Excerpt The Mistake by Elle Kennedy

Jul 052019

The Mistake (Off-Campus Book 2)
by Elle Kennedy
New York Times bestseller Elle Kennedy brings you a sexy new Off-Campus novel that can be read as a standalone…

He’s a player in more ways than one…

College junior John Logan can get any girl he wants. For this hockey star, life is a parade of parties and hook-ups, but behind his killer grins and easygoing charm, he hides growing despair about the dead-end road he’ll be forced to walk after graduation. A sexy encounter with freshman Grace Ivers is just the distraction he needs, but when a thoughtless mistake pushes her away, Logan plans to spend his final year proving to her that he’s worth a second chance.

Now he’s going to need to up his game…

After a less than stellar freshman year, Grace is back at Briar University, older, wiser, and so over the arrogant hockey player she nearly handed her V-card to. She’s not a charity case, and she’s not the quiet butterfly she was when they first hooked up. If Logan expects her to roll over and beg like all his other puck bunnies, he can think again. He wants her back? He’ll have to work for it. This time around, she’ll be the one in the driver’s seat…and she plans on driving him wild.

Excerpt The Mistake by Elle Kennedy

Logan just being Logan
The bell over the door dings loudly, and my head involuntarily swivels toward it, then immediately swivels back. I hunch over, hoping my hair will shield my face from view of the newcomers.
The newcomers being Logan and four of his friends.
Maybe he won’t notice me. Maybe I can sneak out before he does.
I don’t want to draw any attention to myself, so I don’t get up right away. Logan and his buddies approach the order counter, and every gaze in the coffee house hangs on their every move. Something about these guys changes the air in the room on a molecular level. They’re larger than life, and not just because they’re all tall, strapping hockey players. It’s the confidence with which they walk, the good-natured insults they toss back and forth, the easy grins they flash to people.
I know I should be skulking off, but I can’t look away. It’s almost criminal how attractive he is. Granted, I’m only looking at the back of his head, but it’s a very sexy back of the head. And it’s so easy to pick him out as an athlete. The long limbs and toned muscles beneath his cargo pants and snug T-shirt create a drool-worthy package that my fingers itch to unwrap.
Argh. I need to drag my head out of the gutter. Lusting over him is too close to liking him, and I’m not ready to open that door yet. If ever.
But common sense comes too late, because Logan is now moving away from the counter and marching in my direction.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He slides in the seat across from me and places a chocolate-chip muffin on the table. “I got you a muffin.”
Damn it, I guess he’d noticed me right when he’d walked in.
“Why?” I ask in suspicion, and without saying hi.
“’Cause I wanted to get you something, and you already have coffee. Ergo, muffin.”
I raise one eyebrow. “Are you trying to buy your way into my good graces?”
“Yup. And excellent pun, by the way.”
“I wasn’t punning. My name just happens to be a homonym.”
His blue eyes gleam as he downright smolders at me. “I love it when you talk homonyms to me.”
“Uh-huh.” I choke back a laugh. “I appreciate the gesture, but do you really think a muffin is going to wow me?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you an entire meal when we’re out on our date.” He winks. “Anything you want off the menu.”
Damn him and his seductive winking powers.
“Speaking of that, when should we do it?”
I eye him warily. “Do what?”

“Go out.” His head tilts in a thoughtful pose. “I’m free tonight. Or any night, really. My schedule is wide open.”
God, this guy is incorrigible. And too damn gorgeous for his own good. His chiseled jaw is covered with scruff, as if he hasn’t shaved in a few days, and my tongue tingles with the urge to lick a path along the strong line of his chin. This is the first time I’ve ever wanted to lick a guy’s stubble. What is the matter with me?
“Congrats on your wide-open schedule,” I grumble. “But I’m not going out with you.”
Logan grins. “Tonight, or in general?”
We’re interrupted by the arrival of one of his friends. “Ready?” the guy asks Logan as he flips the top of his coffee cup.
“Go away, G. I’m wooing.”
His friend snickers, then turns to me. “Hey, I’m Garrett.”
Right. As if I don’t know who he is. Garrett Graham is a legend at this school, for fuck’s sake. He’s also incredibly good-looking, the kind of good-looking that brings a blush to my cheeks despite the fact I’m not even interested in the guy.
“I’m Grace,” I answer politely.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He edges away, a barely restrained smile on his lips. “I’ll wait outside so my boy can keep, ah, wooing.”
“No need. We’re all done here.” I scrape my chair back and hop to my feet.
“We most certainly are not,” Logan mutters.
Amused, Garrett glances from me to Logan. “I took a mandatory conflict resolution seminar back in high school. Do you guys need a mediator?”
I pick up my coffee. “Well, the stenographer who follows me around is on a lunch break, but I can catch you up no problem. Logan asked me out, and I solved the conflict by respectfully declining. There. I did all the work for you.”
Garrett laughs loud enough to attract the attention of everyone around us, including the three hockey players who wander over from the counter.
“What’s so funny?” Dean asks curiously. He notices me and offers a delighted smile. “Grace. Long time. I’m loving the hair.”
I’m surprised he even remembers my name. “Thanks.” I inch closer to the door. “I’ve gotta go. See you around, Logan. And, uh, you too, Logan’s friends.”
I’m halfway out the door when I hear him call, “You forgot your muffin.”
“No, I didn’t,” I answer without turning around.

Male laughter tickles my spine as the door closes behind me.


Kissing Logan is the single most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. Forget that family vacation to Egypt when I was nine. The glory of the pyramids and temples and the frickin’ Sphinx is nothing compared to the feel of this guy’s lips on mine.

Our tongues meet, and he makes another low, husky sound, gliding one hand up my body to cup my left breast. Oh shit. Boob groping alert. I thought we were just going to make out, but now we’re fooling around.

I’m not wearing a bra under my tank top, so when his thumb brushes the very thin fabric and presses down on my nipple, it sends a bolt of heat from the tips of my breasts right down to my clit. My entire body is hot and achy, tight with excitement. Logan’s tongue explores my mouth as he rubs my distended nipple, his hips moving slightly against my hip. His erection is like a hot brand on the side of my thigh, and I’m unbelievably turned on by the knowledge that I’m turning him on.

Breathing heavily, he wrenches our mouths apart. “Should I be worried that your roommate is going to walk in on us?”

“No, she’s not coming home tonight. She went to some bar in town, and then she’s planning on crashing with this girl Caitlin from Kappa Beta. Which I think is a really bad idea because the last time she went out with Caitlin, they almost got arrested for public drunkenness, but then Ramona flirted with the cop and—”

Logan shuts me up with another kiss. “No would have sufficed,” he murmurs against my lips. Then he reaches for my hand and places it directly on the hard bulge in his pants. In the same breath, he cups my sex over my PJs.

Oh crap. Downstairs action alert.

I’m not worried about my response to his hand—one slow glide of his palm is all it takes for a burst of pleasure to erupt inside me. Nope, it’s my hand that triggers the rush of nervousness. The hand that’s currently stroking the erection straining behind Logan’s zipper.

I’ve given handjobs before, plus a few blowjobs that I know were a huge success because…well, semen and all that. But I don’t have enough experience to consider myself an expert penis-wrangler or anything. And all those past penis encounters involved one guy, my high school boyfriend Brandon, who was equally inexperienced.

If the rumors I’ve heard about Logan are true, then this guy has slept with half the girls at Briar. Sounds like an insanely high statistic, so I’m sure it’s not accurate, but he’s definitely hooked up with more people than I have.

“Is this okay?” he asks as he strokes between my legs.

I nod and stroke him again, and a tortured moan slips out of his mouth.

“F*ck, hold on.” He shifts on the mattress, and my heart stops when he unzips his pants. He eases them down just low enough to free his erection from his boxers, then tugs on the waistbands of my PJs and underwear.

A second later, his hand grazes my bare sex, and my hips lift involuntarily, seeking closer contact.

Logan teases the tip of his index finger over my clit. “Better?” he says, his voice thick and raspy.

So much better. And so good it makes my head spin, limiting my response to a breathy mumble of nonsense.



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