Author's Note: I've been seeing a lot of college themed Olitz fics around lately and I want to play, too. Here's what you need to know: 23 year old Liv's known as Poindexter Pope throughout campus, always reading, always staying in, never doing anything fun, holding back who she really is out of insecurity and doubt. 25 year old Fitz has disowned himself from Big Jerry and his machinations and after finding Mellie in the throes with another man ends it with her on the spot, prompting his boys to take on the mission of getting him over her by getting on top of (or underneath or sideways with) someone else. In order to shut Abby up for a month about her social life (or lack thereof), Liv agrees to accompany her and their group of friends out to a House Party. Their paths collide and then…well, just read on.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
"Come on, Liv. It'll be fun!"
"Don't say fun. That'll send her heading straight for the bunker and a rocking fetal position."
"Shut the fuck up, David! Olivia, it's just one party. You won't even have to stay the whole time…"
"Abs, I have two papers due on Monday morning and a debate that evening. I can't…"
"You're already done with one paper and you just need to add footnotes to the other one, I checked. As for the Debate, you're Olivia Pope, the Apolitical Assassin of Georgetown. You'll take those clowns out from NYU with your hands tied behind your back. Besides, it's on a Friday. With me around, your hangover will be gone by Sunday evening…maybe. Come on, please?"
"If she doesn't want to go, then we shouldn't make her. Besides, you heard her. She's got shit to do…"
"Huck, you're just as busy as her and you're going."
"I have my reasons."
"Yeah, that Quinn Perkins girl that just transferred in from Texas. Ever since you two geeked out together at the diner over the glitches in the new Windows X-whatever, you've been after her like you're the IRS. Harrison, tell her to come with us tomorrow!"
"No one tells Liv to do anything and you know it. Good luck trying, though. It's like pulling teeth…"
"I'm sitting right here, you know. Abby, I'm really not one for partying."
"You never even tried it… look, if you come to this thing, I promise on all my baking equipment that I'll leave you alone about your impending cat ladydom for a month. One whole month of your choosing and I can't wiggle out of it. You can wear whatever you want, drink as little as you want, and you don't have to talk to anyone past bare minimum politeness, although it would be nice for you to get you some headboard action of the non Cosby Kid kind."
"Edison wasn't a Cosby Kid."
"Uh, yeah he was and he had a 50s husband mentality that made me want to chop his nads off and use them as sprinkles."
"Me too. That's why I ended it. All right, Gingersnap, I'll come. But I won't like it…"
"Kick-ass! She's coming with us!"
"It's a miracle!"
"Shut the fuck up, David!"
We doin'... big pimpin', we spendin' G's
Check 'em out now
Big pimpin', on B.L.A.D.'s
We doin'... big pimpin' up in N.Y.C.
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B
Yo yo yo... big pimpin', spendin' G's
We doin - big pimpin', on B.L.A.D.'s
We doin... big pimpin' up in N.Y.C.
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B (b...)…
The volume on her stereo was loud enough to make the floor vibrate underneath her bare feet as she bounced in place to the beat, much to Abby Whelan's grinning delight. Olivia Pope was not one for partying but she also wasn't one for doing things in half measures. If she was going to disrupt her routine and 'let loose', then she was going to go all out and few things got her hyped better than a Jay-Z classic. Not to mention her favorite white panties with the tiny black bow and the matching sea shell cup white bra.
She was going to need all the help she could get.
Nigga it's the - big Southern rap impresario
Comin' straight up out the black bar-rio
Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe
Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh
Oops, my bad, that's my scenario
No I can't fuck a scary hoe
Now every time, every place, everywhere we go
Hoes start pointin' - they say, "There he go!"
Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat than a little bit
We don't pull it out over little shit.
And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit…
The party was going to be at Alpha Sigma Omega's place, also known as the House of the Silver Spoon Hotties. Old money, new money, political money…all kinds of money was represented in their lineup. There were first draft QB picks in the same hallway as Rhodes Scholars and it was the place of the Names. Names like Doyle, Reston, Carter, and Grant. The members of the frat were known for their charm, their cunning, and their looks. From the Brooklyn Beboy to the Texan Cowboy, a person's preference was there for the ogling, the lusting, the flirting, and if brave enough, the taking…
…if he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck witch'all
If I wasn't rappin' baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
Chromin' shinin' sippin' daily, no rest until whitey pay me
Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys
Comin' down in candied toys, smokin weed and talkin' noise…
A white t-shirt with the Ramones eagle on the side in bright green was pulled over her head and went down to her hips, showing a daring but not indecent amount of cleavage. Dark gray capri yoga pants went on next, emphasizing the strength of her long legs and the full roundness of her ass. Bending down, she slid into a pair of sturdy black heels and topped the t-shirt with a black short sleeved button down, the silver decorative buckles at the bottom of the sleeves matching the ones on her heels. Clicking to her vanity, she released the usual clips pinning her hair up and it fell to her shoulders in its natural thick waves, her center part on point. After hesitating for a moment, Olivia carefully removed the black square frame glasses she was known to wear and set them down. While she did have astigmatism, she could see well enough without them but…no! She wasn't backing down from this! She was a Pope and Popes never quit and they never backed down! She could do this!
Opening the drawer, she pulled out the unopened Urban Decay palettes she had bought over the summer before fishing her mascara and liner out of her tote. Opening the Dangerous palette, she picked the shade of deep purple labeled 'gravity' and applied it evenly over both eyes. The black liner pencil came next and was smeared on with a thumb to give a 80s like look. Two coats of mascara and finally, she opened a stick of deep, matte red lipstick and applied it. Straightening up, she put her cosmetics in the black clutch she had loaded earlier and looked towards her now gaping best friend. She turned off the stereo and topped her outfit with a cream colored trench coat that flared at the bottom with each step. It was her favorite coat. It made her feel like she could take on anything and more importantly, it made her feel…sexy. Getting to the bottom of the stairs, she felt a deep shot of satisfaction as the group's collective jaws hit the floor at the sight of her.
"Let's do this!", she declared before putting her best strut forward, a warrior's smile curving her lips as they fell into step with her out into the warm mid-autumn evening.
…And we be... big pimpin', on B.L.A.D.'s
Cause we be... big pimpin' in P.A.T.
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B... nigga.
/
"Fitzgerald, I'm so sorry! It was a stupid mistake and…"
"Save it, Millicent. I had my suspicions about you from the moment Big Jerry introduced us so I did some digging. Turns out that not only were you cheating on me with Rimbeau, you were cheating with a Paul Mosley of Raleigh, NC, your hometown. You're not sorry about anything except the fact that you've lost your opportunity to get in good with the Grants. Or not. Big Jerry likes them young and icy…"
"Your father will never allow you to break up with me without consequences. He wants us married no matter what the cost."
"Yes, he made that very clear when I contacted him earlier. In response, I told him that he could take his threats, his Plans for me being his political Golden Goose, and his moneygrubbing Matchmaking and fuck off. He said that he'd disown me, that he'd ruin me, but what my father has forgotten is that my inheritance is controlled through my mother's side of the family and they despise him and everything that he stands for. They never trusted him and since I'm their only grandchild/nephew/cousin, they wanted to make sure I would be okay."
"What are you rambling about?"
"He can cut me off but in response to that, the trust funds from them and my mother's personal estate will kick in fully, making what he's dangling in front of me look like chump change. Oh, yes. As long as I don't something completely stupid, like, I don't know, buying half of Germany and renaming it Fitzgerbralter, I'm set for life. Also, the PreNup he signed when marrying into the Neiderman family also penalizes him for any proven amount of infidelity and everyone but my mother knew how much of a whore he was when he was on the road and in his office. I managed to find 8 women ready and willing to go public with their affairs with him over the years. And then, I found evidence of under the table financial dealings during his campaigns and his terms as California Governor, which I sent to the panel of people my mother's family put together to explore allegations of voter fraud. It seems that he may stolen a couple of elections in his heyday. It's gonna be great. It's gonna be an absolute, Pulitzer and Emmy worthy smash: Legacy Destroyed: The Fitzgerald Grant Jr. Story. His professional credibility is gonna go down in flames, his personal life will exposed and disected to become a punch line worthy of a whole catalog full of stained blue dresses, he'll likely do time… and it's all thanks to you, Millicent. I would have never mustered up the courage and resolve to fight against him and win without your coming into my life and playing me like a fucking violin."
"You…you…you…I…Fitzgerald, wait… don't go…we can…we can…I…"
"Thank you so much, Millicent. For the first time ever, I am truly a free moral agent and I'm never going back. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you and I hope that you have a long and healthy and warmly fulfilling life…far away from me."
"Fitzgerald! Fitzgerald, come back here!"
Free like the river
Flowing freely through infinity
Free to be sure of
What I am and who I need not be
Free from all worries
Worries prey on oneself's troubled mind
Freer than the clock's hands
Tickin' way the times
Freer than the meaning of free that man defines
Life running through me
Till I feel my father God has called…
"Your father called me again, today. He's getting absolutely crucified out there, Fitz."
"Oh, I know he is. I've been following the story since it broke and it's a doozy. I never knew just how dirty he was…in more ways than one."
"Look, I know that Big Jerry has been a bastard towards you since before you could talk but maybe you could fly back to California and give a statement, show a little support for him?"
"I can't do that, Cyrus."
"Can't or won't?"
"You're the almighty, all powerful Cyrus Beene, you figure it out."
After his Liberation 2 months before, Fitz Grant III's personality had changed. He was still the same jovial and fiercely intelligent person he had been before but there was steel there that hadn't been there before. Or perhaps it had been but he had never noticed it before, never grasped onto it tightly and greedily like he was now. He was absolutely done with people's shit and he was unafraid to let them know if the need arose. Surprising everyone, he was going for the Bar, wanting to obtain his legal license so he could go into family law as an attorney and eventually a judge. His reaching out to his mother's family after years of disconnect, years of the fear of being lumped in with Big Jerry, and the way they had used the courts to rally around him…it had been like a shot of adrenaline. He had only gone on the law track to appease his father, to prep for the Long Road to 1600 Penn but meeting the attorneys, learning about the maneuvers, documents and precedents that achieved the Herculean task of culling his father…it was a rush that he wanted to explore. He wanted to help protect families of all types and backgrounds from those who hurt them while claiming to love them. He truly wanted to make a difference…
"You…you're the source, aren't you? You are! You're the one pulled the fire alarm. You…I'm impressed. I didn't think you had it in you."
Against his will, a small but very smug smirk curved his lips upwards and Fitz propped his black canvas sneaker clad feet up on one of the tables students used during lectures.
"I didn't do it by myself but I did kick over the first domino. Cyrus, my father has spent his life hurting people. My mother, myself, the women he cheated with and on, the voters and people he manipulated and stole from…I'm of the opinion that what you give, you get back tenfold. He gave pain, he gave ruined reputations, he gave mockery and scorn and now, his time has come and I will nothing to temper it. He's always claimed to be strong, to be a real man. Real men own their shit and endure the consequences with dignity and honor to come through stronger. He'll be fine in the end."
"And if he's not?"
"I won't lose any sleep over it and if need be, I'll be glad to give his eulogy."
… Freer than a raindrop
Falling from the sky
Freer than a smile in a baby's sleepin' eyes
I'm free like a river
Flowin' freely through infinity
I'm free to be sure of what
I am and who I need not to be
I'm much freer - like the meaning of the word free that crazy man defines…
"Hell hath no fury like a Fitz Grant III scorned…"
"Mm. You have to really care about someone for them to scorn you, Cyrus. I didn't really care about Mellie. Not like I should've if she was going to be my wife and I know for a fact that she didn't care that much about me either, despite her wailing protests to the contrary. I'd like to think that even if I didn't find out what was going on, I would've been strong enough not to let Big Jerry railroad me down the aisle with her but…well, I guess I'll never find out, now. I gotta go."
"Ah, yes. The bacchanalia at your House tonight. What's the occasion?"
"Officially, it's to give everyone something good to remember before the first exams destroy all their hopes and precious dreams but according to the guys, I'm more backed up than LA rush hour traffic so it's time for me to get back in the saddle and what better way to do that than to have an open house party where the women outnumber the men 3 to 1?"
"Nice."
"Not really but it is what it is. I'm open to anything coming my way nowadays. I'll be at the Debate on Monday."
"Good, you'll be able to see the Apolitical Assassin in action."
"Who?"
"Oh, sorry. I forgot you're still settling in. Olivia Pope. People around campus call her Poindexter. She's a couple of years behind you but she's got a grasp and spin on Politics far beyond her years. She's like a shy baby duck everywhere else but put her in a Debate and she's a ruthless, bloodthirsty lioness, an absolute pistol. She's brilliant, one of my best students, if not the best, not that I'll ever tell her that, of course…"
"Of course. Well, I'll be sure to keep an eye out for her. Later, Cyrus."
"Don't get anyone pregnant!"
Laughing, he waved and headed down the corridor, a serene smile brightening his face.
…Free - free like the vision that
The mind of only you are ever gonna see
Free like the river my life
Goes on and on through infinity.
/
Baby Boy, you stay on my mind
Fulfill my fantasies
I think about you all the time
I see you in my dreams
Baby Boy, not a day goes by
Without my fantasies
I think about you all the time
I see you in my dreams…
Olivia loved to dance. She always had and along with her studies and swimming, it had become her solace when times got rough. People could leave, places and boarding schools could change but music…music stayed consistent. Even with all the different genres, all the innovations in creating beats and hooks, at the core it was always a way for people to express themselves in a way that words and lies couldn't touch.
After doing 4 straight tequila shots in a row with David Rosen (impressing many of the party-goers, party-goers who had been comically astounded to see her amongst them) and systematically annihilating an innocent pizza with her friends, she had headed towards the basement, towards the source of the bass shaken floor. Initially, she had hugged the walls, getting a feel for the layout and trying to determine if the DJ (Gideon Wallace, a journalism student) knew what they were doing. Once it had become clear that he did, she had claimed a place just off the center of the floor and remained there, moving in and out of dance packs of girls and fending off the overtures of various boys between breaks, mainly Jake Ballard.
He had arrived at Georgetown after 2 tours during Operation: Iraqi Freedom and through the GI Bill was getting his degrees in Constitutional Law and Poli-Sci, like her. A group assignment from Professor Whitley had put her in his crosshairs last semester and he had been pursuing her ever since, much to Abby's amusement and the boys' indifference or disdain, it depended on what day it was.
Olivia was not interested in him romantically. She just wasn't. He was smart and he was funny and reasonably attractive but there was just no spark on her part, which she had firmly informed him many a time. Unfortunately, he was the sort of man that thought NO meant there was leeway for convincing, that if she just 'gave him a chance', then she'd realize how good they could be together.
Edison Davis had used the same logic to start their relationship and now that she knew better, she wouldn't be falling into that particular tiger trap again. Spotting him halfway down the stairs, Olivia quickly absorbed herself back into the mass, eventually finding herself near a much darker corner of the basement. Hopefully, Jake would think she had left and he'd find another girl to bother for the time being. Turning her back to the corner (and the likely fornicating couple in its shadowy depths), she fell back into the song, one of her favorites from Beyonce.
Picture us dancin' real close
In a dark dark corner of a basement party
Every time I close my eyes
It's like everyone left but you and me…
Closing her eyes, she gently ran her hands over her torso, her hips winding in serpentine movements as she spun in place. It would be quite nice if the hands weren't her own but baby steps. She had gone from a semi-recluse in the hierarchy to a 'cool geeky girl' in less than 4 hours. There was no reason to…
Her eyes opened wide as hands spanned her hips.
In our own little world
The music is the sun
The dance floor becomes the sea…
They were much too big to be Jake's and she knew that he wouldn't have the guts to touch her so matter of factly anyway. Unsure of whether to pull away or scream, she turned her head and looked up, meeting cerulean slate eyes.
Although she had never met him personally, she had seen Fitz Grant III's arrival to Georgetown during a morning run. Unlike other Senator's sons and big shots, he had arrived in a nice, late model BMW and had hauled all of his luggage into the house himself. Still, the female population had gone absolutely gaga over him, especially after seeing him strip off his shirt during a large pickup basketball game on the last truly hot day of the year. There was YouTube footage of it and Abby had shown it to her, declaring him to be 'smokin' fucking hot, even if he is from the loins of a Republican piece of shit'. Olivia had agreed and seemingly discarded the fact but in reality, she hadn't. And now, he was touching her. He was looking at her and touching her and…
His hands started to pull away and she stopped them by putting her hands on top.
… Feels like true paradise to me…
/
He had arrived to the party just as it really started to pick up and the Hot Topic was Poindexter Pope, Cy's prizefighting Debate student. Apparently, the shy baby duck had come out swinging: looking good, doing multiple shots, and was totally dancing it up in the basement. Fitz had always been curious and after mingling in the backyard briefly, used the cellar entrance to the basement to hug the walls without being bothered. He wasn't one for dancing. In fact, many friends had compared his dancing to a drunken giraffe on roller-skates but he had wanted to put a face to the name. And he had.
Olivia Pope was like a pure blue flame to him, drawing him in immediately. Fitz was no stranger to beautiful women nor was he a stranger to intelligent ones. Yet listening to her discuss the raging scandal surrounding his father and outlining a proper hypothetical replacement for the Senate seat before watching her hips follow Nina Sky's demand to Move Ya Body had shaken everything up. He had withdrawn to the shadows as Jake Ballard came up to her, assuming that he was with her and wanting to regroup, maybe grab a drink or two to help get over the disappointment.
He had assumed wrong. After the other man had gone up to use the head, he had overheard some people speculating on when she'd finally snap and mace him blind so he'd leave her alone for good. Given that she was known for her withdrawn nature, the likelihood of her being unattached was high and if so, Fitz wanted to introduce himself, talk to her about their mutual familiarity with Cyrus Beene.
Things hadn't worked out that way.
…Baby Boy, you stay on my mind
Baby Boy, you are so damn fine …
They had moved back into the main area of the party and were drawing eyes as they danced together. Well, she was dancing. He was just following. In a move reminiscent to the video, she stepped forward and dropped low, coming up slowly and looking at him with heated intent, the crowd urging them on as he pulled her flush against him, front to front for swaying.
Baby Boy, won't you be mine
Baby, let's conceive an angel…
Gentle fingers stopped him from capturing her red tinted mouth but her body language was still open, still warm…
"Come here."
He knew that he'd get a metric ton of shit for willingly letting her lead him back into the shadows like a schoolgirl leading her sweetheart. After all, he was 6'2 and he was certain that without her heels, she was barely past 5'4…
He also knew that he didn't give a fuck.
/
…my mind is starting to burn
with forbidden thoughts
strangers all around
with the lights down low
I was thinking maybe we could...well you know…
His lips were soft and hot, tasting like scotch and pineapple slices. There was a spare bed on a box-spring just past a few rolling racks of clothes and a stack of boxes. The mattress was covered with a royal purple fitted sheet, matching cases on the pillows and there was more bedding, folded and ready for use nearby. He had sat down and she had straddled him, kissing him with an ardor that shocked her. Olivia wasn't exactly a prude but she wasn't a wild woman, either. She had never felt that pull, that fire, that 'enough talk, let's go' drive to be someone before. Her experience was limited to Edison, whose ideas of sexual intimacy were staunchly traditional…and disappointing.
With just his touch and his kisses, Fitz had her more than halfway there. Her inhibitions, her reason was just melting away and she wanted to touch him, taste him, feel him moving inside her…
I want you now
I don't wanna stop just because
you feel so good inside of my love…
"We can stop. If you want to stop, we can. I don't want you to feel…", he started seriously, even as he allowed her to pull the forest green sweater he wore over his head, revealing lightly tanned skin.
His words died in a low grunt as she placed herself firmly over his erection, grinding down between layers of clothing. Her hands stroked over his torso, impressed by his flawless definition and appreciating the springy friction of the hair. Pushing them forward, she rose up on her forearms to look down at him, to press soft kisses to his compliant mouth.
"I want you. I want you here and I want you, now. Do you want me?"
"Yes, Olivia.", he groaned softly.
"Show me, then. Show me you want me, Fitz…"
I want you all I wanna say is
Anytime,anyplace I don't care who's around
anytime,and any place I don't care who's around…
/
The party was still going on upstairs, the basement having emptied out after their retreat, which was good because he wanted to hear her. He wanted to learn what she liked, he wanted to make her come on his tongue, his fingers, his cock without inhibition, without shame.
"Inside me…inside me, Fitz…I can't…I need…oh, god…"
Panting, he removed his face from between her legs and looked at her. She was shivering from the coolness of the basement and the hotness of their sex. Her dark nipples were diamond hard and there was a lovely pink tint to her milk chocolate skin, sweat shimmering in the dim light. Her hips were questing for relief, raising and twisting erotically against his as he reached for his wallet, for the condoms he kept within…
"I…I'm on Depo and I'm clean. I want to feel you…all of you…god, I just met you and I want to feel all of you…what's wrong with me?"
"Absolutely nothing is wrong with you, Olivia. I want to feel all of you, too. I'm clean…"
"Fitz, inside me…take me…love me, baby…"
A soft cry escaped her as he slid into her and her ankles locked around him, urging him deeper, aiding his entry. Fitz groaned as her tight walls quivered and clamped around him welcomely, her hot wet warmth engulfing him. Sitting them up, she wrapped herself around him like she had just jumped into his arms and he held her flush to him, skin on skin as her fingers ran through his hair. He kissed her neck and collarbone, one of his hands sliding into her hair as her head went back.
"Oh, my God!"
"Ride me, Livvie. Make us come…"
With a small whimper, she started to move on top of him, a little clumsily at first but then with growing confidence. Her hand went to his cheek and she gasped as he cupped her hips again, aiding her and allowing him to go deeper. Their kisses were languid and messy as they agreed upon a rhythm and started adding speed. Each little gasp, moan, and yelp added more to his pleasure. She wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, to make her feel good. It wasn't a duty or a chore. Olivia opened herself to his touches and their eyes stayed on each other, half lidded and smoldering with sexual heat.
"…you feel so good…ooh, you're so hard and hot inside me…mmmm…ah!"
Groaning low in his chest, Fitz continued playing with her swollen clit and thrusting up into her hard. Each impact made her shiver on his lap and her walls flutter. Bracing her hands on his chest, she rode him fiercely, her breathing punctuated by breathless little 'ah'!s and deep moans.
Wanting to help her, needing to feel her, he dipped her his fingers against her humid heat and she ground down on him, her lips suckling on the upper part of his ear…
"Fitz…", she cooed.
"Come for me, sweetheart…let go…"
His lips muffled her cries as her body finally surrendered to its bliss, bringing him with her with a low, deep growl of satisfaction.
/
"You look like you had a nice night."
Noting and promptly ignoring the hints of petulance in Jake's tone, Olivia grabbed one of the sausage McMuffins on the tray and a small carton of OJ. She had put her panties back on and had claimed Fitz's sweater as a coverup. It was very soft and warm, infused with his scent and went to her knees. Her hair looked like she had been in a wind tunnel and her makeup was smeared from slumber and Fitz's attentions.
"More than nice, actually. Did any of my friends say where they'd be this morning?"
"No, they were busy. Do you need someone to walk you back?"
"If she does, I've got it.", a voice cut in before she could reply.
Fitz had pulled his gray striped boxers back on and she was still very appreciative of the view of his torso, especially the impressive lovebite she had left on his clavicle. There was a similar mark on hers but was distinctly shaped like his incisors. Crossing to her without a care in the world, Olivia smiled as he pressed a good morning kiss to her temple and stole a bite of her muffin.
"After all, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't make sure she got home safe?"
"Boyfriend?", Jake inquired with a significant look at her.
Olivia considered it and when she looked up into Fitz's eyes, she saw not the male arrogance she had expected but a vulnerability, a tenderness that surprised and delighted her. This wasn't just a morning after, Alpha Male asserting his dominance over a challenger thing. He really wanted to be her boyfriend.
With a resolute nod, she turned back to Jake and confirmed, "Boyfriend. Well, more like man-friend but you get the idea."
"Oh. Well, congratulations. I'll see in class, Olivia. Fitz.", Jake replied stiltedly, retreating fast.
"You have the patience of a dozen saints.", Fitz declared with disgust after the front door slammed behind him.
"I'm probably going to end up having to report him before the end of the year. Or I could just have my big, strong boyfriend beat the hell out of him for me."
"I'd be glad to."
"Maybe after the mess with your dad dies down. So, we're together?"
"As long as you want to be, Olivia. I really like you and I want to see what could happen between us."
"I want that, too. Let's go lay back down."
She yelped and buried her face in his neck giggling as he carried her upstairs to his room, regardless of the hooting and hollering of the hungover masses.
It would be all over campus by noon, Poindexter Pope and the soon to be ex-Senator Grant's son.
They would be subject to scrutiny from peers, professors, even the media yet she didn't care.
Abby was right.
Letting loose definitely had its benefits.
Song Lyric Sources:
'Big Pimpin' by Jay-Z feat. UGK (Vol. 3…Life and Times of S. Carter)
'Free' by Stevie Wonder (Characters)
'Baby Boy' by Beyonce feat. Sean Paul (Dangerously in Love)
Any Time, Any Place by Janet Jackson (janet.)