Curveball(5)

Luca taps me on the shoulder, but I ignore him, my eyes still fixed on the smoking-hot teacher in front of me. Luca’s girlfriend, Izzie, is hanging on his arm and kissing his neck, the two of them making obnoxious noises next to me. After a flask of bourbon on the car ride over and three beers, Izzie might look like a drunk, but she’s still an insanely beautiful mess with her blonde curls tangled and framing her Kate Hudsonesque face.

Luca lucked out when Izzie finally gave him the time of day after years of not speaking to him.

“Why don’t you stop being a pussy and go talk to her?” Luca screams into my ear so that I can hear him over the music.

He’s referring to the sexy teacher. I had to wait thirty minutes for her shift to change and for her fine ass to get back up onto the bar.

When it comes to fantasies, I have always wanted to hook up with a teacher, but I never had one hot or young enough to pursue.

But, now, I’m staring up at a gorgeous woman,with silky black hair cropped below her chin, long lashes that accentuate her bright blue eyes, and nice full lips that part expectantly as I stand beneath her, admiring her beauty.

“Go!” Izzie yells as she pushes me. With my athletic build and height, she barely nudges me.

Luca had been in love with Izzie since they were kids. We have a bro code that I only threatened to break because I was trying to protect my friend. Part of me also wanted to hang on to my wingman a little bit longer because being single and having no one to pick up women with sucks. Everything with us has always been a competition—even women. And, now, I’m stuck with resorting to some of our newer brothers and, on rare occasions, even the repulsive ones, like Dirty Dan.

“I got this,” I tell Izzie and Luca, confident. “She’s coming home with me. That much, I can guarantee.”

The teacher might be eye-fucking me hard, but I know the club pays these girls to dance and flirt with customers. Club Rave is not much different from a strip club. Except these dancers keep their clothes on and don’t offer hand jobs with the lap dances in the private rooms.

For the past three months, I’ve had to watch Luca and Izzie together. Add that to the fact that my other friend and fraternity brother, Hunter Sterling, is dating Silvia Barker, Izzie’s best friend and roommate, and my life has been filled with weekends on the couch, watching them fall in love and make googly eyes.

I needed this night out more than the rest of my brothers. I was pledge master this year for our new recruits—left with the task of turning new fraternity pledges into men. The pledge master is the brother responsible for mind-fucking the pledges, the one who pushes them to the brink to see if they have what it takes to join the brotherhood.

Now that we’re back from winter break and the pledges are, to some extent, our equals, I thought things would be different. Our entire dynamic had shifted in the house the day Izzie ran into Luca in the Quad. She’d literally knocked him on his ass and fallen on top of him, and things have only gotten more serious since. Both Hunter and Luca have turned into pussy-whipped bitches. Getting them to agree to come to Club Rave tonight was like pulling teeth. But, as our president, Luca is down with whatever I think is in the best interest of promoting brotherly love.

I look over my shoulder at Izzie, who is still hanging on Luca and now sucking on his ear. Silvia and Hunter are in the same lip-lock they’ve been in for the last ten minutes. This is my life now. I never thought I would be the fifth wheel. Granted, I never expected Luca, of all people, to settle down. He shocked me more than Hunter did. For a football player, Hunter has always had a soft side that doesn’t match his meaty exterior. But Luca turned into a mush ball once he got together with Izzie.

Some days, I can hardly stomach the sight of the four of them together, sprawled out on the couches in our fraternity house and whispering shit in each other’s ears. Instead of the place looking like a scene from Animal House, it’s like a bunch of pussies have moved in and swapped our Jack Daniel’s for wine coolers. The house is too feminine, and the guys now look to me since Luca and Hunter have misplaced their balls. Their girlfriends probably have them hidden inside their purses.

I lay my palms flat on the bar in front of the teacher, and she bends down to meet my gaze.

What’s your name? I mouth.

She leans into my ear. Her breath sends a chill through me. “Teach. What’s yours?”

“Mark, but you can call me God.”

She chuckles. “And why is that?”

“Because that’s the name you’ll be screaming later.”

“I doubt that,” she counters, toying with me.

I smirk at her comment. “I don’t. How about you let me buy you a drink, Teach?”

“My shift is over in twenty. Meet me at the bar on the back deck.”

Works every time.



After three drinks and an hour of Teach rubbing her pussy on my leg, I had a hard-on that would not quit. I wanted to take her back to my house, but she insisted we go to her place. That worked for me since I lived in a fraternity house with sixty dudes. Not exactly a classy place to take a woman.

She peels her ass from the leather bucket seat of my Mustang. Struggling and stumbling in five-inch heels, she almost falls onto the sidewalk. Trying to dance and drink at the same time wasn’t one of her strong suits. Teach spilled most of her martini on the floor as she moved her hips. I doubt she’s even drunk, as it must be stuck to the bottoms of her shoes.