Read Online Fighting Heart: Fighting Heart Erotic Bad Boy Romance Series Book 1 by Nicole Hamilton - Free Book Online Page B

engorged manhood swell and throb and his body starting to spasm as the heat in mine became hotter still. I leaned up and seized him and pulled him down onto me, all his weight, and finally he thrust into me deeper than ever, I groaned and orgasmed again and felt his cock spasm and explode, shooting all of his cum deep into me, exactly where I needed him. I kissed his head as we came and held him as he shook. It was so good I didn’t want to let him go. I lay there with Brandon between my thighs and inside me, and felt triumphant. Exultant. I still had my job. I was still on my course. I had just had mind blowing sex with a totally gorgeous guy. And I had got one up on that pretentious Amanda. I wondered smugly how much she had heard of our action in the bedroom. Life couldn’t get much better than this, could it? If it could, I wondered how.
    And yet even then, underneath it all, I already felt a strange little pang. As I kissed Brandon’s shoulder, the way-too-serious part of me wondered if this was the best it would ever get. Had I had it good too early in my student life? Was it all going to go downhill from here? I remember that nagging little voice, and I remember wishing it would just shut up and go away. But I now know that little voice isn’t always wrong.

Nine
     
    I could have showered at Brandon’s place, but even in triumph, basking in the glory of the senses and delights of being with my lion king the night before, I didn’t want to face Amanda and her chums. I woke early just after six. Very early on this Saturday morning. The whole flat was quiet. Brandon had tasted of spirits last night. His performance was, how could I say, outstanding and he was still fast asleep. I leaned over him and gave him a lingering kiss on the forehead before I left, and seeing his chest rise and fall it was hard to resist jumping back under the covers to wake him for another good time, but I resisted, wrote him a quick note saying how much I enjoyed the night and hoped there would be more. That nagging little voice inside my head just wouldn’t let up. I guessed it was just anxiety about work, but I wanted to get back to my flat and get some normality going to tune it out.
    I was back at my flat-share in New Cross by seven fifteen, with a newspaper and a take-away cappuccino. The other girls were asleep, which was exactly what I had hoped for. I drank my coffee and showered, but the antsy feeling didn’t get cleaned away. Dry, finishing the dregs of my coffee, and already dressed for the day, I saw a crisp white envelope, freshly delivered, sitting on the battered old doormat. I saw the crest and stamp of Smiths College and my heart lurched then fell off a cliff. I wished I wasn’t such a fatalist but any news was bad news, I guessed. It was too early for anything else.
    I picked up the letter and opened it before I could get too squeamish. I was scared, because now I knew the antsy feeling was justified. Somehow I had known things were going to get worse, and even the sweet aching left by last night’s tryst couldn’t make this go away.
    When I opened it, I scanned the cream coloured paper so quickly that I didn’t truly read it. But I picked up two things. The Dean had become aware of my absence at classes since our meeting, and that as a matter of urgency, he now needed to collect the first payment immediately as there was concern I was no longer committed to the programme. Concern? The only person with concern was the Dean. Why? Because the man hated me for no good reason. Because he was against people who had no money. I screwed up my coffee cup and tossed it at the bin, growling and put the letter away into the front pocket of my college bag. Whatever the reason the Dean had for not liking me, he had now made my life at college an impossible task. Why did he hate me so much? I guessed I would never find out. But if it was in my power at all, I was going to pay that man all his money pronto, and stuff that cheque