Read One Hot Fall Term (Yardley College Chronicles Book1) Online
Authors: Sharon Page
Tags: #Romance
Ryan calls while I’m packing. “Just wanted you to know I’m going crazy counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until I see you.”
I have to laugh. “That’s exactly what I was doing.”
“I wanted to let you know I feel confident about my mid-terms, Mia. Your help really pulled me through.”
We’ve spent a lot of time via email working on his subjects. I missed being able to tutor him face to face, but I loved working out problems with him. We mesh together well.
Softly, I say, “You did the same for me.”
We hang up so we can finish packing. Ryan is going to take buses to get home, starting tonight, because there is usually a bad storm on the travel day before Thanksgiving and I insisted snowstorms and motorcycles are a crappy combination.
I’m stuffing underwear in my knapsack when I suddenly stop.
We’re good for each other, Ryan and I. That has to mean this really is a forever thing.
***
Snow is swirling in the air and there’s a light dusting on the ground when I reach Milltown. Mom offered to meet me, but I figured I would just take a cab. I end up arriving at the bus station at the same time as a friend of Ryan’s from high school, and he gives me a lift home.
I knock on the door of my bungalow and the instant my mom opens the door, I run in and throw my arms around her. Our house may be small, and our landlord may be the slowest guy on the planet when it comes to fixing things, but the lights glowing in the window look homey, and the house smells of lasagna and cookies and fresh baked bread.
I’m home.
Mom gushes and hauls me inside. She has coffee ready and I desperately want a cup. But I want to get to Ryan’s house—
There’s another knock on the door. Mom smiles. “Ryan arrived home this afternoon and I invited him for dinner.”
My heart soars. “Thank you, Mom!”
I race to the door and fling it open. I grab Ryan’s hand and pull him in so fast I almost haul him off his feet. He lifts me off my feet and kisses me, but it’s a quick kiss and when he sets me on my feet, he looks at mom with a guilty expression. “Thank you for inviting me, Ms.O’Connell.” (Mom went back to her maiden name.)
Ryan holds out a small box with a bow on it. A gift for my mom.
She takes it and hugs him, beaming at him. “That’s so lovely of you, Ryan. It’s good to see you. And I suspected you and Mia would want to see each other right away.”
I go into the kitchen to take out the lasagna, and I pour my mom’s own balsamic dressing on the salad and toss it. Ryan comes in to help me, getting out plates and cutlery for setting the table
A minute later my mom comes into the kitchen. She’s holding Ryan’s gift. “Oh Ryan, this is too wonderful.”
It’s an angel made of bent metal and assorted wires welded together. It’s really lovely and unique. I gaze at Ryan. “Did you make this?”
“Yeah, this afternoon.”
I hug him, and he says softly by my ear, “I wanted to say thank you to your mom, but I picked an angel because you’re my angel, Mia.”
I have to blink away tears.
***
After dinner, Mom goes into the living room to watch television, and I quietly ask Ryan if he wants to go upstairs.
He looks actually shocked. “I don’t think your mom would like me going into your bedroom.”
That’s Ryan. Decent always. “Come on. It will be okay. We’ve been together a long time—”
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t feel right betraying her trust.” Then he adds softly, “I came over in the truck.”
“You want to make love in the truck? It will be freezing.”
“Not with the heat on. And I brought blankets.”
I know I have to compromise. “Okay.” I tell my mom that we’re going to drive to Main Street for Christmas shopping.
Ryan has the truck running, warming up, when I hurry outside with my winter coat, hat and gloves on. I use the running board to climb in—his truck is a king cab and is huge. He could only afford it because it’s pretty old. I recognize where we are going, even in the early darkness of a wintery evening. “We’re going to the lake, aren’t we? Where we…had our first time?”
He grins. “Special memories.”
The minute he stops the truck, I start kissing him. We fumble our way between the seats in the back seat of the king cab. I lie down with Ryan over top of me, and he pulls the blankets over us. The snow has stopped and moonlight spills in so I can see his face, caressed by silvery-blue night. Just like our very first time making love, in early September.
It seems like a long time ago. Strangely, for all I’ve been apart from Ryan for months, I feel closer to him now.
I hear the zip of his fly. His hands brush against me as he fumbles with his condom. I’m starting to feel warm now, so I push my sweatpants down. They’re convenient for love-making in the truck.
His mouth captures mine. I open my legs as much as I can with my sweatpants binding my ankles together, which is kind of sexy. We indulge in wet, open-mouthed kisses, then he’s inside me. Filling me. I sob in relief, joy, and lust. I desperately thrust up at him, then he takes over, all coiled, controlled strength. He takes it slow at first, but I want more. I want it wild. And I coax him to keep going until he’s pounding hard into me and I’m taking every thrust. The truck must weigh a half a ton, I’m sure, but we make it rock.
His fingers go down, and his hand slips between our bodies and his fingers stroke my clit. It’s like magic. His index finger plays with me until I coil up with tension. Then I slide my hand down and touch my clit too. Just a bit more gently. And suddenly, my climax explodes. It’s like being smacked with a wave of pleasure. I’m swirling in it, crying out, my hips moving wildly and uncontrollably.
He comes then too, jerking over top of me, and I stroke his hair, his neck, his gorgeous back.
We make love again and again, until its one a.m., and Ryan insists on taking me home so my mom won’t worry.
He drops me off at home, walks me to my door, and we share a long goodnight embrace.
“I love you, Mia,” is the last thing he says before he walks to his truck to go home.
I can’t believe I’ve found a guy who is sexy, a perfect gentleman, and deeply loving and romantic. My heart is filled to bursting. Filled with happiness. I float to my bedroom. Even my tiny room with peeling wallpaper and an uneven floor looks beautiful to me.
I never dreamed I could ever be so happy.
I pull off my outdoor sweatpants, and put on the ones I wear for bed, along with a fresh tank top. I fall onto my bed.
It’s almost the end of fall term, and I finally feel like I’m growing into the person I want to be. I feel like the luckiest girl alive because I have Ryan, and because I’ve really found love. Plus, I discovered I can come with Ryan. Everything is perfect.
What is the rest of my first year going to bring? And I know that eventually I’m going to have to be honest with Ryan. Next term, after Christmas, I’m going to have to find the courage to tell him about my past.
I just have to.
My phone buzzes and I look at it, wondering if it’s a last message from Ryan. But it’s a text from Jonathon.
Mia
, he writes.I know you don’t want to change your mind and Ryan’s a great guy. But I am not going to give up. I intend to sweep you off your feet.
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Thank you for reading
One Hot Fall Term
, the Book 1 in the Yardley College Chronicles series. I really hope you enjoyed the story. I’ve been told that reviews really help readers find books. If you did like this story, I would hugely appreciate it if you posted a review online.
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Look for Book 2 in the series,
One Hot Winter Break
, available now! See my website
www.SharonPage.com
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Here’s an excerpt from
One Hot Winter Break
, Book 2 of the Yardley College Chronicles:
Chapter One
When Ryan Taylor and I broke up in Winter Break, just before Christmas, I didn’t know what had gone wrong. I just knew it was over. And the only reason I had for why Ryan was letting me go—
forcing
me to go—was his belief I should do better.
We’ve been dating since we were high school juniors. Now we’re both nineteen. Ryan went to a military college on the west coast; went on a scholarship since he is as poor as me. His dad owns a garage in Milltown, where Ryan was born and I’ve lived for two years. Ryan’s dad drinks, so most of the time Ryan did the work in the garage, while his dad blew the income in bars.
I’m only going to Yardley College to study architecture because my stepfather agreed to pay for it. My mom and stepfather have been divorced for years—but he raised me since I was two. He’s the only father I’ve known. Mom couldn’t afford to help me—she’s a waitress in a diner and tips are based on the cost of the food, not the way she hustles her butt.
Ryan and I both desperately needed college but to get there, we had to go to opposite sides of the country.
We promised to make a long distance relationship work.
Through fall term, we succeeded. Even though we were apart for months, at Thanksgiving I felt closer to him than ever. But when we were together again at Winter Break, everything imploded.
***
It is ten days before Xmas, and Ryan and I are lying in my bed while my mom is out, entwined together to stay warm. My mom keeps the heat down in the bungalow to save on the bills, so we spend a lot of time in the winter wearing coats inside.
Ryan is under my sheets and worn quilt. His toes stick out of the end of my bed, which bothers me as I’m sure he is cold. He doesn’t seem to notice. Maybe because we’re both naked.
He kisses the top of my head, a Ryan-gesture I adore. “What do you want for Christmas, Mia?”
“This.” I snuggle close to him, and wrap my hand around his amazing cock that is already hard again. I’m supposed to be the one who can keep coming time after time and enjoy the multiple orgasm phenomena, but Ryan and I have been apart so much that he is now insatiable. Apparently guys can bank up their horniness, and it can all explode at once.
I give his rigid shaft a squeeze. I have small hands and can barely touch my fingers around him. “This is all I want,” I say, “being in bed with you.”
Ryan gazes at me under his long, dark lashes. His hair, buzzed almost to his scalp, is white-blond but his eyelashes are black. He laughs huskily. “I want to give you more than that.”
I hesitate. I know Ryan is struggling to afford school, even with the scholarship. “I don’t need anything else. You don’t have to get me anything.” When he came to visit me just before Thanksgiving, he showed me how to use the equipment in the architecture school’s wood and metal working shops, which save me from failing my major fall term project. I really don’t need anything else.
“I want to get you a gift.”
“Don’t, Ryan. You need your money for school.”
He frowns, his lashes flicking down over his sapphire blue eyes. He runs his hand over his white-blond stubble. On Ryan, the severe hair cut looks sexy. “I’m not that poor, Mia.”
“You—” I break off. I was about to argue and say that I know he is and I don’t care. That I don’t need stuff. But Ryan has a lot of pride.
He sits up in my bed, the sheets tumbling off him. The cool air washes over me and my heart hammers.
I’ve hurt him. Money is something he’s sensitive about.
I sit up too, my bare breasts jiggling. My nipples go hard from the cold. Goose bumps jump up all over my breasts. Shivering, I lean over and put my lips to his cock. He tastes of sex, of his come. Sticking out my tongue, I run it lavishly around the taut head. I strum along the crown, then open my mouth and suck his cock deep inside.
I want to make things up to him.
He groans, but he cups my chin and gently pushes me back, forcing me to release him. “I don’t want pity. You don’t have to do this to make me feel better.”
True, making him feel better was sort of why I was doing it. But I say, “I was doing it because I like sucking and licking you.”
Ryan gets out of the bed, which startles me. He pulls on his sweatshirt, covering his broad bare chest. “Is that why you sleep with me? You feel sorry for me. You think I’ve had it rough.”
“No, that’s definitely not why I sleep with you.”
But he’s a guy. Guys don’t listen. “I’m not good enough for you, Mia.”
I get up on my knees, my old mattress sinking under my weight. “That’s not true, Ryan.” I hate confrontation. I want to say I love him, but maybe that will make everything worse.
“You know about all the crap in my life and it’s made you feel sorry for me.” He runs his hand over his short hair again. His sapphire-blue eyes are filled with pain. “Why else would you be with me?”
“Maybe because I care about you?”
He doesn’t say anything. He picks up his white briefs from the floor, and yanks them up his muscular legs. Under his sweatshirt, his biceps flex and his forearms are hard as steel. He was always strong from football, mixed martial arts training, and work in the garage. But a term in military college has bulked up his pecs, his biceps, even tightened the muscles of his amazing butt. He’s sexy and beautiful.
My brain is slowly processing information. He’s putting on clothes. Does this mean he’s walking away? Out the door? What
does
this mean?