His blond hair is so light it looks bleached. But it’s natural, his eyelashes and eyebrows are the same color. A dimple on his right cheek creases his sun-kissed skin. He’s beautiful, even though I know that’s not the right word to describe a man. Handsome doesn’t even cover it.
Tiny bumps run down my arms and legs, a strange effect I wasn’t expecting. Heat courses over my body in waves. He stares at me with so much intensity my cheeks flush. My nipples are like hardened peaks poking right at him and saying hello.
My body wants him.
Craves him, even.
He notices his effect on me because popular guys like him never skip a beat. He looks like a player who goes through women faster than he changes his socks. He carries himself like he owns the world. By the looks of him, he’s probably rich. Even in sporty clothes, he appears polished and stinks of entitlement and privilege.
Now aware of my body and how it reacts to him, I need an escape.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” His voice is so smooth and sexy that it sends a shiver down my arms. He extends his hand for me to shake. “I’m Trent.”
His fingers close around mine, making my hand seem tiny in comparison. He’s well over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, and perfectly toned. In a pair of mesh shorts that hang low from his narrow waist and a fitted tee, which shows off his thick biceps, Trent is a walking wet dream.
He gives me a curious look. “And you are?” Trent releases his grip on my hand. “Have we met before? You don’t look familiar… and I know almost everyone on campus.”
He has the body of an athlete. My ex played football in high school, but even in his prime, he never looked like Trent, whose legs are solid muscle, sculpted to perfection. I’m staring too hard, to the point Trent notices and smiles. More like smirks. Because isn’t that what guys who look like him do? They’re all wicked smirks and killer looks.
“No, I’m new. Just transferred.” I hold out my hand for him to shake, this time less nervous than before. “I’m Jemma.”
Trent smiles so wide it reaches his eyes. His fingers brush against mine, creating a shock of electricity that skates along my skin. I bet every girl with a pulse has this reaction to him. Even my stupid body is a traitor, and I’m not the type to lose my shit over a guy I just met. But I want to know more about Trent.
“You have the same name as the mom from Sons of Anarchy,” he says, which I have heard dozens of times.
“Yeah, except my name starts with a J instead of a G.”
“Jemma with a J,” he says. “I won’t forget it.”
“Anyway,” I say. “I need a favor, or I’ll fail the last part of my assignment.” Biting my lip, I struggle to find the words. “I… um…”
He wiggles his eyebrows, a playful smile forming. “What could you possibly want from me?”
Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I look away from him. “A kiss.”
He laughs, though it’s not at my expense. “Let me guess. You’re in the middle of the Kappa Delta scavenger hunt.”
“How did you know?”
“Every guy on campus knows about it.”
“I have to kiss a hot jock.”
He smirks. “You’ve found me.”
“So?” I rock back and forth to steady my nerves. “Will you kiss me?”
“What do I get in return?”
“A kiss from me. Isn’t that enough?”
“It’s a start,” he says in a sexy tone. “We should hang out. I’m going to the Delta Sig beach party on Saturday night. You should come with me.”
I blush ten shades of pink from my cheeks to my neck, distracted by his handsome face. He wants to see me again.
I blurt out, “How about a rain check? I have sorority duties this weekend.”
Trent seems disappointed with my response but recovers quickly. “Sure. Rain check. But if you change your mind, come by the Delta Sig house around eleven.”
