A Deal With The College Playboy

12. Negotiating The Hookup Contract

ELLIE

If there was ever a moment I could've been hit by a meteor and welcomed it, it was this one. I actually looked up at the sky and waited to see a huge rock hurtling towards me, hopefully to wipe me off the face of the planet.

Because Beck Ryder, the beautiful disaster himself, had just kissed me breathless in the middle of a goddamn track and followed it up with, "I want to have s*x with you."

I literally froze as soon as the words left his lips. My brain went blank, and my mouth opened but all that came out was, "Huh?" Like some dumbass cartoon character.

I took a stumbling step back, shaking my head as I said, "What the f**k did you just say?"

The bastard didn't even flinch. His jaw tightened, like he'd been bottling this up as he said, "You heard me."

"No, see that's the kind of line a guy drops in a shitty w*****d story, and I need you to confirm that you didn't actually just say what I think you said."

"I meant it," he said calmly. "I want to have s*x with you, Ellie."

"You're insane," I said as my voice sounded so strange and unfamiliar.

"I know, Buzzkill," he said as his eyes narrowed. "But I have my reasons, and I'd rather be honest with you than pretend otherwise."

"What reasons could you possibly have for saying that?" I asked.

"Last night when you stormed out after we kissed," he said calmly, "I couldn't stop thinking about it. I couldn't stop thinking about you. And it pissed me off because part of me thought maybe you just see me as some kind of man-w***e. Like you'll never take me seriously. And yeah, maybe I've been with a lot of girls, but you..."

He trailed off, dragging a hand down his face, and for the first time in his life, Beck Ryder actually looked unsure.

"Ellie, I can't f*****g shake you," he muttered. "So I need to figure out if this is me wanting you, or just me wanting s*x with you. But you have every right to say no. I just needed you to know."

My brain shut down again as I tried to think of what to say. He was standing right there, looking all sweaty and gorgeous and saying all the wrong things in exactly the right way, and all I could think about was how this was my chance.

Because let's be real, my virginity had been hanging over my head like a curse. I wanted it gone, and I wanted it to happen with someone who made my skin burn and my brain collapse. And Beck Ryder was standing there offering himself like some sort of twisted genie wish.

My common sense screamed at me to say no, and my pride screamed even louder. But my hormones grabbed the mic and yelled, "DO IT, YOU COWARD!"

So what did I say?

"Okay."

He took a step back and blinked confusedly, and then he said, "Wait, what?"

I nodded slowly, even though my voice cracked as I said, "Yeah. Okay. You want to do this? Then fine. Let's f*****g do it."

His mouth curved into a slow and dangerous grin that made my knees buckle, and suddenly he said, "Come with me."

Before I could rethink anything, he grabbed my hand and dragged me off the track. We walked across campus with several people staring, and my heart banging against my ribs like it wanted to burst out. I wondered if he was actually going to have s*x right now, and I was ready to kick him in the nuts if he tried that. My first time was not going to be in some empty classroom with him all sweaty and exhausted.

But then we made our way to his car, a sleek black BMW with the darkest tint I've ever seen. He opened the door and helped me in, and then he rounded the car and hopped in.

And suddenly the air felt way too heavy.

"Now we can talk in private," he said. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, pretending my voice wasn't shaking. "But first, we need to lay down some ground rules."

His eyebrows shot up. "Ground rules?"

"Yes, ground rules,"I said. "I'm not going to be one of your little groupies, Beck. This is purely physical, and I don't want any attachments. Got it?"

"Purely physical," he repeated, smirking at me. "So no feelings, no strings."

"Exactly."

"Fine," he said easily. "But then we need details. Like, how many times are we talking here?"

I stared at him with a raised eyebrow as I said, "You're actually negotiating this?"

"Well you started it," he shot back, leaning back in the seat and looking so smug that I wanted to punch him.

"Ugh!" I groaned as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Okay. Three times."

"Three?" he laughed. "Buzzkill, come on. That's rookie numbers."

"Fine, five," I said, glaring at him.

"Ten."

"Six."

"Eight," he countered. "Final offer."

I hesitated, then stuck out my hand and said, "Deal."

"Great," he grinned as he shook it, his hand warm around mine, and goddammit, I swear my whole body lit up. "I get to have s*x with you eight times. And I get to decide where and when."

"Fine," I said quickly, yanking my hand back. "Next rule. Outside the bedroom, we're not a thing. No PDA, no calling me your girlfriend, none of that bullshit."

He tilted his head slightly and said, "So you don't want me making out with you in front of Salma just to piss her off?"

My stomach flipped, but I forced a smirk and said, "Exactly. Keep your drama on your side of the fence, Ryder."

His grin widened, and he said, "Alright. What about in the bedroom?"

"What about it?" I shrugged. "You're the expert. You know what happens behind closed doors and what doesn't. So you can decide that."

"Trust me, you wouldn't want to give me that kind of power," he said as he leaned back with his arms crossed, watching me squirm. "So let's hear it. What's in, and what's out?"

I stared at him with my eyes narrowed and said, "You're really asking me to make a f*****g s*x contract with you in your car?"

"Better than finding out mid-action that you have some weird rule like no kissing or keep your socks on," he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and said, "Fine. In the bedroom... kissing is allowed. Obviously."

"Good start," he said, nodding like a satisfied teacher. I rolled my eyes, and tried so hard not to punch him.

"Clothes off is allowed," I said, avoiding his gaze as my cheeks burned. "Touching is allowed as well."

"What about oral?" he asked, and I just wanted to sink into the floor.

"We'll try it out and see," I said. "But if I don't like it, then it's off the table."

"Trust me, you'll like it," he said, winking at me.

"Grow up, Beck," I snapped, stabbing a finger at him. "As I was saying, condoms are non-negotiable every single time. I don't care if you're allergic to latex or whatever bullshit excuse guys use, you're wrapping it up or it's not happening."

"That's fair," he said, his grin softening. "Agreed."

"Also," I said, narrowing my eyes, "no weird porn-star s**t. Like choking or slapping or..."

"Hold on," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "You're the one making this sound like I've got a torture chamber in my closet. Relax. I'm not going to pull out handcuffs and a ball gag unless you ask me to."

My jaw dropped, and I buried my face in my hands as I said, "Oh my f*****g god."

"What?" he said, laughing at me. "You really think I don't own handcuffs?"

"Jesus Christ!" I groaned. "Please stop."

"Alright," he said, although his voice was still dripping with amusement. "So choking and slapping are off the table. Anything else?"

I peeked through my fingers, then I thought for a second and said, "No recording me, and no pictures. And no telling your dickhead friends what we're up to. This stays between us."

His expression turned serious for once, and he said, "I'd never do that to you, Buzzkill. I'm not an asshole."

I blinked at him for a second, completely thrown off by how genuine he sounded. But before I could process it, he leaned closer, his eyes glinting as he said, "Okay, my turn. Things that are in: me going down on you. Definitely in."

My stomach flipped so hard I thought I might throw up. "Beck, you don't just say s**t like that."

"Why not?" he asked, shrugging. "We're negotiating. It's on the table."

I swallowed nervously, squeezing my thighs together as the image of Beck going down on me made me want to squeal. "Fine. It's on the table."

"Good," he said, grinning like he'd just won a game. "Also, I like it messy. So don't expect me to keep my hands to myself."

"Messy?" I said confusedly. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"It means you're not going to walk out of my bed with perfect hair and your lip gloss still looking intact," he said smoothly. "I'll ruin you a little bit, but in the best way."

My whole body clenched, heat crawling down my neck. "You're such a cocky prick."

"Maybe," he said, looking unbothered. "But I'm also right."

I crossed my arms and said, "Fine. Just remember that no weird s**t is allowed. If you try anything like spitting in my mouth, I will literally knee you in the balls."

He burst out laughing, and then he said, "Duly noted. No spit."

"Or feet," I added. "Don't even think about it."

"Buzzkill, relax," he said, still laughing. "Trust me. I'm not into feet."

"Good," I said firmly.

For a moment, we just sat there, the air between us feeling heavy and charged with so much tension. I was trying so damn hard to keep it casual and keep control on the situation, but the truth was that my body was already buzzing like it knew what was coming.

Beck leaned forward, his voice dropping as he said, "So to recap, you allow kissing, touching, oral, condoms, and a little bit messy, but no spit, no feet, and no porn-star violence. Is that right?"

I swallowed hard and said, "Yeah. That sounds about right."

He smirked again and said, "Then we're good to go."

We sat there for a few seconds in silence, staring at each other without knowing what to say. My hands were clenched in my lap, and my brain was spinning in all directions. But underneath all that panic was this dangerous buzz of excitement, and I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"Let's start tonight," Beck said finally.

"What?"

"We do this tonight," he repeated. "So you won't have a chance to back out."

"Okay," I said quietly. "Tonight it is."

He leaned back slowly, looking satisfied like he'd just won the lottery. "I guess I'll see you this evening, Buzzkill," he said. "I can't wait."

By the time I got out of the car, my legs felt like jelly. I walked across the lot slowly, clutching my bag as my mind kept replaying every word of that insane conversation.

And somewhere deep down, beneath all the panic, I felt giddy. Terrified, but giddy. Like I was standing on the edge of a cliff and getting ready to jump, knowing the fall might break me. But god, the freefall was going to feel incredible.

In less than six hours, I was finally going to lose my virginity.

And I would be one step closer to dying in peace.