that again!”
He straightened up, rubbing his cheek. “You done?”
She tipped her head back to glare at him. Man, she was pissed. “I’m not sure. It depends on what stupid thing you do or say next. I might have to knee you in the balls.”
He grunted in response and ran a hand over his face to cover the smile that was fighting to get out. If she thought he'd let her get close enough to get his balls, she'd be in for a surprise.
She stared at him, waiting. After a minute she threw her hands up in exasperation. “Are you going to answer me? Or should I hit you some more until I feel better?”
“What was the question again?”
She took a step toward him, and he readied himself to block a strike to the groin. Instead, she got right up in his space and he could smell her shampoo. “I asked you what. The. Fuck. Your. Problem. Is.” She emphasized each word with a smack to the chest.
He grabbed her wrist, tired of being used as her personal punching bag. “Enough. I took it when you hit me earlier because I deserved it, but that's enough.” He crowded into her personal space even more, bringing his body flush against hers. Her head was tipped back, her eyes wide, her lips parted. He wanted to kiss her. He'd been wanting to kiss her for months now. And he wanted her more now than he'd ever wanted anyone before. “As for what my problem is, you're my problem.”
At his words, the pissed off expression took over her face again. “What the hell does that mean? I haven't done anything to you!”
“Fuck, Megan. I can't stand watching you dance with all these other guys, seeing them put their hands all over you, groping you. And you
She twisted her arm in his grip, catching him off guard and going against his thumb so that he was forced to release her. “And I don't like assholes interrupting me when I'm trying to have a good time!” She turned and stormed back inside.
Chris didn't let her get far before he was after her. With the press of people going in and out of the door, it wasn't hard to catch up. He followed close behind her until his front almost touched her back. She cast a glare over her shoulder, but didn't say anything. She pushed through the crowd, headed for the living room.
Lance sat on the couch with Abby in his lap, talking to some of their mutual friends. Lance looked up when Abby started to get off his lap. Before Abby and Megan could get to each other, Chris swooped in and pulled Megan toward the front door. Lance watched all this, and he stopped Abby with a hand on her leg, tugging on her hand to convince her to sit back down. Chris lifted his chin in Lance's direction in thanks. Abby didn't look like she was going to give in, but he saw Lance say something and she relaxed back into him.
Too bad Megan didn't give in as easily. She struggled against his grip, but since he had her by the upper arm, she couldn't do that twist thing to get away again. He dragged her out through the front door, away from the bulk of the crowd so they could speak without shouting (not that he thought that was going to happen) and they'd be less likely to be interrupted. When he was satisfied with their location, he dragged Megan around to face him and let her go.
That might have been a mistake, since she immediately stepped in to hit him again. They were open palm slaps against his chest, more to vent than to try to hurt. At least he hoped so. From the way she'd almost punched him in the kidney, he was pretty sure she'd be punching him if she wanted to try to hurt him. Which she did next. Hard. Right in the solar plexus. He bent at the waist as his breath whooshed out with a grunt.
With his head closer to her level she started shouting at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you interrupt my dancing and then drag me out here!” She slapped him on the cheek next. That stung. “Don't you ever manhandle me like that again!”
He straightened up, rubbing his cheek. “You done?”
She tipped her head back to glare at him. Man, she was pissed. “I’m not sure. It depends on what stupid thing you do or say next. I might have to knee you in the balls.”
He grunted in response and ran a hand over his face to cover the smile that was fighting to get out. If she thought he'd let her get close enough to get his balls, she'd be in for a surprise.
She stared at him, waiting. After a minute she threw her hands up in exasperation. “Are you going to answer me? Or should I hit you some more until I feel better?”
“What was the question again?”
She took a step toward him, and he readied himself to block a strike to the groin. Instead, she got right up in his space and he could smell her shampoo. “I asked you what. The. Fuck. Your. Problem. Is.” She emphasized each word with a smack to the chest.
He grabbed her wrist, tired of being used as her personal punching bag. “Enough. I took it when you hit me earlier because I deserved it, but that's enough.” He crowded into her personal space even more, bringing his body flush against hers. Her head was tipped back, her eyes wide, her lips parted. He wanted to kiss her. He'd been wanting to kiss her for months now. And he wanted her more now than he'd ever wanted anyone before. “As for what my problem is, you're my problem.”
At his words, the pissed off expression took over her face again. “What the hell does that mean? I haven't done anything to you!”
“Fuck, Megan. I can't stand watching you dance with all these other guys, seeing them put their hands all over you, groping you. And you
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