Fuck Valentine's Day Read online

  WARNING: This book contains handcuffs, hair pulling, perverted Valentine's cards, and all other sorts of naughty. This book is NOT intended for anyone who dislikes hot sex scenes, bad boys, or nerds with kinky sides. Read at your own risk.

  Table of Contents

  Warning

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 - Good Cop, Bad Cop

  Chapter 2 - What the Hell is This?

  Chapter 3 - Girl Meets Stalker … I Mean, Boy

  Chapter 4 - A Random Act of Fellatio

  Chapter 5 - Random Sexual Acts Part Two or Andi Figures Out What She Wants – Sort Of

  Chapter 6 - The Stalker's – I mean, Secret Admirer's – Identity Revealed (Was it that obvious all along, or am I dense?)

  Chapter 7 - Preston Wants Me to WHAT?!

  Chapter 8 - I Fucking Hate Candy Hearts

  Hell Inc. Sample Chapter

  Broken Pasts Sample Chapter

  Tasting Never Sample Chapter

  More Books By

  About the Author

  C.M. Stunich

  Sarian Royal

  Fuck Valentine's Day

  Copyright © C.M. Stunich 2013

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 1863 Pioneer Pkwy. E Ste. 203, Springfield, OR 97477-3907.

  www.sarianroyal.com

  ISBN-10: 1938623479(eBook)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-938623-47-9(eBook)

  Edited by Brandy Little of "Little Bee's Editing Services"

  Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal

  Optimus Princeps font © Manfred Klein

  Conrad Veidt font © Bumbayo Font Fabrik

  !Sketchy Times Font © !Exclamachine

  Jenna Sue Font © jennasuedesignco

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  to those of you who were brave enough to pick up a

  book with handcuffs on the front cover.

  I heart the fuck out of you.

  “I'm not going to touch your dick just because you gave me a box of chocolates.” I handed the heart shaped box back to Quinn and tried to step around him. When he put out his arm to stop me, I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. “It's not even Valentine's Day yet,” I told him, totally confused as to why a guy who'd never even spoken to me before was now suddenly interested in providing me with presents.

  “No dick touching necessary,” he told me as he handed the chocolates back and smiled. “In fact,” he continued as he stepped forward and brushed a bit of my hair away from my face. “You don't have to do any touching at all.” He paused, grinning wickedly, like a porn star or an underwear model or something. It was dirty, practiced, and totally fucking sexy. “Unless you want to.” And then Quinn turned and disappeared down the hallway giving me a long, uninterrupted view of his ass.

  Wow.

  The campus Casanova was hitting on me.

  The question now, of course, was why. Why, after all this time, was he suddenly interested? Was it because Valentine's Day was right around the corner and he didn't have a date? Nah. I shook my head and clutched the box of chocolates to my chest. Guys like Quinn didn't give a shit about Valentine's Day. Besides, there were a hundred girls that would throw themselves at his feet if he even bothered to toss a glance their way.

  With a sigh, I continued down the hallway, convinced that men were a different species altogether, one that I would never understand. I was so busy thinking about Quinn and his sharp, blue eyes that I ended up running into a big, broad, delicious chest. The candy flew out of my hands, suspended in the air like a cluster of chocolate rain drops and fell to the floor at my feet.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled as I knelt down and started to scoop them up. I didn't want to admit it, but I was kind of sad about my Quinn candy. It was my only real hope of ever nibbling on anything that came from a boy like him … Quinn Prentis. Sigh. Waaaaay out of my league, box of chocolate or no.

  “No, it was my fault,” said a soft-spoken voice from above me. I glanced up, and up, and up. It was Preston Ellis, the nerdy guy from my calculus class. He was dressed in a hunter green sweater over a white button up with a burgundy tie underneath. He had pretty eyes, but they were hidden behind a pair of thick, black glasses. His face was strong, masculine, all hard lines and edges. Drool worthy. “Please, accept my apologies,” he whispered as he knelt down and used his notebook to shovel the rest of the chocolates into the box top. “I'll have to give you some later.” He looked over the top of his glasses at me, brown eyes crinkling slightly around the edges as he smiled. I was assuming he meant chocolates, but if he wanted to give me something else later … I shook my head to clear it.

  “No, um, that's alright, but thanks.” I am way too horny for a virgin. Or maybe because I am a virgin? God, I need to get laid. We stood up in unison and paused awkwardly next to one another.

  “Sorry,” he said again as a group of giggling girls burst into the hallway and split around us like a wave. “See you around.” Preston ducked away to my left, head down, books tucked under his arm and suddenly, I felt this sharp pinch on my ass. I spun around, but there were so many blonde haired, blue-eyed volleyball players that I was having a hard time seeing who might have done it.

  Oddly enough, it never struck me that it might've been Preston Ellis.

  I trudged to my calc class, rubbing my ass and contemplating all the reasons that Quinn Prentis might have decided to give me a box of chocolates. We had a ton of classes together, but that didn't mean he knew me. Hell, I didn't even think he knew of me. I was sort of forgettable sometimes. I had legs for days sure (modesty – not one of my traits), but my hair was long and brown and boring. My eyes were moderately sized and my lips were flat.

  “Maybe he thinks I'm an easy lay?” I said and unfortunately, the words were not confined to the depths of my thick skull. That's right, I said them out loud. I flushed a nice shade of pink, something that would look real nice on a Valentine's Day card, and slipped into the nearest seat before anyone could look up and see what idiot was blathering their ridiculous thoughts for all the world to hear.

  I glanced around surreptitiously, trying to catch sight of either Quinn or Preston. A little eye candy never hurt anyone after all. Besides, if Quinn really was interested in me, wouldn't he be looking for me, too? Then I found him and realized how stupid I was being. My rational mind jumped in there with a nice, little quip. This is why we turned him down, Princess. I told her to fuck off as I watched Quinn hit on a pair of coeds in the back row.

  “Jackass,” I mumbled and nearly exploded out of my skin when a warm hand brushed against my arm. I glanced up and found Preston standing above me with a stack of papers in his left hand. He was staring down at me with this little smirk on his face that seemed at odds with the sweater and the dorky glasses.

  “It's kind of big,” he told me as his fingers flitted across my arm and gave me goose bumps. “Do you think you can handle it?” I stared at the hottest geek the world had ever seen and tried not to gawp. And failed. You are practically drooling, Andi, shut your damn mouth. It wasn't until a bit of saliva hit me in the tits that I managed to get a hold of myself.

  “Huh?” I asked, convinced that I was dreaming and that I was only seconds away from seeing Preston whip out his cock and show me the meaning of the word sore. I mean, the man had massively hu
ge hands with long, sexy fingers and his feet were at least twice the size of mine. I wasn't claiming to be an expert on men or anything (virgin, remember?), but I did watch a lot of porn and there is definitely a correlation between hands, feet, and cocks.

  “The stack,” he said as he handed me a sheet of formulas. “It's really heavy. Can you handle it?”

  “Oh.” I took the papers from him and tried not to sound disappointed. Damn it. I could've used a nice wet daydream to start the day off right. “Of course.” Preston winked at me and ran one his big hands down his flat, sexy chest which looked damn good, even in that ugly sweater, and turned away with a wink. Seconds later, the papers (who were absolutely, one hundred percent out to get me), slid from my hands and flitted across the floor in all directions like a flock of birds.

  Preston paused and glanced back at me, dark brows raised skeptically.

  Way to impress, Andi. Nice job.

  I'd been stalking Preston Ellis for the past two years, signing up for the classes I knew he'd be in, watching his ass as he wrote up formulas as our class's student assistant, and I'd failed to impress him. Heck, I'd failed to impress any guy ever. I was sort of an epic fail when it came to dudes. Twenty-two, perpetually single, unbelievably horny. That's me!

  “Let me get those,” he said as I climbed out of my seat and bent down. Hilarity ensued and we ended up butting heads hard. Let's just say Preston Ellis left that class with a bleeding forehead, and I left with the world's bluest balls. Or ovaries? How does that work? Aw, fuck it. You know what I meant.

  Case in point: I was horny as hell and there was nobody, and I mean nobody, that was going to be able to do a damn thing about it.

  I headed to the store after class, drawn by a sale on Valentine's Day candy and wine. Last year, I'd spent the stupid holiday alone. This year probably wouldn't be any different. I mean, it's not like I was desperate for a man or anything, it's just … it would be nice to have a date on Valentine's Day for a change.

  You didn't have to be so rude to Quinn, I told myself as I navigated between necking couples whose osculating I could only handle so much of. He was just giving you chocolates. I mean, even if all he really wanted was sex, why not give it to him?

  I tripped over the shoes of a man emerging from the Personal Hygiene aisle and fell face first into a bin of Valentine's Day pins. I almost screamed as I was submerged in white buttons with red and pink hearts, but before I could drown on Cupid kitsch, a strong hand was being wrapped around my waist. The mystery man pulled me out and spun me around.

  It was Quinn. Again.

  “Hey there, beautiful,” he said as he kept his arm wrapped around my waist. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me.” I raised my eyebrows at him and then my eyes caught on his opposite hand, and what was clutched in it. A box of condoms.

  “Getting ready for the big day already?” I asked him as I tried to untangle myself. All the while, the skin on my lower back between my shirt and jeans was tingling from the touch of Quinn's fingers. He stepped back and raised his hands in surrender.

  “You got me,” he said with a wink. “After all, I knew you'd agree to come out with me eventually. Pick you up tomorrow maybe?”

  “Right,” I said as I tried to walk away. Quinn stopped me with a hand on my arm, drawing my eyes around to his. They were so bright in his tan face, like two portals to the Caribbean. I could so vacation in there.

  “You sure you don't want to hang out with me tomorrow? I'd make it worth your while.” I paused and gave Quinn a once over that started at his red Mohawk and traveled all the way down to his bulging biceps, tight T-shirt, and landed on the bump in the front of his jeans. I wanted to say yes, but I was also ornery and had a bit of an acidic tongue that my mother could never quite curb. I think I was also allergic to being nice.

  “What's my name?” I asked finally, convinced that if he could at least get this, I'd go. I so wanted to. Quinn was … Quin was wow. Every girl on campus (and several boys) knew his name and they all wanted to fuck him. If they said otherwise, they were lying. He bit his lip and nibbled it for several moments before snapping his fingers.

  “I don't know your name per se, but I know you're the super hot chick that usually sits in the front row of our lit class.” Quinn threw me his sexiest grin from a mouth full of super white teeth. It made the lines of tattoos on his neck shift, drawing my attention to the color that crawled up the sides of his throat in artful swirls. It was a good trick, but not good enough.

  “Sorry, Quinn,” I said and then turned on my heel and tried to hide behind the row of pink chocolates. He followed me and stood close by, pretending to be interested in a gold box with a red bow on the top. I moved around the other side of the shelf, into an aisle full of stuffed animals. I only lasted thirty seconds there because the purple bears with kissy-faces scared the shit out of me. I went back to the candy aisle. Quinn was still there. “Stop following me,” I hissed at him as I picked up an abandoned hand basket and started tossing candy into it. Quinn turned to face me, the chains hanging from his belt jingling as he moved.

  “Sorry,” he said as he turned away. “Just buying a present for a beautiful girl.” And then he disappeared around the corner. I sat down on the floor and put my hands over my face, dragging them down slowly as I tried to wipe away some of my stress. This is why you're still a virgin, I told myself as I looked up and came face to face with a display of half priced Hershey's Kisses. I grabbed three bags.

  A few seconds later, Quinn came back around the corner with the chocolates, a receipt, and a condom tucked under the bow on top of the candy.

  “This is for you,” he said as he sat the present down on the floor next to me. As he stood up and moved around the corner, tight, sexy body disappearing from view, I called out to him.

  “Andrea Fisher,” I said, and he paused, laying one hand on the white metal shelving next to him. “Andi for short.”

  “Thanks, beautiful,” he said and then he was gone.

  I woke up an hour late and blew a big test in biology because I spent all night masturbating to Quinn Prentis and wearing fuzzy, plastic handcuffs that I bought at the store. I kind of felt stupid handcuffing one of my wrists to the headboard, but I did it anyway and had the best orgasm ever.

  “Thank you, sir,” I said as I unhooked myself and shook out my sore arm. I threw on a pair of white and blue striped pajamas and waddled down to the kitchen, just a tad sore down there from my new dildo. It was called the Randy, and it was my special friend on nights when I didn't have a warm body next to mine (that's every night).

  My friend/roommate, Genevieve Pares, was busy necking with her fuck buddy, Lance, on my couch. They kind of did other things on my couch, so I was always covering it with towels and such to catch juices, and inevitably all my other friends would ask, “Why the fuck do you have seven towels covering up your couch?” I never quite knew how to answer that question.

  “Hey guys,” I said. They ignored me which was okay because they sort of did this often. I kind of liked to think of them as people I could confide in. You know, the really good couple you could tell everything to because they're both your friends? Well, except for the fact that they never heard what I had to say. Oh, and they weren't a couple. That's okay, I made do. I just told new acquaintances that my boyfriend's name was Randy and my best friends were Genevieve and Lance and nobody asked otherwise. “I was thinking of going on a date with this guy, Quinn Prentis, because he's like … ” I pulled a gallon of milk from the fridge and dropped it when Genevieve moaned like a wild animal. White liquid shot out everywhere, making me even more depressed for the upcoming holiday. That's the only white liquid that I'm going to see spraying across my kitchen.

  “Lance! Lance! Lance!”

  “Anyway,” I continued as I grabbed a rag and started wiping up the floor. “Quinn is seriously the hottest guy I've ever seen, and I didn't think I had a chance with him, but … ”

  “Genevieve, ride me,
baby!”

  “Oh yeah, you know it!”

  “He actually seems interested in me.” I threw the rag in the sink and picked up the empty milk jug, tossing it into the garbage can next to the counter as the couch springs started to creak. “I just don't know … I kind of wanted to keep my V for someone special.” I sighed and traded my cereal bowl for a plate. Guess it was toaster pastry time again.

  I threw a couple of the fatty, flaky rectangles in and held up a hand to shield my eyes from my roommate as I made my way to the front door and checked the mail. I was expecting a Valentine's card from my mom (shut up, okay, I know that's fucking lame) with some money it and hadn't gotten the chance to look yesterday. Lo and behold, there were two pink envelopes in the mail that day.

  “Hot damn,” I said as I carried them both inside past the fuck buddies and sat down at the breakfast bar. One of the envelopes had a stamp on one corner and my mom's return address on the other. The second envelope was blank except for my name.

  Andrea Annette Fisher.

  “Huh,” I said as I slid my thumb under the pink paper and opened the envelope. The first thing that came out was a Valentine's Day card with a sexy man on the front. He had abs like the Grand Canyon, all mountains and valleys, and a huge bulge in his red and white underwear. Yummy.

  Bitch, please! You thought Cupid was a freaking baby? Check out this bow and arrow.

  I laughed as I reached over the counter and grabbed at my toaster pastries. Something slipped from inside the card and fell to the floor, picture side down. I set my plate down in front of me and looked at the message inside. It was blank except for an address written in neat, tiny letters, all caps. I didn't recognize the place, so I set it aside and climbed off the stool.

  “Fuck me hard, Lance! Now! Oh yeah, right there!”

  “What the hell is this … ” My voice trailed off as I grabbed the picture and flipped it over. “Holy cock!” I yelped as I came face to face with said object. There was a penis on the picture, a real, live penis with wrinkles and everything. It was as big as my Randy, long and wide, circumcised perfection. “Genevieve, seriously, come here and look at this.”