Unexpected Gifts

Hi Reader, thank you for continuing this journey with me. I recommend reading Small Gifts first, though you can read this alone but with spoilers.

I'm a very new writer, this is only my second piece, and I am still learning. So please be patient with me.

I like writing about the complexities of human experiences, which is what the Gift series focuses on. I hope you enjoy it!

You should note the main characters of this story aren't always likable; they aren't intended to be. Give them a chance - I won't do you dirty. 😊

CHAPTER 1

The wind blew like icy razors against my face causing me to pull my jacket collar to shield my neck. Winters were not my thing. So it was ironic that a sun lover like myself moved from year-round sunny beaches to the chilly north.

Still, I would have been a fool to pass up a chance to attend a university with such a high NFL draft ratio. So, instead of warm beaches, I was facing the brutal cold. It wasn't even the winter season yet.

Two years had passed since I relocated to uni, and you think I would have acclimated to the weather. However, my heart still belonged back home, even if I was no longer welcomed. That was my fault, sins I was still paying for.

"Miller bro, nice to see I'm not the only one late tonight," Collins, the first-string nickelback, said as he approached me in greeting. "Come on, let's get inside before QB gets pissy," Collins said as he opened the door to Tin Can, the local haunt for the football team.

It was a little bit off campus, but the owner was a football fanatic, so we could get away with murder here if we wanted to.

Walking through the door, the warm air soothed my chapped skin as a series of cheers erupted when patrons realized more of the team had arrived. Any member of the college football team was deemed local heroes, though none of us as much as Braxton, the first-string QB. Braxton whipped the townies into a frenzy everywhere he went. However, the rest of the a-squad and some of us second-stringers were still celebrated around town.

Playing second fiddle was still an uncomfortable feeling, and I had yet to adjust. In my hometown, I had been Braxton, the local hero everyone looked up to. I was sure I'd make first-string early in college, but reality had been humbling. Oh, I was damn good, don't get me wrong, but good wasn't enough in top league football. You had to be perfect.

The other half was luck, and my luck ran out when Braxton turned down another college to come to play at my uni. So now I just had to bide my time for Braxton to play out. I had time, being younger than him.

"Hey, guys, who are buying the shots tonight?" I asked as I saddled up to the bar with Collins at my heel.

"Kowalski is the loser tonight," Jameson slapped Kowalski on the back.

"How bad did you lose?" I snickered.

"I don't want to talk about it," Kowalski grumbled over a bottle before he tipped it and took a swig.

"Hi, Jake," an obviously dyed red-haired girl walked up to me. Amelia, Emma, some name like that I don't remember. I'd only seen her in passing a few times. She blinked her doe eyes at me with a smile painted in red. Ball prowlers out looking to catch some D, and apparently, I was being reeled in. I snickered as I watched her try to be flirty. These ball bunnies never knew what they were asking for with me.

"What's up," I said coolly, not needing to try.

"Um, I was hoping maybe I could buy you a shot tonight. To celebrate and stuff," the redhead said silkily as she leaned towards me.

I shrugged as I leaned toward the bar and grabbed a bottle the bartender had placed when I walked up. I took a sip while looking down at the short little thing, well, short to me anyway. I didn't bother to hide my condescension.

Now, you would think if a guy my size towered over you with a fuck-off look, a girl would scamper away. They never did. Something about showing disinterest in ball bunnies just set the hook. Suppose their egos never could handle a no. I didn't care what went on their head just as long as that head bobbed on my cock.

"Nah, I'm set with my boys here," I shook Kowalski's shoulder in comradery.

"I'll let you buy me a drink, Red," Kowalski said with a smile as he looked her up and down, causing her to roll her eyes. Sadly for him, Kowalski was a third-string freshman, too low on the social pole to be on the ball bunny's radar. Poor kid was really having a shit night.

"Well, if you change your mind, I'm hanging out at that table," she and pointed to her friends. "I'm good, Lucy. Enjoy your night," I said, intentionally using the wrong name. I barely contained my laugh when she frowned.

"I'm Emma. Remember, we spoke at Jason's party last week," she corrected. I nodded without care and turned back to my boys, dismissing her. The faces of my teammates told me the girl had walked off pissed.

"Daaaammn, if looks could kill, you'd have five daggers in your back right now," Collins drawled in his Texas accent.

"That's alright. I'll let Red take her frustrations out on my cock later," I said with a wink making the fellas chuckle. "So, what's the plan tonight?" I changed the subject.

"Just hanging out now. You missed the big speech, you late asses," Jameson said, ribbing Collins and me.

"Yeah, I got hung up trying to get a paper done. I'm going to have to get help or something. This creative writing shit is not my strength. Getting laid and math - boss mode. Writing - kill me now," I complained.

"I just needed to take a shit and took my time," Collins said unapologetically, careless that his bowel movements were wholly irrelevant and unnecessary information.

"You need to get your bowels checked, man. I swear you poop more than anyone I've ever met," Jameson complained.

"It's the Mexi-Tex; it goes right through me," Collins made his Texas drawl over pronounced as he patted his belly.

"Miller man, checkout Ava Williams for your paper," Kowalski interrupted. "She's Mrs. Cristo's assistant, but she moonlights as a writing tutor Tuesdays and Thursdays in the library. Sometimes if you're lucky, you can catch her on Sundays." I tipped my beer to him in thanks and noted the name in my brain for later.

"Miller, Jameson, get your asses over here! We're doing pong battles! I need you on our team!" Christen hollered across the bar with his deep booming voice. A rock concert couldn't drown him out.

"Well, guys, duty calls," I said as I nodded for Jameson to follow me to the pong tables.

After a vicious battle for over an hour, the last ball was served and lost, giving the other team the victory. Jameson and I were a nearly unbeatable duo at pong, but tonight was our fated night to lose.

After congratulating the other team, I spotted Celeste on a stool watching us. Walking over to her, I gave her a quick side hug. "Hey, chica, enjoying the show?"

She snickered. "What show? You lost. You're getting rusty on me, old man!" she teased.

"You wound me, woman!" I grabbed my heart dramatically as I sat next to her.

"You have to have the heart to wound first," Celeste snickered with a sarcastic smirk.

"Truth," I agreed as I signaled for the bartender to bring me another beer.

Celeste, a gorgeous Asian I'd befriended freshman year, was one of my best friends. Celeste was that glamourous beauty that made you believe she could be a goddess. Her angelic face disguised the absolute wild cat lurking beneath, and it was hard to not be drawn to her. Unfortunately, she also happened to be incredibly gay. I know; I'd tried.

We got to know each other over our first quarter on campus as we luckily shared a few classes. I was surprised how well I got on with Celeste. While she would never be my bedmate, she made an awesome classmate, and we started hanging out after class.

"Who is the redhead chick?" she asked with a frown after something behind me caught her attention. I turned to see Emily, or Emma, whoever the girl from earlier was, staring us down from her table.

"Red is staring me down like she could kill me right now," Celeste laughed as her hand moved against my arm, putting on a show to get under the girl's skin.

Celeste wasn't the type of woman you'd want to fuck around with. She took no shit and gave it plenty.

"I'd give you about ten more minutes, and she's going to come over here and try to steal you," she smiled wickedly. Celeste had no qualms helping me score or burning other girls. I'd returned the favor more than a few times in return.

"So, are you going to finish our lab paper or what?" she stared at me with fake doe eyes, laying it on thick for our watcher.

"Nah, you're the brains of this operation. I'm just the eye candy," I told her as I lifted the bottle to my lips.

"Like hell! You are not saddling me with that shit!" she backhanded my chest hard, making my skin sting as I choked on my beer.

"Ow, fuck woman," I chuckled as I rubbed my stinging peck. "Fine. I'll get it done," I relented.

"Good boy," she mocked me with a purr.

Shifting off my stool, I stood and stretched. "Gotta piss, be right back," I told her. Weaving my way through the thinned crowd, I headed towards the back bathrooms. A good thing about late nights was no waiting for the can.

I was standing over the urinal pissing when I heard the door open. Peaking to see who entered, I saw flaming red hair walking in my direction. Here we go, I thought.

"Thought I might catch you in here," the redhead purred with glassy eyes, tipsy from a night of drinking.

"What, you came in here to watch me piss?" I admonished, making her frown as she tried to process what I'd said in her hazy state. While she considered, I shook dry, tucked, and zipped.

"Oh, I came to do more than that," she recovered as she closed the distance and tried to pull me down for a kiss, her breath reeking of alcohol. I was buzzed but not drunk enough for that shit. Dodging at the last second, I turned my back against the wall and let her stumble forward a little.

"Oh, come on now, I've seen you looking at me. I know you want this," Red juggled her massive tits to be enticing but came out a bit desperate. Already getting bored with this scene, one of the hundreds I've had before with many women, I stared her down.

"You want this that bad, huh?" I said, not bothering to hide my boredom. She paused for a moment, then nodded. "You sure about that, Red? Cause once we start, we're not stopping," I warned her. Her eyes sparkled lustily as she licked her red lips.

"I don't want you to stop," she said, and it was everything to not roll my eyes. They always said that, and it was never true. Annoyance pumping in my blood, I jerked my fly back down, popped the button, and fished out my still soft cock.

Red's eyes went wide, and she hesitated when she saw my size. I had a bit of a reputation for my monster cock. All the girls wanted to climb it like Mount Everest, the untamable cock, yet they always failed.

Still, with every new girl I was with, I held out hope I might find someone who could finally truly take me. It was a dream. What they never tell you about being my size is the frustration of having to be satisfied with half penetration nearly all the time.

"Well?" I moved my hand like I was serving my cock to her on a platter. She slowly closed the distance and slunk to her knees in front of me. Her hand wrapped around my semi-soft length. The bravado she'd had was slipping away as my cock took up her entire hand, and I wasn't even at full mast yet.

Sticking out her tongue, she licked my tip before running her mouth along me in sucking kisses. Her eyes looked up at me, but I kept my eyes on her mouth as my member thickened under her attention.

Soon she moved back to my tip to take me in, and I held my breath in anticipation. Then, slowly, she started bobbing and ebbing her way down my length. Working for a few moments, she made it halfway down before she gagged pitifully and backed off.

Disappointment had me. I know it was stupid, but I always felt such a crushing disappointment when they couldn't take me. Girls always talked such a good game about how they could please me, and every time it was half-ass blow jobs, or I was too big to fit. I wondered if I'd ever find another woman who could fully take me.

There had only been one woman who ever could, and she damned near ruined my life. Yet, part of me still loved her, still dreamed of her, and the other part of me hated her. If she'd just left me alone like I told her, I would still have a home to return to.

But no, she just had to force my cock in her mouth and take me all the way to my base. With a mouth like that, she had me wrapped around my finger. And the girl could ride. God, she could ride.

Anyone would understand why a man like me would let a girl like her become my obsession. Even if it meant it drove me to the brink of destruction.

I moaned in pleasure, more from my memories than the girl currently working my length. Fisting her hair in a hand, I started pumping in and out of her mouth, needing more friction than I was getting. The move made her gag, but I didn't relent. I wasn't going to make her throw up. I wasn't that big of a douche, but she'd asked for this, and now I was going to get mine.

Mascara started running from watery eyes, but she never pulled away or stopped. She wanted to prove she could get me off, so I let her as I rode her mouth. Instead of brown eyes, I imagined crystal green orbs looking back at me, and instead of red hair, it was straight raven locks.

My K, the woman that still haunts me even after two years, looked back at me in my mind. I remembered how it felt when she took me all the way and felt my balls tighten.

Pulling out of the woman's mouth, I grabbed my cock to jerk myself to completion, letting cum spray across her chin and tits. "Ugh, really!" she complained. Then, leaning back, she tried to wipe herself clean with her hand as she stood up.

"Thanks, Red. A for effort," I told her humorously as I patted her head. She didn't laugh. With that, I tucked, zipped, and headed for the door.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You get head, and you're just going to leave me here like this?" she complained, face turning a shade like her hair. Shrugging, I turned my back to her and walked out. There was nothing left to say.

Walking back to the stool where Celeste sat, I threw some dollars down for her drinks tonight. My beer was covered by the bar owner, a gift after every win the team scored, even for us second strings, and Kowalski covered my shots.

"I'm out for the night," I told her, pulling her into a side hug as she sat on the bar stool.

"Ewww, you smell like drunk spit. Guess Red found you after all, huh?" Celeste said, pulling away from my hug with disgust on her face. With a wink, I said nothing more. "You're such a typical jock, Jake," she chuckled.

Sobering at her words, my blood cooled. I hated being the way I was sometimes; I don't even know why I was this way. I hated when these bunnies tried coming at me like this and lost my patience.

Jake Miller, the hot football player, and another notch on the bedpost to get one over on all the other girls. I was just someone to be used, so I used them first. It would be more tolerable if sex with them wasn't as frustrating as it is half the time.

Anger would flare in me every time they'd brag about their sexual talents to seduce me, and I would feel some need to teach them a lesson for their annoying shit.

Round and round, it was a bad fucking habit I couldn't seem to break. I was a broken man from a broken-ass family, and these women were too stupid to know better. But, of course, all the girls knew I was a class A asshole, so why they still swarmed me was a fucking mystery.

Clearing my throat, I swallowed the regret that always came after the fact. Cold I was, but I wasn't heartless. I patted Celeste's back as I moved to leave.

"I'll get the reports done tomorrow and email them to you. You need me to walk you out?" I offered as I pulled my coat on. I didn't like her walking to her car by herself at night.

"Yeah, sure, let's go," she agreed as she grabbed her coat. I led Celeste towards the door just as Red turned the corner and threw a drink in my face.

"You are an asshole," Red spewed as I rubbed my eyes to blink the burning alcohol out.

"Don't blame me when you can't handle what you ask for," I growled as I brushed the splashed drink off my coat. "What the fuck did you think was going to happen? You'd blow me in the bathroom, and I'd suddenly ask you to be my girlfriend. Fuck off, skank," I pushed past Red to the door and held it open for Celeste. Celeste tutted her teeth and gave Red the 'how stupid can you be' look before following me into the icy wind.

CHAPTER 2

Fingers flying over the keyboard only to stab the backspace in anger, I stared at the screen with bloodshot eyes. Rubbing my hands over my face, I wiped some of the fatigue and frustration. Three hours had passed, and barely a handful of paragraphs had been produced from the effort, and those were complete shit.

"Gods, I really suck at this," I grumbled to my empty bedroom at the frat house. The frat house was a blessing and a curse. Never a moment of privacy, but affordable for a broke ass like me.

After getting the ole "you're no son of mine, don't come back" speech from the dickhead called Dad, the life of wealth and luxury was over. The whole family had disowned me, and now I was entirely on my own. Don't think this is one of that poor innocent boy and his mean family tropes. I'd earned my lashings.

Luckily for me, grandpappy had left me a sizable fund for college that my dad couldn't touch. While it had regulations around what I could draw on the account for and when it covered quite a few of my expenses.

If I was smart and kept spending to a minimum, the fund would cover most of my living expenses through college. Thus the noisy, crowded frat house arrangement. At least I'd managed to grab the only single bedroom, even if it was basically a closet.

As long as I kept my football scholarship, I could live life comfortably and get an education. Which is why I was spending Sunday staring at a damn computer screen instead of enjoying the only warm day we'd had this fall.

If I didn't get this paper done with at least a B+ grade, my class average would slip, and my scholarship would be in jeopardy. You'd think the school would be more lenient since it was a sports scholarship. However, this school was tough on its academic scores; no easy passes.

A ding rang through my sparse room, letting me know I had a text message. Assuming it was from one of the boys, nothing had prepared me for what awaited me when I unlocked my phone.

K: 'Seriously, you didn't even wish me a happy birthday? You could have at least texted!'

Blowing a sigh, I rubbed my hand over my face and put my phone down. Two fucking years and that woman still haunts me.

Of course, I knew her birthday was yesterday. I could have texted, but that way lay madness, and I knew better than to open that can of worms. I was still trying to move on from K and her drama. A few more dings come through, and I set my phone to vibrate.

With that, my focus went out the window, and I gave up on my paper for the moment. Closing the word document, I pulled up the browser to scroll mindlessly through social media. Social media wasn't my thing, I rarely got on, but it was nice to catch up on old friends every once in a while.

After a few minutes of snooping and a few comments here and there, my finger stopped on the scroll wheel when Vera's smiling face showed up on one of my friend's feeds.

Vera and I were definitely not friends in any capacity, as she'd blocked me back in high school, but she was still friends with some of mine. The photo was of Elle Turner, my long childhood friend, and Vera at an ice cream parlor with Kai, Vera's fiancé, photobombing the background. They looked so happy. Stomach twisting in regret, I clicked open Elle's post to look through the photos she'd posted of their outing.