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Authors: Jennifer Sucevic

Stay

 

Stay

By

Jennifer Sucevic

 

 

Copyright 2015 by Jennifer Sucevic

Kindle Edition

All Rights Reserved.  This book is licensed for your enjoyment only.  This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction.  Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner.  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

 

 

Also by Jennifer Sucevic

Confessions of a Heartbreaker

Forgotten

 

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

About the Author

 

 

Chapter One

 

Shaking my head, I watch as my roommate, Brooklyn, busts out all her best moves on the makeshift dance floor.  She’s the tall blonde dancing with her hands twisting in the air almost as if she’s doing a very sad Stevie Nicks impersonation.

I almost wince.

Yeah… it’s that bad.

If I had to guess, I would say that Brooklyn isn’t feeling the slightest bit of pain at the moment.  I’m sure the liquid refreshment currently on tap is to be thanked for that.  I’m hoping tomorrow will be a completely different story.  She deserves the hangover-to-end-all-hangovers for dragging me to this God awful excuse to drink beer, get rowdy, and troll for a hook up or two.

My plan for the remainder of this evening consists of staying inconspicuously tucked away in the back corner and sipping my tepid diet soda because being a girl and walking around at a drunken fraternity party is apparently an unofficial invitation to have your ass groped by some random dude. Or should I say random
dudes
because this has now happened twice.  And a third time will very likely push me right over the edge of my douchebag tolerance limit for the evening.

The objective tonight is to keep an eye on Brooklyn and when the clock strikes twelve, drag her ass out of here… and I’m totally okay if it’s kicking and screaming.  Impatiently I glance at my cell phone for probably the twentieth time in the last two hours.

It’s only eleven.

This has officially become painful. 

I’m unfortunately snapped out of my dark thoughts on just how I will torture Brooklyn when a stray hand slides its way across my jean covered butt.

Seriously?

Even though I try to control it, my heartbeat hitches for just a moment before I spin around with tightened fists, ready to knock some unsuspecting jerk senseless.

“Excuse me,” I all but snarl through tightly clenched teeth, “get your damn hand off my ass before I break every single bone in your fingers!”  And contrary to what you might think, it’s not an idle threat.  I’ll do it.  As I turn, my eyes slam into probably the widest, burliest chest I’ve ever had the sad misfortune to inspect this up close and personal.

A sigh of disgust leaves my downturned lips before I can rein it back in.

Perfect.

Very slowly I crane my neck up, up, up until I’m finally able to glare into his eyes.  The freakishly large oaf now standing in front of me has the audacity to smile lazily, his gaze happily blurred.  “Hey sexy, want to dance?” 

The guy barely looks able to stand up straight let alone move his gargantuan body out on the dance floor.  If he goes down, it’ll be like a massive tree falling.  And I don’t even want to think about the huge mark he’ll inevitably leave on his potential dance victim.

My brows draw together in aggravation before I quickly shake my head.  “No, I don’t want to dance.  What I’d actually like is for you to remove your hand from my ass.”

Because, believe it or not, it’s still there.

He actually has the nerve to widen his grin before squeezing my butt cheek in that massive paw of his.  My eyes flare wide with shock and I think steam actually pours out of my ears.

Oh hell no- that did
not
just happen.

Wiping the disgust from my face, I give him my best come hither smile.  Just because I never use these kinds of tactics doesn’t mean I don’t know how.  His already dilated eyes widen like he’s just hit the jackpot.  Stepping a bit closer to the big knuckle dragging Neanderthal, I crook my finger kind of all sexy-like until he bends down.  When our lips are close enough to touch, I drag my mouth to his ear.  Then, before I can utter a single word, I clamp my fingers around his balls (which are, in case you’re wondering, oversized just like the rest of him) in what I seriously hope is a death grip.  Just for good measure, I give them a little twist.  He hisses out a breath in response.

Now that I have his undivided attention, I growl, “If you don’t get your damn hand off my ass immediately, I will continue squeezing until something pops.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” he squeaks, sounding almost faint.

Not a second later, he releases my offended butt cheek.

And I, in return, release his still intact nuts.  But not before I tighten my fingers one last time to drive home the gravity of the predicament this moron now finds himself in.  For about ten seconds we glare at each other before he carefully backs away from me and my nut clenching fingers.  As he does, his face gets all sad and mopey like I’ve done something wrong which is seriously laughable.

Frankly, I’m still pissed as hell.

“You’re not a very nice girl,” he mutters like a cross child before taking a huge gulp of what I assume to be beer from a big red plastic cup.

Rather unattractively I snort in response.  “Nope.  But hopefully you’ve learned a valuable lesson regarding the pitfalls of grabbing some unsuspecting girl’s ass.”  Although, gaging from his unapologetic stance towards me, my guess is that he has not taken this lesson to heart.  On second thought- “Just refrain from grabbing
any
girl’s ass. Contrary to what you apparently think- we don’t like it. 
At all
.”

“Some girls do,” he pipes up still sporting an intense frowny face which is probably supposed to make me feel bad.  It doesn’t.

Eyes narrowing, I shake my head.  “No, we don’t.  It’s degrading and just plain rude.”

He smirks before sneering, “No one’s ever complained before.”

Not only do I find that comment completely dubious but I can almost feel my blood pressure sky rocketing.  Yep, Brooklyn is definitely a dead woman because this party has moved beyond painful to full out tortuous. “What’s your name?”

“Alex Mc-”

I hold up my hand effectively cutting him off.  “That’s enough.”  For just a moment, my eyes fly around the general vicinity we’re standing in.  Luckily, as packed as this massive party is, it doesn’t take long to find exactly what I’m looking for.  “Excuse me,” I shout over the pulsating music at a pretty girl walking past us.  With a smile gracing her lips, she turns.  The high wattage smile slips from her face once she realizes that she doesn’t know who the hell either one of us are.

Before she’s able to make a hasty get away, I quickly launch into my spiel.  “Hi, what’s your name?”

Her gaze, which is slightly blurry as well (jeez, are there seriously no sober people at this party?), quickly bounces between Alex and myself.  I can tell she’s hesitant to give me any information.

“Stacy.”

I give her my most reassuring smile.  “Hi, Stacy, I’m Cassidy and this is,” I point to the obnoxious buffoon standing next to me, “Alex.  We’re having a little disagreement that we need settled.  Would you mind weighing in on the matter?”

With Stacy still looking uncertain, I barrel on.  “My friend here thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to walk around a party grabbing the butts of girls he doesn’t know.  And furthermore, he’s under the distinct impression that we enjoy it.  I’m just wondering if you might have any thoughts on the matter.”

Stacy no longer looks hesitant or uncertain as her heated gaze swings back to Alex.  Then, in a big sweeping gesture, she jerks her hands out in front of her.  “What makes you think any girl would enjoy being touched by some random dude she doesn’t even know?”

Alex opens his mouth as if he might actually have a rebuttal in mind, but Stacy has other ideas.  Like screeching at him in a very high, potentially eardrum shattering voice. “Where do you get off thinking you can grope a girl simply because you’re drunk at a party?  Is there something seriously wrong with you?  Do you have any concept that we’re living in the twenty-first century?”

Alex snaps his mouth shut and even though it’s fairly difficult, I do my best to suppress the smile that is desperately trying to spread its way across my face as she continues to berate him.

“That’s called sexual harassment, buddy.”  Her hands fly to her hips as she continues glaring.  “Do you know that I could call the police and have you ticketed?  Or even arrested!”

Okay, I’m not exactly sure if that’s true but I’m just going to roll with it.

As if finally realizing that this teeny tiny chick is going to go completely bat shit crazy all over his dumb ass, Alex’s wide brown eyes shift helplessly to mine as Stacy pokes a slender finger at his massive, wall-like chest.

He sort of looks like he might want me to intervene on his behalf.  I almost laugh because that is
so
not
going to happen.  I’m viewing this whole thing as a
teachable moment
.  I only hope that Alex is teachable.  Although, in all honesty, the jury is still out on that one… because from what I’ve seen tonight regarding Alex, my guess is probably not.

“How would you like it if some chick you didn’t even know started groping you at a club or party?”  Her eyes flash with hostility.  It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she actually started foaming at the mouth.  My guess is that Stacy has been manhandled one too many times before.

Hopefully Alex isn’t stupid enough to answer that question.

“I’d be totally down with it.”  For the first time in five minutes, he actually smirks.

Stacy’s mouth drops open as her eyes flare wide.  A moment later, her hand shoots out.  I’m half afraid she’s going to bitch slap Alex right into next week when she grabs a girl walking past us and yanks her over.  The girl, wearing a pair of four inch super skinny heels, stumbles just a bit before recovering her balance.   I have to give her some major props for remaining upright on that one.  Not always easy to do in sky high skinny heels.

“Ally, this guy,” she waves her hand in Alex’s direction as if that term is debatable, “thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to grab a girl’s butt at a party.”

If the sudden frown is any indication, then Ally is none too pleased by this information either.  One of her hands instantly settles on her hip as her lip curls in disgust.  “Why do guys always think that’s okay to do?” Even though this is posed as a question, I’m thinking it’s more rhetorical in nature. “I am so damn sick and tired of that shit!”

Not saying a word, I merely shake my head before shrugging my shoulders.  Alex’s gaze shifts with even more unease between the two fuming girls who are all up in his face.

“Ahhh-”

He never gets a chance to finish that thought (I’m being overly generous with that assertion) before both Stacy and Ally steamroll right over him.  “It is definitely
not
okay!  You can’t just walk around touching women inappropriately!”

“Ahhh-” Alex’s mouth gapes open like a fish out of water.  You can actually see the moment he finally grasps the severity of his current predicament.

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