Page 6

Chapter Six

Jemma

A bby stands at the end of the long dining room table, dressed to perfection and with a big smile. She oozes sophistication and money in her black Dior wrap dress and Balenciaga pumps.

“Ladies, listen up. Kisses for Cancer is our biggest philanthropic event of the year,” Abby announces with her hands now on her narrow hips.

“Our kissing booth is the highlight of the carnival, and I expect all of you to take part. I know kissing strangers is not ideal, but ladies, this is for charity.”

Her voice reaches an annoying octave that almost causes me to roll my eyes.

“Not only do we want to raise as much money as possible, but we also need to beat out the other sororities on campus. We’ve won the Excellence in Philanthropy Award for the last five years, and I’m not about to lose it to Zeta Beta. Are we clear?”

We each mutter our acceptance, and Abby perks up, her smile even wider this time. She’s always so pretty and perfect, never a hair out of place. Her makeup is flawless, a blend of neutrals and pinks that round out her look.

“One more thing.” She holds up her index finger. “We have a group of volunteers helping us today with the kissing booth. I would like each of you to do your part and lend a hand if they need one.”

After she finishes her speech, Shannon leads my pledge class into the kitchen to serve Kappa Kool-Aid. She slides a stack of plastic cups in front of us.

“Take two cups each. We have a lot of thirsty men working hard on our kissing booth.”

We do as she asks, our movements so robotic it’s as if we’re all on autopilot. As much as I hate following orders, I understand the reason for all of it. At least our sisters haven’t asked us to do the ridiculous things I’ve seen the frat boys on campus do over the last few weeks.

In a single-file line, we exit the kitchen and head outside, where we find a large group of sweaty, shirtless men, some with hammers and nails in their hands and others holding up pieces of wood. Toned, tanned, and built-in all the right places, these guys must be here to test us.

The girls in front of me greet the shirtless boys, their hands outstretched with cups of juice.

I shuffle through the crowd, and that’s when I see him—Trent, the sexy blond from the Quad.

He pulls a navy-colored shirt from the back pocket of his mesh shorts and raises it to his face to wipe the sweat from his brows.

Why is he here?

A ripple of pleasure shoots through me as I study every inch of Trent’s ripped body.

All he did was wipe sweat from his face, and I’m already dead.

My jaw drops as I stare at his thick muscles, killer abs, and sculpted legs, all glistening in the sunlight.

For a second, I think about how it would feel to be in his arms, covered with his enormous body.

His lips felt so good on mine, his kisses soft yet aggressive.

A devious smirk tugs at his lips when he sees me. My cheeks flush when his eyes travel over my legs, slowly reaching my chest. His gaze settles on my breasts. He licks his lips, his eyes meeting mine as he moves toward me.

I mimic his reaction because he stirs up the same need inside me. He makes me want to do dirty things. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted a man. My mind goes blank when he smiles.

“Jemma with a J,” he says, his voice so deep and smooth it sends a wave of heat down my arms. He tips his head at the cups in my hands. “One of those for me?”

I hand a cup to Trent, still somewhat surprised to see him.

“You never showed last night,” he says. “I looked for you at the beach party.”

“I had to help my pledge class.”

“Are you working the kissing booth next weekend?”

I move my hands behind me, rocking back and forth. “Yeah, that’s what I was told.”

Trent bends down so our lips are almost touching. “I’ll be there. And I want another kiss from you.”