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Looking for Trouble: Nashville U, #1 by Stacey Lewis (1)


The minute I walk into the club, I’m surrounded by tits and ass. Big tits, small boobs, the kind of breasts that fill your hands perfectly; big booty, tiny butt, and my favorite—a girl with a tight ass. There’s no better thing on Earth than a girl with a tight ass and high, round breasts. Just thinking about it makes my cock perk up and take notice. In fact, by the time I make it over to where the football team sits, I’m half hard. My situation gets worse when I take a seat across from Liam and Meghan straddles my lap, her tits at my eye level. And what a nice set they are. I’m intimately acquainted with them—more than a handful, light pink nipples that harden at the slightest touch, soft but firm and completely natural. We spent the majority of our free time either in her bed or mine during football season, not to mention that one time in the front seat of my car. So I’m damn-near best friends with her chest.

I only get a few seconds to reminisce about her body before her mouth is on mine and her tongue is tracing the seam of my lips, requesting access that I readily give. She knows just how I like it, how much tongue to use, how much teeth. My semi quickly turns into a full-blown hard-on when Meghan slowly grinds my second favorite part of her body against my favorite part of mine. Most guys are all about the pussy, but that’s not me. Not that I don’t love it, I just love breasts more. The grinding is a short-lived pleasure, though. Just as I place my hands on her hips to direct her in a way that will pleasure us both the most, she pulls away.

Turning her lithe body slightly, she leans back to grab something off the table, pushing her fantastic tits close enough to my face that if we were in private, well, let’s just say I’d be practicing my motorboat skills. Meg quickly turns back to face me, a shot glass full of amber liquid in her hand. Noticing the objects of my attention, she grins wickedly, shaking them, before placing the shot carefully between her heavenly mounds. Yeah, that sounded corny as all fuck, but they are definitely my idea of heaven.

To reward her for her quick thinking, I don’t go straight for the shot. Meghan’s tight, royal blue, low-cut top starts just above her distended nipples, showing she’s obviously not wearing a bra—not that she needs one—and I can’t resist tasting her skin. The slight sheen on her pale skin tells me she was dancing before I got here, and the small bit of sweat makes me think about all the times she’s been beneath me, over me, around me over the past few months. I keep my eyes on her as I extend my tongue just enough to trace the edge of her top. I’m close enough that I can feel and hear her heart rate and breathing speed up.

Knowing she’s turned on by just that small action causes one side of my mouth to tip up in a smirk. Her hands slide up my arms, and I know from experience that soon they will grip my hair, keeping me right where she wants me. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but I do want that shot. So before she can reach my shoulders, I lean in, gripping the shot glass with my teeth, and tip my head back, the liquid burning down my throat.

Meghan smiles down at me as she removes the shot glass from my mouth, locking her lips with mine once again and licking the remnants of alcohol off my lips before slipping her tongue back inside my mouth. The shot glass in her hand is forgotten as she grinds down on my lap, her hips moving to the music and her breath turning into pants as my lips break apart from hers and travel down her jaw to her throat.

She smells like a mixture of fruity perfume and arousal, a scent that has my jeans feeling three sizes too small. The sounds of my former teammates talking and ribbing each other are barely discernible over the sound of my heartbeat. All I can concentrate on is the fact that my cock is hard and the girl on my lap is more than willing. It would take just a few minutes to lead her down a dark hallway to find a corner, the door to a stockroom, the door to an alley, or whatever.

Deciding to do just that, I bite down just hard enough for her to feel my teeth on the tender skin where her neck meets her shoulder before I pull the shot glass from her limp fingers and drop it on the table behind her back. Liam’s low chuckle catches my attention, and I raise my eyes to see him smirking at me knowingly. One side of my mouth tips up against her skin as he lifts a hand into a fist, prompting me to meet it with mine. He knows me well.

Trailing my lips back up her throat, I murmur in her ear. “Come with me for a minute?” She nods, slightly out of breath, her skin flushed and hips still moving in small circles on my lap. I pull back, kissing her briefly on her parted lips, and she sighs. I start to help her up when a disgusted sound comes from behind me. Meghan stiffens, looking over my shoulder, her eyes narrowed.

“Do you have a problem?” she asks.

The voice that answers is one I know well. She’s been pissing me off for as long as I’ve known her—more than five years now. “Yeah, I do actually,” she huffs. “If I’d wanted to watch porn, I’d do it online.” Her haughty tone pisses me off and amuses me equally. She’s been hanging out with Peyton too much. I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face as I stand, turning to see her frown.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Kitty Kat? Are you jealous?” I lean in, bending so we’re eye to eye, my deep blue to her warm brown. “All you have to do is say the word and I’ll let you join us.” She starts to roll her eyes, opening her mouth to retort, but my next words stop whatever she was going to say. “Maybe Meghan can teach you how to get a man.” Kat’s eyes practically shoot flames, but she doesn’t reply. Her hands turn into fists at her sides, and she almost shakes with anger, but she only lifts her chin. She looks at me like I’m nothing, like I can’t say anything to her that will matter, but I know her well enough by now to know my words cut her, exactly the way I wanted them to.

When she still doesn’t snap back at me, I walk closer, my arm brushing her shoulder as I pull Meghan past her. My brother Max stands behind her, along with my cousin Emmett and his girlfriend, though I use the term loosely, Liv. Max is glaring at me, but he won’t say anything either. He and Kat are made for each other, neither willing to stand up for themselves or anyone else. The pussy and the kitten. It’s a match made in heaven.