Trust

Haley can have any guy on campus, but all her dates seek only to get inside her pants. She wants more. She wants a man who is her friend, who she can respect, who she has passion for, who she can trust. She wants love.

Quinn has been her friend since forever, always there for her, but he doesn't believe he can be anything else for her, not her boyfriend and certainly not the love of her life.

When Haley takes Quinn for granted one time too many, it sets their relationship on an entirely new course. In exchange for his help, he demands a weekend with her serving as his naked slave girl. Turns out that they are each exactly what the other needs. The only question is whether each of them can overcome their own hangups in time to see it.

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Trust Sample:

Chapter One

 

Haley

Everything about my week sucked!

With midterm break fast approaching, I had projects and tests in all my classes, meaning study sessions and late nights every day. Then on Thursday, I got a call from Rachel telling me that our spirit signs for Saturday’s game had gotten wet and been completely ruined. Keep in mind that this was already late afternoon, and, since everyone had classes on Friday morning and plans to go out later, we had to jump right on getting the signs fixed.

I dropped everything and rushed over to the cheerleading building. By the time we got all the new ones painted and ready to go, it was after two o’clock in the morning. I didn’t get to my dorm room and into bed until after three. At least I fell asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next thing that I knew, I was at a football game, and it must have been a big one because the stands were packed. I felt every eye on me, thousands of people staring at my tight blue top with the red fire-breathing dragon emblazoned on it being pushed out by my full breasts. Each kick tossed my tiny pleated skirt up, revealing even more my toned thighs and my Lycra white bloomers.

Sure, my squadmates were beside me, but none of them were nearly as hot as me. Every single eye was on my flat stomach, belly button left bare by the tight athletic outfit the covered only the absolute essentials required for public decency.

I was the living embodiment of every man’s desire – a fit, blond cheerleader. My body was perfect – waist tiny with flaring hips and breasts that were high, firm, and large without being porn-star huge. My blue eyes glowed electric. My face inspired artists.

All attention was on me, and I adored it.

It was halftime, and we had just completed our dance routine when I looked at the scoreboard. We were down 31 to 10. Not good.

The team came out of the locker room and huddled on the sideline. Then the coach motioned for me to come over and join them.

That was weird as he’d never paid any of us cheerleaders any attention before, but, being as this was a dream, I didn’t think anything of it. I just did what he wanted.

“Haley,” he said, “the guys need a bit of extra motivation to win this one. I’ve promised them that they can remove a piece of your uniform for each touchdown they score the rest of the game.”

In my mind, I was all like sarcastically saying, “Sure coach, we’ll just play a little strip football. With all the people in the stands watching. No problem!”

But my lips didn’t actually move. I just swallowed hard and nodded.

What the hell?

We received the ball to start the second half, and Roger ran the kickoff back all the way. My fellow cheerleaders and I went wild, jumping, kicking, screaming. Then, Roger came up to me.

“Put your arms straight up over your head,” he said.

My mind shouted, “No! Don’t! That’s a horrible idea.”

But my hands didn’t listen. They shot up like I had absolutely no choice in the matter. Like I had no control over them. Like they’d obey Roger’s every whim.

He grinned as he gripped the bottom of my shirt, and, just like that, he tugged, lifting my top over my head and off me completely.

All of a sudden, I’m standing in front of thousands of rabid fans wearing a white sports bra, my minuscule skirt, bloomers, and footwear. My mind screamed at me to run off the field, to hide in the locker room until the game was over.

Instead of doing that, the logical and smart thing, I stayed with the squad and kept cheering, my hard nipples clearly poking at the thin fabric of my bra.

The defense held, and we soon got the ball back. A couple of plays later, Kevin threw a tight spiral that arched perfectly into Daniel’s hands thirty yards down the field. He sped past the safety and took it to the house.

Again, we screamed and did our happy cheers. Again, the player scoring the touchdown came up to me. This time, he told me to lift my skirt.

My mind protested, but my hands refused to listen. I grabbed the hem and lifted it, revealing my white bloomers to anyone who cared to look.

Like Roger, Daniel grinned toothily and reached out to me. His fingers found the elastic at my waist, and his thumbs hooked inside, his fingernails against my bare skin.

My mind screamed, “No! You’ve hooked not just the bloomers but my panties as well.”

My, by now, quite wet panties.

I said nothing, though. My lips remained stubbornly shut.

With no resistance from me, Daniel tugged downward. Both pieces of clothing traveled down my thighs, over my knees, past my shins to lay at rest around my feet.

Still I said nothing. The only saving grace was that, at some point during my underwear’s downward journey, my hands decided to preserve some of my modesty and let go of the skirt’s hem.

“Step out of them, please,” Daniel said.

I did. I mean, he’d at least said, “Please.”

At that point, I was standing on the sideline in front of thousands of people who all knew that I was wearing nothing under my tiny skirt. That, if my skirt wasn’t in the way, nothing at all would cover my most private spots.

I should have run from the sideline. Why didn’t I run from the sideline?

Instead, I stayed there. It seems like all the cheers from that point forward involved high kicks, and, when all the other girls on the squad kicked, I kicked. The difference was, though, that they only revealed their modest white bloomers.

Not me.

With each kick, I revealed my shaved slit and much, much more to the crowd.

Cameras flashed. Men cheered. Women jeered. And still I kept kicking.

The quarter ended with the score visitors 31 and home team 24.

Our next touchdown drive came in the middle of the fourth quarter. Following Quinn’s block on the left side, Ben, the starting running back, cut sharply and was off to the races. The defenders didn’t even touch him.

Minutes later, he stood in front of me. “Raise your arms, please.”

Clearly, he intended to take my sports bra, and, again, my mind rebelled. This time my mouth listened. “If I do that, you’ll leave me topless. Everyone will see my firm 32C breasts with their dime sized areola and hard nipples.”

“That’s kind of the point – or points in this case.” He smirked, gesturing toward the indentations on the apex of my cups. “Get your arms up.”

My hands went up on their own, like I had no control over them, and he peeled the bra over my head, showing thousands of people my bare tits.

I should have screamed. Found some way to cover myself. Gotten the hell out of there.

Instead, I just kept cheering, dancing in just my insignificant skirt and footgear, not even bothering to cover my tight body with my pompoms. My boobs jiggled with every movement, and men hooted and hollered. I flashed my hot pussy with every kick, and men hooted and hollered. After one particularly vigorous jump left my skirt looking like a belt around my waist, Stacy kissed me, sticking her tongue deep into my mouth, and men hooted and hollered.

I’d never seen or heard the crowd so excited.

I’d never been so excited.

I was so aroused that I felt giddy.

With the score tied at 31, our hated rivals, the Gators, drove down to inside the red zone. There was time for only one more play, and they brought their kicker out onto the field. The snap was high, but the holder got it down. The placekicker’s foot made contact with the ball, and it took off, only to connect with the outstretched hand of one of our interior linemen.

Roger, who had been rushing off the edge, picked up the loose ball and ran back eighty yards to score and end the game. We won!

Everyone was so happy. Yelling. Cheering. We’d never experienced anything like it. I almost forgot that I was mostly naked.

Suddenly, though, Roger was in front of me.

“You know what comes next,” he said.

“I do,” I said.

My mind remained mute this time, silenced by the juices soaking my nether region. I don’t know who wanted what was to come next more – the players, the crowd, or me.

Roger tugged my skirt off, and I demurely stepped out of it, leaving me naked in front of God and everyone. The team hoisted me up above their heads, my legs splayed and their hands rubbing all over me, the buzzer sounding. And sounding. And sounding.

They were carrying me back to the locker room and who knows what would happen to me – a lone, naked cheerleader, in the football players’ dressing room. I wasn’t worried though.

Then I heard pounding and a muffled voice.

“Haley!” the voice called through my closed dorm room door. “Your damn alarm has been going off for a ten minutes. Get your butt out of bed!”

My hand was inside my panties, soaked, and it took a great deal of effort for me to pull it out in order to turn off the alarm. As soon as the noise stopped, both from the clock and my dormmate, I wanted to resume what my fingers had started. A glance at the clock, though, told me that I simply didn’t have time to finish anything.

Instead, I drug my horny body out of bed, dressed, drew my hair back into a ponytail, and headed to class. Because I’d set my alarm for the last possible minute and slept past it, I didn’t have time to walk, though. Which meant I had to drive and hope to find a parking spot.

Awesome.

I’d rushed out the door without grabbing so much as a low fat yogurt to eat, so, in addition to being smelly from the lack of a shower, groggy from the lack of sleep, and all hot and bothered from my dream, I was starved as well. Then I turned on my car, and a loud buzz greeted my ears as the red glow of the low gas warning light appeared on the dash.

The gauge was low, really low, as in pretty much empty. Not even enough gas to get across campus.

Though I was already running really late, my only choice was to go to the service station across the street. Crap!

And of course there was a long line at the pump, though I swear that, every other day, there was hardly anyone there. It took me fifteen minutes waiting for the slow poke old lady in front of me, and then I had to fill up and pay.

By the time I got to the science building, I was late for class. I flashed Mr. Winston my flirtiest smile and flicked my long blond hair over my shoulder as I walked in, hoping he’d give me some extra time at the end of class to finish my test.

Instead, he glared at me as he handed me a stack of papers and said, “You have forty five minutes left to finish this, Ms. Bennett. Good luck.”

Crap! I had to get at least a “B” in the class to preserve my grade or my scholarship would go bye bye. If I screwed up too badly on this test, I’d have to double or triple the time I spent on the subject, and I simply didn’t know how I could do that.

By frantically writing until the class period ended, I was able to reach the last question at least, but I wouldn’t find out if I did well enough until we got back from break. Those minutes I was late would have been really helpful.

At least that was my last test. All I had to do was turn in one project by literally midnight, and I was home free.

Oh shit! The project! Quinn!

I was supposed to meet him last night to get his help writing it. And I never showed. I glanced down at my phone and grimaced. Five missed calls from him.

He was going to be so ticked with me.

Chapter Two

 

Quinn

To tell the truth, I was more than a little worried about Haley. Yeah, her active social life didn’t leave her much time for me, but she didn’t normally just completely blow me off. So, when I saw her waiting in the hall outside my class, the first thing I felt was relief.

“Where were you last night?” I asked. “We were supposed to work on your physics project.”

“Something came up.” She looked pissed. Like it was my fault that we hadn’t gotten together to get her work done.

“I waited at the library until it closed,” I said.

“Well, I couldn’t make it.”

I didn’t understand why she was giving me attitude. “You could have at least called.”

“I don’t call guys. They call me.”

My hands clenched into fists.

I’d had stuff I could have been doing last night. In addition to taking a full load of classes, I played football. Those two activities didn’t exactly leave me a lot of free time, and I’d agreed to use some of it to help her. Then, she just didn’t show. She didn’t call or even answer her phone when I tried to reach her. And now she told me that she considered me to be just some guy?

No. Just no.

“My mistake,” I said. “I didn’t know that I was a ‘guy.’ I thought that I was a friend.”

I turned and walked away.

Chapter Three

 

Haley

I grimaced as I watched him walk away from me. We’d been friends for practically forever, and he was a great guy. Huge. Six foot six to my five three and the football program has him at two hundred ninety five pounds, nearly three times my weight and nearly all the excess completely muscle. He was also the smartest guy I knew.

And, unfortunately, he also happened to have a huge crush on me.

When he’d gotten angry at me and clenched his fists, he’d given me pause for a half an instant. I was almost actually scared of him. Then I remembered that I had him completely wrapped around my little finger.

No matter how he felt about me, though, I’d clearly hurt his feelings, and I felt truly awful about that. He’d been way too good to me over the years for me to treat him like he didn’t matter. He certainly didn’t deserve to be stood up. If a guy had done that to me…

I really, really should have ran after him and apologized.

In the end, though, I was simply too tired and stressed to make the effort. It was Quinn, after all. I’d be especially nice to him next time I saw him, and he’d forgive me. He always did.

I basically put the whole incident out of my brain and went on with my day, forgetting about him all together.

He stayed out of my mind completely until late that afternoon when I remembered that twenty five percent of my physics grade for the semester was riding on a project that I hadn’t even started and had no clue how to do.

The teacher was a stickler for turning in assignments on time, too. I simply had to get it done in the next seven hours. Not doing it, or even getting a bad grade on it, would cost me my scholarship, my spot on the squad, everything I’d worked so hard for.

There was no way I could do it all by myself and get anywhere close to the grade I needed, so I tried to think of someone besides Quinn who could help me.

I came up blank. No one was as smart as him or as good at explaining stuff to me as he was.

God! I had made so many stupid mistakes. When Rachel had called me about the spirit signs, I had totally blanked on the fact that I had arranged to meet Q at the library. And I’d taken my bad mood because of my shitty morning out on him. Then, I hadn’t even bothered to simply apologize.

If I would have just remembered to text him or, at the very least, been sweet to him this morning. But I hadn’t. I had, in fact, been a grade A bitch.

I sighed. What was done, was done. I’d just have to work extra hard at getting back in his good graces. Be charming. Flirty. Nice.

None of that was exactly easy to pull off when one has cancel plans with friends in order to do work on a Friday night. Oh well, needs must and all that. After texting my squadmates that I wouldn’t be going out with them, I pulled a short skirt and low cut top out of my closet.

Those should help.

I’d never actually been to his dorm room, but I knew where it was. When I got outside his room, I knocked.

“Go away!” he yelled. “I’m busy.”

I tried the knob and found it unlocked. After cracking open the door, I stuck my head in. “Even for me?”

He hastily closed his laptop and turned around, looking a little flushed. I couldn’t help but notice that his room was pretty trashed with dirty clothes lying around everywhere, and it was obvious that he wasn’t expecting company being dressed in an old t-shirt with food stains.

Perhaps I should have sent him a text first.

With my voice practically dripping honey and a smile on my face, I asked, “I was wondering if you could help me with that project tonight?”

It had been my experience that he would ask how high on his way up if I told him to jump in that tone of voice.

Instead, he still sounded ticked as he asked, “What have you done so far?”

I didn’t want to tell him that I hadn’t even started yet, so I didn’t say anything.

“Haley! This is a major deal. It would take me hours to get it done for you.”

I sort of grimaced and smiled at the same time.

He shook his head. “It’s not worth it this time. Not for just some girl.”

My heart started beating a little faster when he said that. I didn’t have any other options, and my entire future was riding on getting him to help me.

I probably should have just been straight with him, explained how I had screwed up, apologize, and tell him that, of course, I thought of him as my friend. He was one of my best friends, actually – someone who had been there for me as long as we’d known each other going all the way back in preschool.

To be honest, I was flustered by how hostile he was acting, so, instead of throwing myself on his mercy, I went with my default mode with boys – flirtatious.

“What would make it worth it?” I asked, my voice filled with all kind of naughty suggestions.

Now, I wouldn’t normally advise a girl in my position to ask such a question of a college man, but I had lots of experience manipulating guys the do whatever I wanted them to. I had tons of experience maneuvering this guy in particular in the direction I wanted him to go.

Besides, it was Quinn for Pete’s sake. If I couldn’t trust him, who could I trust?

The look he gave me, though, further flustered me. It was unlike any he’d ever directed at me. Cold. Hard. Predatory.

“You,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I couldn’t believe how he was acting, how direct he was being.

He met my eyes, his glare still cold and heartless. “You come away with me and do whatever I want.”

From the look in his eye and the tone of his voice, I knew exactly what he meant by “whatever.” I shook my head.

“Fine,” he said, turned away from me. “Leave. Good luck on your project.”

I couldn’t believe he’d dismissed me so easily. He knew I needed his help. I was so completely screwed if I walked out.

When you’re as pretty as I am, you don’t get through your high school dating career escaping overly horny guys without having some skills, and Quinn, despite his size, didn’t scare me. Sure, he was sounding tough now, but he’d never follow through on anything really bad.

I gave serious thought to just shutting him down. Calling him out for saying that to me. I could have easily made him feel guilty enough to do my project.

On the other hand, this new side of Quinn was interesting. I figured it might be fun to play along.

“Do you mean everything?” I asked, now speaking to his back.

“Yes.”

“I’ve never gone that far.”

He slowly turned back to face me, and I could tell he didn’t believe me.

“It’s true,” I said. “Heaving petting under my shirt is all I’ve let anyone do. I swear.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard in the locker room.”

That pissed me off. Guys were claiming I went all the way with them? Those assholes. It just proved that I was right not to trust them.

“Talk is all it is,” I said, my voice as cold as Quinn’s. “I’m a virgin.”

I expected my use of the v-word to embarrass him. To get a reaction. To make him blush.

Nope.

“Fine,” he said. “You’ll do everything I want but that one thing. Agreed?”

I figured that I could always talk him out of it later when he wasn’t so upset. “Okay.”

“To be crystal clear, in return for me doing your project for you and turning it in, you will meet me in the parking lot after the game Saturday night. Besides that one little rule, you are one hundred percent mine from then until Monday afternoon, willing to treat my every whim as your ultimate command. Deal?”

God! It sounded like he was really going to go through with this. Interesting. Very interesting.

“Yes.” My voice sounded a lot smaller than I intended.

“Good.”

I turned to walk out.

“Wait a minute,” he said.

I spun back to him a lot quicker than I intended. What now?

“My first order for my slave girl – you are to wear nothing but a smile the entire time you’re with me. You’re to be completely naked when you walk to my car. You’re not to bring a single strip of clothing with you. Got it?”

Slave girl? Wow. That was something I’d never even considered trying, especially not with Quinn. But seeing him like this …

I nodded. “May I go now, master?”

He grinned. “Master. I like that. And, no, you may not go.”

“That’s not enough for you?” I asked. “What else could you possibly want?”

“See, the thing is …” he said. “Well, no offense, but I don’t trust you.”

“How long have we known each other?” I asked. “Sixteen years? Seventeen?”

“I know, and until last night, I’d have thought that there was no way you’d just stand me up like that.” His voice lowered. “I actually thought we were friends.”

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how badly I’d hurt him. Admittedly, I’d never been that great a friend to him. I got a lot more out of our relationship than he did, and, sometimes, I took him for granted. And, yes, on occasion I wished he didn’t crush on me so hard.

I never wanted to hurt him, though.

“Quinn, I really am sor-”

“No! Don’t even bother. It’s way too late for that.”

I grimaced. “You’re right. I screwed up. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

“I’m glad you said that because I want a guarantee.”

“So how do I prove myself to you?” I held up my right hand. “I do so solemnly swear that I will follow through on my part of the deal.” I grinned a little, hoping I’d lightened the mood some.

He wasn’t having it. At all. “I want an insurance policy, something to hang over your head that will make sure that you show up.”

My heart sped up. “What did you have in mind?”

“I figure every guy on campus would love to see a picture of you naked, so I’ll take one right now. If for some reason you’re nowhere to be found Saturday night, I email it around, and I’m a hero.”

“There’s no way am I letting you do that!” I scoffed.

“Fine. Leave. Now!” He looked, and sounded, serious.

Was it possible that he really wouldn’t help me unless I went through with what he demanded? Surely not.

“How do I know you won’t send the picture out anyway?” I asked.

“You can trust me.”

It was more than mildly infuriating that he was right. I absolutely could trust him. Look up dependable in the dictionary, and there was his picture. If he told me he’d do something or be somewhere, there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that he’d follow through.

Thoroughly defeated, I conceded, “Get your camera.”

The meaning of my words didn’t hit me until they’d left my mouth. I was really about to strip naked for Quinn. I couldn’t believe it.

No matter what my past dates may have said, I’d told the truth to him earlier; I was fairly inexperienced. That wasn’t to say that no guy had seen me naked or anything as I had played strip poker and truth or dare when I was younger, but this wasn’t something that I normally did. Or that came easily for me.

As he turned to take out his nice, expensive DSLR out of a camera bag, I slipped off my flats, letting my toes dig into the plush blue rug protecting my feet from the cold tile of his room. By the time he faced me again, I had my hands at the hem of my top.

I blushed. “Are you really going to make me do this? Strip naked in front of you?”

“Yes.”

In fits and spurts, I pulled my shirt over my head, revealing my lacy bra to him. I was sure that he could see my nipples through the transparent cups, and he was about to be seeing even more.

I slipped my hands around to my back and unzipped the skirt, letting it fall to the floor and stepping out of it.

As I stood before him wearing only my skimpy underwear, I asked, “Is this far enough?”

I couldn’t believe how tiny my voice sounded, basically pleading. I usually spoke with either authority or deliberate flirtatiousness. Instead, I sounded almost submissive.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before, Haley.”

“What? When?”

“How many times did you invite me up to your room back in high school? I’d show up to your house to help you study, and you’d invent a reason that you needed to change. You’d strip to your underwear right in front of me before moving behind me to your closet.”

“You peeked! I can’t believe you did that. I trusted you not to look!”

“Of course not,” he said. “Like you didn’t know there was a mirror right there on your dresser, clearly in my line of sight. You cannot expect me to believe that you didn’t set the whole thing up because you enjoyed showing off.”

My jaw gaped. He was right … in a way. I’d loved teasing him by parading in front of him in my bra and panties and the thrill of being naked while he was in the room. I felt safe with him. He’d never, ever do anything I didn’t want him to do, so it was harmless fun.

I’d never realized he could see everything.

“Now,” he said, “quit stalling and get the rest off.” His voice was filled with confidence devoid of doubt.

I shivered. Two distinct feelings warred in my brain – nervousness at what I was about to do versus excitement about being seen. My fingers actually trembled as I unlatched the two catches holding my bra closed behind my back. My breasts dropped slightly as the lacy support released.

As I repositioned my hands to the front, taking hold of the now loosened straps, I couldn’t help but wonder if I really should do this. What did I want? What did he want? Would this change things between us?

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Do it!” he commanded.

I dropped my arms to my side and shrugged my shoulders forward. My bra fell from my chest and hit the floor. I raised my hands to cover my face.

Quinn, one of my oldest friends, was looking at my bare tits, and I just stood there for several moments, letting him do so. Maybe I was thinking that if I gave him long enough, he’d relent.

If so, I was wrong.

I took a deep breath, dropped my hands, and hooked my thumbs in my panties. Such a significant item of clothing should take a lot of effort to remove, but, in reality, it took incredibly little pressure to push them down. After another breath, I was stepping out of the garment and standing completely, one hundred percent, bare in front of him.

He didn’t say a word, just put the camera up to his eye and pushed the shutter release.

Click.

Just like that, there now existed a digital image of me displaying so much that I normally hid. He could do anything with that picture. Send it to the entire school. Simply anything.

He had his blackmail material.

“Get dressed and get out of here,” he said, turning around and sitting at his desk.

He didn’t even glance at me or say another word as I gathered my clothes and threw them on. I practically ran as I fled his room.