She didn’t call yesterday once we had returned home, and she didn’t come over last night. This party is something of an obligation to Amy that I feel like I can’t get out of. I want nothing more than to see Rowan and make amends for all the awful things I said to her last week. And it is with Rowan consuming my every thought that I venture out on my date with Amy.

The party is at a frat house just off campus. I hate fraternities. Amy, however, lives for this shit. She is in a sorority, of course, and this is their brother house, whatever the hell that means. As we enter the house, I can’t help but think this is going to be a very long night. I wonder what Rowan is doing tonight. She is no doubt out with Sara somewhere. And with that unwelcome thought, jealousy hits like a sledgehammer to my brain as I imagine her hanging out with her classmates—specifically the ones with penises.

I follow Amy around the loud obnoxious crowd, hating every second of our date and wanting to escape. And when I catch sight of Sara standing by some freshman with a glass of beer in her hand, I’m caught completely off guard. What the hell is she doing here? She looks drunk but seems to be behaving herself. If she is here, though, where the hell is Rowan? I march over to Sara, take the beer from her hand, and ask what she is doing at a college party. To my surprise, she says she and Rowan had come together. Then like all good sisters do, she blows me off and starts flirting like a pro.

However, at hearing Rowan’s name, I’m suddenly her unwelcome new best friend. “You said Rowan came. So where the hell is she?” I’m fighting to keep the desperation from my voice.

“Jesus, Logan. What the hell do you care? She went upstairs with some very hot hottie. Leave her alone.”

My jaw drops. What the hell had she just said? “Gone upstairs with?” That meant fucking around with or, worse yet, fucking. I climb the stairs two at a time ready to lose it. I start checking rooms, dreading what I will find with each turn of a knob … and then I hit the jackpot.

As I stumble into the dimly lit room, I can see two figures in an obvious state of sexual play. I turn on the lights afraid of who I’ll see and am frozen in a state of shock and fury. Rowan is lying on the bed with a man nearly on top of her. Her shirt is off, and his mouth is on one of her small perfect breasts. Her head is back in an obvious state of ecstasy.

It takes her a moment to realize they are not alone, and when our eyes meet, she doesn’t look away. Her eyes, usually so big and bright, have the laziness of alcohol. She is looking at me with no more shame than if she were fully dressed having tea with the queen of England. I want to scream. Instead, I storm over to the bed and grab the man by the collar of his shirt, yanking him from the bed. She lies there propped up on her elbows, watching with an almost amused look on her face. I order her to get up in a quiet, furious tone, and she doesn’t budge. The man is getting up off the floor, and for the first time, I realize who her counterpart is. He’s a sophomore by the name of Benjamin Aaronson. I know him. Women apparently think he’s hot, and I hate that his hands and his mouth were on her skin. He has a look of fury in his eyes until he sees it’s me that has interrupted his little play time. He immediately starts apologizing to me but has no idea why he’s sorry.

“Get the fuck out!” He obeys, quickly slinking away.

Rowan is still propped on the bed seductively watching me. I’ve never seen her breasts and can’t help but take them in. They are small like I knew they would be but perfectly shaped and round with beautiful, tight, pink nipples that are glistening from another man’s mouth. She watches me staring at her, and when my eyes make their way back up to hers, she smirks.

I order her to get dressed. She is obstinate. “Why should I?”

As I pick up her shirt and throw it at her, I can’t help but bite back. “Because little girls don’t get to play big girl games.” Drunk as she is, that has struck a chord, and she has to fight back the hurt. It only takes as long as getting her shirt back on until the drunken obstinacy returns, and with that, the calm seductiveness is starting to eat at me. “We’re leaving … now.” She knows it isn’t a question, and she decides to let that one go without argument. She follows me back downstairs where we find Sara and Amy.

I tell Amy we are leaving, and naturally, she objects. “We just got here, Logan. Why do we have to leave so soon?”

“Why the hell do you think, Amy? In case you hadn’t noticed, Sara and Rowan are drunk as hell, and Rowan was about ready to make some very bad choices upstairs with Benjamin Aaronson.”

“Benjamin Aaronson? Why the hell would he want anything to do with Rowan? He could have any woman here he wants.” She is laughing, and as angry as I am at Rowan, I want to kill Amy for insulting her.

As I start to snap at Amy to shut up, Sara, good friend that she is, comes to Rowan’s rescue. “You know, Amy, some men appreciate a woman who doesn’t throw herself out there like you do. Bleached hair and huge tits aren’t the most important thing to everyone.” This night can’t get any worse.

“I said we’re leaving.” After more argument from Sara and Amy, I finally manage to get all three outside to my car.

I head toward my parents’ house to drop Sara off. My blood is boiling, and I keep looking in the rear view mirror just to catch Rowan coolly looking right back at me. She is being coy and enjoying her drunken game far too much. I will have to punish her for that, but first, I have to get Sara home and ditch Amy. As we pull up outside my parents’, to my surprise, both Sara and Rowan start to get out.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, Rowan?” I climb from the car, trying desperately to keep my intimate familiarity of her from touching my eyes as I speak with gritted teeth to her. I want to be away from Sara and Amy to yell at her, scream at her. My anger at her and my ridiculous jealously have me crumbling. I’m not regarding her as a man who knows her casually but as a man obsessed with her, a scorned lover, a jilted boyfriend! I’m acting like a pathetic idiot, and it’s a losing battle to disguise the inappropriate fury in my voice.

“She’s spending the night with me, Logan.”

“The fuck she is. Get in the car, Rowan.”

And while my fury and jealousy are right below the surface of my expression, she watches me, still with her cool and calm glare. Eventually, she obliges, climbing back into my Jeep as Sara continues to argue. I finally grab Sara by the wrist and pull her up to the door. The lights are out and the house quiet, and once I start threatening to wake up mom and dad, she quiets right down. I then return to my car and head toward Amy’s. She lives on the other side of town, and I can feel Rowan’s eyes on me in the rear view mirror the entire ride over. Every time I glance up, I see her looking back through long seductive lashes. The more I see those cool eyes looking at me, the more furious I get and the more aroused. I want to fuck every last bit of Benjamin Aaronson out of her mind and make her beg for her release.

When Amy realizes that I am heading for her house, she becomes furious. “Why are you taking me home, Logan? You promised we would spend the night alone. You can’t be ditching me because the little whore back there decided to get herself fucked.”

“Watch it Amy. I’m not going to argue with you tonight.”

“Then tell me why? You’re going to drop little Miss Trailer Trash off at her shitty ass trailer and then go home by yourself? That doesn’t make any fucking sense, Logan. You either want to be with me or not.”

My jaw is clenched to the point of pain as I struggle to maintain control. To my horror, she continues. “You never let me spend the night anymore, we hardly ever go out, I can’t even remember the last time you fucked me.”

At hearing the last part of this little charade, my eyes snap up to see Rowan smirking. She’s enjoying this far too much, and it’s driving me crazy. Amy finally resorts to sulking when she doesn’t get her answers, and we drive on in silence. After dropping Amy off and arguing with her for a few more minutes, Rowan and I are finally alone. She crawls over the console and into the front seat. She lounges against the passenger door while she continues to watch me.

“Your girlfriend’s a real bitch, Logan. You know that?” She’ll get no argument out of me on that one, and I ignore her. But she’s incessant in her drunken state. “Are you taking me to my house, Logan?”

“You know I’m not.”

“Then you’re taking me back to your place, Logan?”

“You know I am.”

“Why didn’t you let me stay with Sara, Logan?”

“Shut up.”

“Why did you drop Amy off, Logan?”

“Shut up.”

“How much do you want to fuck me right now, Logan?”

I pull over, throw my car into park, and turn to her, leaning forward. “I will never fuck you, Rowan.”

She also leans in, meeting me at the center console, and replies. “But you want to, don’t you, Logan?”

I do want to, so much that my cock is stiff as hell and begging to impale her. Every sultry seductive utterance of my name from her lips has me wanting her more. She’s toying with me in her drunken confidence. Without moving her head, she shifts her eyes down to my crotch and back up to meet my eyes. She then reaches over and cups my crotch in her hand, gasping as she realizes just to what extent I want to fuck her. She smirks again. I grab her hand and shove it back to her, right myself, throw my car into drive, and take off. She again leans back into the door, and we drive in silence the rest of the way to my place. I’m angry as hell, horny as fuck, and I intend to make her suffer for her little game.