Naughty Angel (Sexy Nerd Boys #2)



What does a tattooed lothario do with a naive virgin? Teach her everything he knows, of course



              When most people first set eyes on me they assume I’m a delinquent, a thug, or at the very least that I’m in a band. But, looks can be deceiving. I never thought I’d get sick of random hook ups with more than willing college co-eds, but that scene is getting old. And, I
never expected to fall for an adorable, sexy, shy…virgin. But, sometimes things don’t turn out how you expect.



              Super virgin…that’s me. I’ve never kissed a boy, heck I’ve never even been on a date before. How I ended up catching the eye of a sexy, tattooed playboy at my very first college party I’ll never know. He’s way out of my league…but maybe it’s finally my chance to let loose a little and find out who I really am. That’s what college is for, right?






Naughty Angel

(Sexy Nerd Boys, 2)

by K.M.Neuhold




Naughty Angel (Sexy Nerd Boys, 2)© 2016 by K.M.Neuhold


All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.


This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


Book and Cover design by SP designs

Cover Image by DW Art



For information contact: [email protected]






Chapter 1


              Fish out of water.
I remember once when I was about five or so my daddy took me fishing. I have a distinct recollection of this dumb fish that leaped out of the water and landed right in our little wooden canoe. It flopped around desperately and at first I thought it was funny. But, it only took a moment before I realized the fish was dying and my giggles turned to sobs. That about sums up how I feel right now; flopping around, gasping for air, imminent death. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

In reality I’m just standing awkwardly off to the side next to the stairs in a frat house wishing I knew where my roommate Hadley was so I could tell her I’m going to go back to our dorm. Not that she would probably notice if I left. But, it seemed rude to do so without letting her know. Then again, it’s not like I’m the expert on party etiquette, this is my first one after all. I wonder if I’m the only pathetic 18 year old here who’s never been to a party. I have to be the only one who’s never kissed a boy. Ha, even that’s generous. I’ve never been on a date with a boy, never been alone in a room with a boy, never even held hands. But, that's part of the reason I worked up the courage to flee from my parents protective bubble to come to college. I want to be normal.

Hadley promised this would be fun and then immediately disappeared with the first guy who offered to get her a drink. I don’t begrudge her a little fun. But, as the crowd rages around me, leaving little oxygen in the room, I need to leave before I pass out.

My eye catches on a guy standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning against the ping pong table that’s being used for some sort of drinking game. It’s hard to say what truly caught my eye first because he is a sight to behold. His left arm is covered in a breathtaking tattoo that appears to be the galaxy. It’s a stunning deep blue background with swirls of lighter blues and purples, stars and planets are inked in with vibrant colors.

I want to touch it.

My eyes travel upwards over his muscled chest straining against his tight, gray t-shirt and settle on his face. His hair is a chestnut brown and rather long, to his chin at least, and partially hidden under a gray beanie. His eyes are deep blue and sparkle as he talks. And, his mouth, oh his mouth, I think I could stare at his mouth all day. His lips are full and inviting, and in the middle of his lower lip is a silver ring. I imagine what it would be like to kiss him. what does one do with a lip ring when they kiss someone?

One of the beauties hanging off of him gets up on her tip toes to whisper in his ear. His gaze meets mine from across the room and he winks at me. I feel my face go hot and I’m sure I’m as red as a tomato. Wow, Eve, way to make a good first impression, ogling a strange man at a party.

I spin around quickly to escape his gaze, mortified that I was caught staring at him. I hadn’t realized how close I’m standing to the steps and I crack my head on the banister with a loud thud. A few chuckles erupt around me and I officially want to die.

Has there ever been anyone more socially awkward than me in the entire universe? I mean, seriously though.



              Brittany or Brandi or whatever-her-name-is presses her tits against me and I tilt my head down to hear what she’s trying to say.

              “We should get out of here,” she whispers into my ear.

I sigh inwardly. I know most guys would give their left nut to be in my position with beautiful women hanging all over them, asking them to take them home to fuck. Hell, if you would’ve told me last year that I would be reluctant to take a hot piece of ass wherever she wants to go I’d have told you that you were insane. But, truth be told, I’m bored as hell with this whole thing. Maybe I just want something a little deeper than meaningless sex.

As I lift my head, still considering my answer, my eye catches on a girl by the stairs. I say
because she almost looks too young to be at a college party, certainly too innocent. She’s tiny, I could probably fit her right in my pocket. She’s wearing somewhat baggy clothes that make her look even smaller. Her hair is long, wavy, and dirty blond in color.

My gaze travels up to her face and I take in her delicate features. Her nose is slightly upturned, and her upper lip is a little too big compared to her bottom lip, but somehow her features work perfectly together. When I reach her light brown eyes I realize she’s staring at me. Not only is she staring at me, she looks like she likes what she sees. I catch her eye and wink at her playfully. She suddenly blushes tomato red and turns to flee.

              As she whips around quickly she cracks her head against the railing of the stairs. Before I can talk myself out of it I disentangle myself from whatever her name is and rush over check on awkward girl.

              When I reach her she’s rubbing her head and still has deep red coloring her cheeks. She’s even more attractive up close. But, right now she looks like she’s going to cry.

              “Are you alright?” I ask her nervously.

Please don’t cry, I never know what to do when girls cry.

She nods wordlessly and avoids looking at me. After several seconds and a few deep breaths she squares her shoulders, meets my gaze and makes a move to step around me. I shift to block her exit.

              “Excuse me,” She says almost too quietly to carry over the noise of the party.

              “Are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you cracked your head pretty hard,” I ask again.

She takes another deep breath and nods again, biting her bottom lip.

              “Excuse me please. I’m just trying to leave,” Her voice is still quiet.

People tend to think I’m a bit of a badass when they see my tattoos and piercings. What most people don’t know about me is that I have a crazy soft spot for the needy. When I was a kid I was constantly rescuing baby bunnies and getting in trouble at school for standing up to bullies for kids who were getting picked on. So, when I see her misty eyes and hear her sad, desperate voice all I want to do is make sure she gets home safe

              “Let me walk you, it’s not safe for a pretty girl to be out alone at night,” I offer.

Her eyes go wide either due to my offer or the revelation that someone might want to hurt her out on the streets I don’t know. She nods in agreement and we both make our way to the exit.



              “Where do you live?” I ask casually.

I see her tense slightly at my question. Does she think I’m trying to stalk her? Obviously I’m going to know where she lives once we get there anyway. This thought seems to occur to her too because after a moment she answers me.

              “I live in Randall Hall.”

Her voice isn’t what I expected at all based on her appearance. She’s such a little thing and had been so quiet back at the frat house I expected more of a Minnie Mouse voice. But, honestly the only way to describe her voice is...sultry. Unlike most women, it’s obvious she isn’t doing it on purpose to come across as sexy. In fact, I’d be willing to bet money she has no idea how alluring she is.

              “So you’re a freshman?”

She nods. I wait for her to ask what year I am but the silence stretches out between us.

              “I’m a junior,” I say trying to break up the awkward pause. I wait for her to respond and when she doesn’t I simply continue talking. “I’m an astrophysics major, hence the galaxy tattoo on my arm. I’ve always been obsessed with the universe. And, math is kind of my thing.”

I usually don’t tell girls about my major, so I’m not sure why I told her. But, for some reason it just seemed like it would be nice to tell her something real about myself.

Her nose scrunches in the cutest fucking way and she looks at me with surprise.

is your thing?”

I laugh out loud. I’m definitely used to that reaction from people when they find out how much of a math nerd I am.

“Yeah. A good buddy of mine got his masters in philosophy and he told me about this theory Socrates had about math that really resonates with me. Socrates said there were three types of ‘things’, for lack of a better word. There are physical things, spiritual things, and forms. Math falls into the category of forms, which means it’s its own entity. If every person on the planet dropped dead tomorrow two plus two would still equal four. That’s really comforting to me I guess.”

“Wow,” She murmurs before falling to silence.

              “This is the part in normal social interaction where you tell me about your major,” I inform her teasingly.

She squirms uncomfortably.
Shit, now I feel like an ass.

              “Sorry, I’m so...awkward,” Her tone is so sad, resigned I have the urge to pull her close and make her feel better.

Whoa there tiger, take a chill or you’re going to make this girl go screaming into the night.

“Nah, you’re cute,” I assure her.

She lets out a self deprecating laugh.

“I’m not sure about my major,” She says. “I just want to learn about all the things I don’t know about the world.”

              “That is refreshingly profound.”

              “Um, this is my building,” She says stopping in front of the large brick building.

I don’t want to let her go yet. I want to get to know more about her. I don’t even know her name. I open my mouth to ask and realize that she’s staring at my lips. Does she want me to kiss her?

              “I never did get your name,” I say.

She continues to stare at my lips and doesn’t respond to my statement. Hell, I’m going to go for it. I start to lean forward and suddenly she startles like a cat having a bucket of water thrown on it. She jumps back and whips around to swipe her I.D. card in the door to gain access.

              “Thanks for walking me, see you later,” She says hurriedly without turning back around.

              “Wait I didn’t even get your name,” I call out. But, she’s already inside, taking the stairs two at a time.

Well, at least I know which building she lives in so it shouldn’t be too hard to find her. Ah, but now I
sound like a stalker. I take a deep breath and turn to head home.


              “Do my eyes deceive me? Asher Wright, home before midnight...alone?” My roommate gasps in mock horror as I flop down on the couch and grab the PS4 controller from him to finish off the boss who’s about to kick his ass.

              “Shut up, Dex,” I mutter.

Dex is a good guy, and I would never admit it to him, but he might just be starting to rub off on me. Nothing makes womanizing look worse than a guy who’s working his ass off to support a kid. Dex got a girl knocked up in high school and instead of giving his daughter up for adoption he turned down a scholarship to MIT to come to this shitty little college, not far from where his mom and baby girl are currently living. He’s a stand up guy. We met last year in physics club, because we’re both nerds.

“Touchy subject?” He asks with humor.

I give him the finger before tossing the controller back at him and getting up to go to bed, with visions of that cute, nameless girl dancing in my head.

 Dex puts an arm out to stop me before I get past him.

“Listen, I’m about ready to start my doctoral work and I’ll need a few undergrads to help with the workload. If you’re interested I’d love to get your help.” Dex just started his doctoral work in theoretical physics.

“That’d be great,” I say honestly.

He nods and lets me past.



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