by M L Sparrow
What Happens on Campus Book One
Let the game begin…
After a tragic accident which leaves her tormented by guilt, Chloe Newman accepts a scholarship to study a St. Joseph’s University. Traveling from England to Texas, the last thing she expects is to meet the schools charming quarterback on her first night. However, Parker Mitchell is a player both on and off the field.
Parker is immediately fascinated by Chloe and, after a rocky start, they manage to find a way to make their relationship work despite interference from others on campus, including Parkers jealous ex, and the ghosts that haunt Chloe’s conscience. But, the real test comes when they visit Parker’s family over Christmas break and he finds himself being pulled back into their lifestyle...
Genre: Contemporary RomancePurchase link(s): Amazon AmazonAU AmazonCA AmazonUK
Content/Theme(s): Football, Sports
Release Date: September 1, 2016
Excerpt & More
“Where are you going?” Karla asked, propping herself up on an elbow to watch him as he pulled on his jeans and looked around for his shirt. “Why don’t you just spend the night here?” Smiling seductively, she sat up and let the sheet drop.
Parker couldn’t help but look, what guy could resist? Karla had a perfect body and great tits, too bad she was as mean as a snake when she wasn’t trying to sweet-talk a guy into her bed.
“Come on, Kar,” he sighed – he was sick of her games already and he’d only been back on campus a couple of days – “you know how it is. We’re just fuckin’, nothin’ else. I’m not cuddlin’ you like some doe-eyed freshman you got wrapped around your finger.”
“Fuck you, Parker,” she spat angrily, seductive look completely gone, “I wouldn’t date you if you were the last guy on earth.”
Laughing, he found his shirt slung over the desk and pulled it on. “You already fucked me and it was amazin’. You’re one of my favorite booty calls.”
“You’re such a dick,” she raged, still gloriously naked, “get out of my room.”
“A minute ago you asked me to stay.”
“Aaahh! Get out!” She threw the bottle of water on the bedside table at his head.
Dodging the missile easily, he scooped up his sneakers, jammed his baseball cap onto his head and left, still laughing.
He should probably feel bad for acting like such a jerk, he thought as he knelt to tie his laces in the hallway, but Karla could take it; she was as mean as they came and he couldn’t force himself to feel sorry for treating her the way she treated everyone else. Anyway, she knew the deal – he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend; he needed to concentrate on football. This was his third year and he had to work extra hard if he wanted to get into the NFL when he graduated. Besides, he didn’t want to be tried down to just one girl, where was the fun in that?
Practice had started yesterday and it had felt good to get back out on the field with his team and best mate Dawson. This year was going to be a great one, he could feel it; the team was fresh and strong, with new talent having joined in the form of several freshmen.
Bypassing the elevator, since it was broken already, he headed for the stairs. Despite what his family thought, university wasn’t all fun and games and he needed to get in a good night’s sleep before practice tomorrow morning.
Halfway down the stairs joining the third and fourth floor, he paused as he turned the corner and saw a girl leaning against the wall with her hands braced on her knees, panting. Beside her stood the most humongous suitcase he’d ever seen, which she’d evidently been hauling up the stairs.
As he watched, she reached down to the black rucksack at her feet and fished out a blue inhaler, taking a couple of puffs before straightening up again and pushing the hair back from her red face.
“D’ya want a hand with that?” he asked, making her jump, her head whipping around to face him. Immediately, he felt his body reacting, even after spending the afternoon screwing around with Karla. The girl was gorgeous. Even with a face as red as a tomato.
Big brown eyes stared up at him in surprise, framed by dramatically long lashes, and for a moment all they did was look at one another, before her face became impossibly redder and she glanced away, biting her lip uncertainly.
“A hand would be great,” she admitted, glancing scathingly down at the big blue suitcase, “it’s really heavy.” Her words didn’t register for a minute as his brain tried to place her accent. British, he thought, clipped and well-rounded. He could listen to her talk forever.
Taking the last few steps, he held out his hand, introducing himself. “Parker Mitchell, at your service.”
“Hi,” she smiled up at him, tucking a strand of dark, coffee colored hair behind her ear before reaching out to shake his hand, “I’m Chloe. Chloe Newman.”
“What floor you on?”
“Sixth,” she answered with a downwards quirk of her lips.
Whistling between his teeth, he grabbed the handle of the suitcase as she picked up her rucksack, putting the inhaler back inside. Half way there, at least.
Lifting the case, he huffed out a breath, “Jesus… I’m impressed you got it this far, it’s probably heavier than you are.”
Wincing guiltily, she twisted a piece of hair around her finger in a nervous gesture. “Sorry. I can probably manage if…”
Laughing, slightly dismayed that she thought he’d let her finish lugging it up the stairs when he was easily twice her size, he shook his head. “I got it. Imagine how bad I’d feel if I woke up tomorrow and found that the cute British girl had a heart attack tryin’ to get to her room.”
“Well, okay then.”
Grinning at the blush that once more filled her cheeks, he gestured up the stairs, “Lead the way.”
If she went in front, he could check out her ass. Not the most gentlemanly thing, but then he’d never claimed to be a gentleman. And she had a good ass. He felt his heart beat faster; she was all lush curves and long, denim clad legs. Tall, for a girl; he was six three and she was only a head or so shorter. He was in deep shit, Parker thought as he followed her up the stairs, trying to tear his eyes away.
By the time they reached the sixth floor, he was sweating. Her suitcase really was fucking heavy. Stopping outside room 605, Chloe turned to him, “This is me. Thank you so much for your help.”
“My pleasure,” he drawled, setting the case down beside her and stepping back. “See you around.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, lifting a hand in farewell as he walked away, “see you.”
When he got back to the stairwell, he couldn’t help but look back, seeing her enter the room and pull the door shut behind her. He should have got her number.
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