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Campus Queen E-Book

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She's Type A. He's not. But he may be exactly what she needs.

Kenzie Beechman prefers being in charge.

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Life's taught her that she's the only one she can count on and risking herself again is out of the question. When her ex-boyfriend arrives at their ten-year college reunion happily married to someone else, it's a stark reminder of how little control she's had over her love life. Could a former classmate's offer of a guilt-free fling be just the distraction she needs?

Until a man from her past offers to distract her for the weekend in more pleasurable ways...

Joel Beecham was a slacker and part-time class clown. Partnered with Kenzie on multiple school projects, he never pulled his weight. But a decade of life changes a man and Joel's ready to apologize for his mistakes and make amends...in bed. He proposes a homecoming affair with one caveat—Kenzie must submit to him in the bedroom.

With only a few days together, can casual fun turn into a forever kind of love?

CAMPUS QUEEN features a curvy girl who strives for perfection and the dirty-talking man who frees her to be herself—flaws and all. A short & steamy romance for those who've wondered What If...?

TROPES INCLUDED: Instalove, Type A Girl/Slacker Guy, Forced Proximity, Weekend Fling, Dominant in the Sheets/Beta on the Streets, Let's Make a Deal, & Curvy Heroine

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From Campus Queen

PROLOGUE

JOEL

“Last project before graduation. Get excited!” I plop down beside Kenzie in the library, tossing my backpack onto the table. For four years, we’ve been paired together for everything from science experiments to history presentations because of our last names—Beecham and Beechman. The professors must’ve found it amusing to stick Type-A Kenzie with me, a total slacker and class clown; it’s the only explanation for why we’ve been stuck together for so long despite the obvious mismatch.

“Are you actually going to contribute this time?” Kenzie’s snarky reply rolls right off me, and I shrug nonchalantly.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

She rolls her eyes with a huff and makes a show of shoving my backpack off the table while snagging the textbook underneath it. The lightweight mesh material thumps to the carpet with barely a sound—its nearly empty contents a testament to my lack of preparedness.

“Your presence isn’t as useful as you think it is unless you actually apply yourself to the work.” A worksheet slides across the wooden tabletop. “Here, this should be easy enough for you.”

Other people might find Kenzie’s snide attitude insulting, but it doesn’t bother me. I hate studying and schoolwork. Kenzie loves that shit. So, if she’s upset that I don’t pull my weight in projects, I figure it’s her right. After all, she’s still getting me a good grade.

“Yes, your majesty.” I wink and tug the question-filled sheet closer. It’s no secret that Kenzie rules a certain part of campus like a makeshift queen. She even has a king by her side to do her bidding, I muse, thinking about how her and Kyle direct campus events like a power couple straight out of the corporate world.

They need to loosen up.

Especially Kenzie.

In all the time I’ve known her, she’s never been anything but perfect and in control. Perfect grades. Perfect behavior. Well, except when it comes to me. Her guard lowers a bit to voice her frustration at my failures, and it’s the only time I see the fiery core she hides behind a sturdy wall of control.

Wonder how deep it goes…

The familiar scent of rose—Kenzie’s preferred scent—tickles my nose, and I peek over at her bent head studiously scribbling across her worksheet with neat penmanship. Is she fucking that Kyle guy? Does she show him her fiery side?

I can’t imagine she does, or else Kenzie should be way more relaxed than she is.

“Do you need help with something?”

Fuck.

She caught me staring at her… again.

“Nah, I’m good. Just thinking.” Kenzie snorts at the obvious lie but continues with her worksheet while I drag my focus away to one of the library windows looking over a pond at the edge of campus. My fascination for Kenzie has grown this year, and I don’t know why. She hasn’t changed—still a curvy little bundle of uptight rules. Yet every now and then like today, I can’t help watching her, intent on figuring her out.

A stupid endeavor, to be sure.

After graduation, we’ll go our separate ways and probably never see each other again.

What’s it matter if I can’t figure out one woman?

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