CHAPTER ONE

Gender Studies 426

So, this is what ‘adulting’ is like, Nicole Xandu thought as she watched a paper grenade launched from high to low in the stadium seating in her first college freshman course. As it landed with a bounce, off a possible future Miss President, the initial victim shot back her own prepared ammo at the culprit above. The resemblance to her fourth-grade Mathleete Camp was uncanny. She smothered the growing smile at the silly acts between the other students as she recognized the lost years of having such fun when she became recognized as a mathematical prodigy. She sat poised three rows up from the ground floor of the auditorium, ready for this new phase of her life in college. Although some things would never change, her mathematical rationale kicked in and confirmed her perfect alignment with the lecture area below and just 65 degrees from the center to be able to see over 70% of the students in the fully packed room. Still, with her mechanical pencil ready, which she clicked once more to make sure life was perfect, her notepad resting open on the pull-out leaf, she attempted to convey anything related to the ultimate nerd she’d been labeled up from grade school.

She enjoyed the plush red velvet chair cover, liking the almost sweet complement to her beige slacks, white blouse, and new high-top sneakers. She tried not to imagine the darker stain lightened her already red hair and paler complexion, probably making her freckles stand out. Ignoring that awful visual, she ran a hand through her short curls and glanced longingly at her book bag near her ankle. There was an 80:20 chance, if she pulled out one of her study guides from one of her math tourney challenges, she might not be so bored. But then she wouldn’t be interacting as she promised herself. Not that she’d spoken to anyone yet. Mostly gun-shy, at least for her first day, she wanted to avoid the label of a super nerd in the first hour. Still, she wished the instructor for this class assigned a damn book. How in the world could she study ahead? The syllabus simply said TBA and ‘to be announced’ sounded lazy.

Her brown eyes swept the room and found a beautiful light-haired Spanish-looking woman, her darker eyebrows and soft cheekbones captivating. She sat in the front row to the far right. Nicci bit her pink bottom lip as she tried to look sideways. The woman was so pretty. She was drawing something on a large art pad laid across her lap, fully focused on it. Nicci relaxed a little and turned to enjoy her silent lascivious thoughts, unconsciously biting on her pencil as she admired the woman’s thick long hair casually clipped upward in a messy bun. The sinuous curve of the arched neck exposed light brown, smooth skin. Nicci let her eyes roam over the absent twirl of a lock of hair with the free hand down to the fashionable blouse holding back ample breasts beneath the taut material. Yep, she was fucking hot. Nicci wondered if the temperature in the room was getting hotter. The woman’s confident movement of her drawing hand as it made long strokes on the paper seemed weightless. Nicci shivered as she wondered what that hand and fingers might feel like sliding up her over her chest, nails lightly scratching her nipples, fingers moving to cup the back of her head while she imagined green eyes looking into her own. That mouth pressed into hers as she licked those lips.

Nicci suddenly realized the woman was looking right at her. A small half-smile graced the stranger’s lips. An instant blush rose into Nicci’s cheeks uncontrollably. No surprise this time, much less the million times before. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her water bottle, casually looking away.

She berated herself mentally. Perhaps she should make it a rule not to fantasize about women in her class? That made her smile. Fat chance. She’d been a silent purveyor of beautiful women on TV for years. At least now that she was in college, she could temper her sentence to include ‘in her class’ instead of just good old-fashioned ‘the untouchable famous’. She counted Fibonacci number sequences to calm her rapid heartbeat. She hated not knowing how to act or when to act. If she were braver, she might have winked at that woman. But she wasn’t confident enough, yet. Fibonacci it is. Math was much safer. She glanced once more at the woman and found those eyes still watching her. A wider grin spread over those luscious lips. Then the woman winked.

Nicci choked on the water she’d been drawing into her mouth.

***

Rae Bowan appreciated clean lines. She moved the 8mm black ink pen over the off-white drawing pad and managed just the right thickness as she expanded the fashion outfit on the model. Her sketch was not very exciting, but she rarely produced garbage these days. Her hand was steady, and her lines the perfect thickness. Not that she recognized that fluidity very much anymore. She’d been drawing since her formative years, and she’d grown up with a pen and pad in hand. At twenty-three, she considered her ability advanced and rarely admired the artistry. She mostly drew for fun. A few times she drew some fashion outfits on willowy models for the clothing boutique near her apartment. The extra cash was nice. And when she sold her sketches, she expected zero flaws. Thankfully, the boutique owner liked her creativity. But it was thoughtless work. Unfortunately, today she was drawing fashion outfits to take back to the boutique. She examined the model figure on the page and wished she could draw more realistic breasts or rounder hips and ass. These sketches looked anorexic. She took a few minutes to draw a scarf around the too skinny and elongated neck. She’d slept with a few models that looked willowy. They were hot-looking but cared too much to rough house in bed. Sometimes she liked things a little rough. And that led her to seek men. They were less fragile. But once in a while, they could be complete dicks. She grimaced at the thought of her current relationship. Finton Myers was beginning to weigh her down.

She felt someone staring at her. She turned to look back and found a pretty redheaded woman a few rows away, giving her the once over. Rae noticed the woman had a far-away gaze as she stared at Rae’s drawing hand. Rae felt her lips twitch as she continued to be watched. She lifted her hand, paused, and waited.

The unfocused dreamy gaze suddenly snapped into focus and Rae locked eyes with a desire-filled younger woman. A very visible blush rose upward from the cute white blouse, reaching the red hairline. She was stunning and sweet to look at. Rae wondered how sensitive those adorable ears would be if she nibbled on one. She grinned at her fan and the redhead looked away casually as she sipped her water bottle.

Rae caught the woman’s furtive glance a moment later and gave her a little wink to let her know she’d been caught. She enjoyed the fun flirtation. It was so different from…

“Fucking parking is just shit around this ‘tarded school,” the very crux of her internal hate debate dropped into the seat next to her with all his jock bulk. Finton Myers slumped down sloppily and kicked her book bag in the process.

Rae blinked at him, wondering why he was suddenly here, in her classroom. They didn’t have any plans. He didn’t attend this school. And he reeked of sweat. “Why are you here, Finton?” She frowned.

“Rae-Rae,” his overly sweet-voiced sounded like a child. “They let me out of practice early and I thought we might sneak out of this shit hole and grab lunch.”

“But what are you doing in here? It’s a women’s gender study class. Look around. No guys.” Rae was getting irritated. And by grabbing lunch she was sure he meant for her to pay. So far, the only thing he’d actually paid for was the movie tickets she handed her card to him to purchase.

He swiveled around to his left, then behind him. Finton shrugged. “There’s a dude.” He pointed to a person a few rows up.

Rae looked up and met the ice blue-eyed regard of a tall, broad-shouldered Native American woman, who just happened to be dressed in masculine clothing. The woman’s dark brown skin and androgynous features reminded Rae of the amazon warriors from mythology. Woah. Her stomach flipped at a visceral reaction to the strength and sleek-lined face. The woman looked…powerful. Rae felt her pussy clench and her nipples tighten with arousal.

“Not a dude, you jackass,” she whispered harshly.

Finton looked back and then laughed. “Well, fuck. Probably fucks like a dude, though.”

Rae glowered at him. His completely non-filtered mouth was his undoing. “You reek. Didn’t you shower after practice?”

“I was going to shower at your apartment. If you’d give me a fucking key, I wouldn’t have to ask.” He answered casually.

Rae held back the eye roll with the strongest restraint. She glanced back to the Native woman and winced as she found eyebrows drawn and lips pressed together. The angry and if she was reading her correctly, hurt eyes glared back. She mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

The Native woman shrugged. She turned her gaze from Rae and Finton with a clear detachment of the insult. Rae felt the cutting edge of finality in the simple and effective movement.

Biting her lip, she looked back at Finton. She was going to kill him. She just hoped the lowering of the woman’s shoulders meant her apology reduced the damage. Turning back to make him apologize, she found Dr. Trudeau, her semester-long instructor, standing less than five feet away watching the exchange and the interaction with a lowered brow. Rae hadn’t seen or heard her enter from a side door. The impressive-looking woman regarded Rae with a glint of some recognition, which made Rae swallow uncomfortably. It was possibly the worst opportunity to sit in a judgment of this woman within 5 minutes of the course and she could not control a thing. Yep, she was going to kill Finton Myers, or at least gag him to reduce the damage to his mouth. She turned toward him and looked at his face, barely seeing the handsome creature she’d been attracted to originally. She gave a sideways glance upward to the blue-eyed seductress and licked her lips. Damn.