Her eyes meet mine, and this time there’s not a hint of confusion or embarrassment or shyness. Warmth heats my blood. “Why’d you come to practice tonight?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you. I keep tasting you on my tongue. I keep feeling you under my hands. I look at you next to me on the sofa when we’re watching TV and I can barely keep myself from attacking you.”
“Do you think I’m a pushover?” she asks unexpectedly.
“Hell no.” I huff a small laugh. The woman has a steel-trap memory and doesn’t mind throwing things back in my face. Does she really think she’s a pushover? She’s so far from it, I’m surprised the word is even in her vocabulary. “Or you’d be at Ace’s place talking him into the switch.”
“Right.” She sounds surprised at herself. “I did say no, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“Don’t bring up the Ace thing again,” she tells me. “Or I can’t do this between us.”
“I swear it.” I make an X across my chest.
“Then come upstairs.”
I nearly fall to my knees in relief. Then I take my own risk because I want to wrap myself around her all night. “How about my place? Your bed can’t fit the two of us. I’d like you to spend the night.”
It’s a risk that pays off because she says yes.
We talk about nothing on the walk to my house. The weather. I think it’s unseasonably warm. She’s wrapped up in her sleeping bag she swears is a coat. Underneath our meaningless chatter, the tension is ratcheting up.
I’m hard from the casual brush of her arm against mine. I start breathing heavily when she combs her fingers through her hair. I clench my fingers inside my pockets so I don’t drag her into the nearest corner and do her right there.
“Want something to eat? Drink? Your BGs okay?” I ask when we get to the house.
“I’m good. You hungry? Feeling faint?” she says with a slight tone of mockery.
Okay, I get it. Leave her diabetes alone. But I can’t help it. I care for this girl. I worry, but I’ll try to keep my concern to myself.
“I’m hungry all right. Ravenous even.” I know what I want to be eating and it’s not in the kitchen.
“Me, too.”
I close my eyes and thank God. Lucy gives a small laugh, and at that happy sound, I kind of lose it. I haul her into my arms and run up to my bedroom. Good thing no one comes out of their rooms, because I would have mowed them down.
Once inside my room, I let her feet drop to the floor, but I don’t let her go. We tackle our own clothes, too anxious to be skin to skin. Her coat falls to the ground. I whip my T-shirt over my head. She tugs her jeans down; I tear at my own pants. In between garments, we grab each other for a hungry kiss until finally, nothing’s between us. It’s just her smooth, perfect skin against my hard, rough body.
“Christ, I need you.” I nip at her mouth, kiss her cheek, lick the delicate shell of her ear all the while palming every curve I can get my hands on—her shoulders, her tits, her round, delicious ass. That ass.
I spin her around and drop to my knees. “Bend over.” The command comes out harsher than I intend, but Luce doesn’t hesitate. She turns and bends at the waist, resting her arms on the surface of my desk.
“Tell me your favorite part of what we’ve done so far. Is it the fucking? Or do you like it when I’m going down on you?”
She moans a little, half in embarrassment, half in desire. “Why do you have to talk so much?”
I smile to myself and rub both hands over the plump cheeks, holding them up so I can sink my teeth into one and then the other. This time the sound she makes is definitely a lusty one.
“Because I like it, and I think you do, too. Let me tell you how this is going to work. I’m going to eat you out, then I’m going to slap on a rubber and fuck you until you’re coming so hard you can’t stand up. You let me know if there’s any part of this plan you don’t like.”
She mumbles something and squirms a small amount but doesn’t utter one word of disagreement. I spread her legs farther apart and dive in because I wasn’t lying when I told her I was ravenous. For days now, I’ve been thinking about having this pussy against my mouth again.
She squeaks in surprise and then rises slightly on her tiptoes, as if trying to escape. I clamp an arm around her waist and hold her tight against my onslaught. She trembles like a leaf in an autumn storm, held in place by my arm and tongue.
My cock is hard as a spike, angry at being left out of the party, but the rest of me is enjoying eating her out too much to stop. There’s something addicting about her. Above me, Luce is making a dozen different moans and gasps, pleas to God and for me to stop, no don’t stop, there, right there, Right. There.
I slip my hand around to the front so I can get a thumb on her sensitive clit, making her stiffen and then lose control over her limbs. I catch her before she falls, surging forward to drive into her in one swift, demanding gesture.
The throb of her orgasm feels wild against my dick, her honey coating every inch of my shaft. The soft grip of her pussy is otherworldly. I’d give up everything for this, for her. Football, fame, glory, money. None of it can compare.
Her head falls back, those long, beautiful strands of blond hair sticking to the side of her face, falling over my shoulder. I grip her jaw until we’re kissing. The angle’s awkward, my legs are shaky as fuck, but I want this joining, too.