by JB Salsbury
He hits the stairs, taking two at a time as if I weigh nothing.
“You know, I can walk.”
He clears the last step and soon we’re in his room where he tosses me onto the bed. I feel the rumble of a giggle fighting it’s way out of my throat but I swallow it back. stunned I’m even capable of such a response.
Theodore towers over me with nothing but his wet boxer briefs clinging to his narrow hips and thick hard-on. His eyes are a dark promise of pleasure with a glint of danger. He grabs my ankle and pulls it with enough force that I fall to my back. He plants my feet far apart, as far as my hips will allow, then with a knee on the bed crawls over me.
“I thought you didn’t want to touch me because of my dad.”
The question makes him recoil. “Your dirty talk could use some work, Kitten.”
“So that’s it, huh? We’ll be each other’s indecent little secret?”
“It’s sex. It’s no one else’s business, unless you usually share who you’re fucking with your pops?”
Something in my chest deflates, but I don’t care enough to explore what or why. “Alright, so we keep our torrid affair to ourselves.”
“Great. Now, about the choking and the bruises you mentioned earlier.” He licks his lips as if the mere mention makes his mouth water.
I push up on my elbows, kiss him hard and bite his lip. “Do your worst.”
Spider
I lick at the broken skin on my bottom lip where Emery bit me and smile as a wave of lust washes over me. This woman is too good to be true.
I never imaged the type of woman I would end up with because I couldn’t fathom the kind of woman who would stick around once she really got to know me. If I’m being honest, the only kind of woman I could envision wanting me for the long term would have to be on drugs or crazy.
Emery isn’t on drugs, but I’d argue she’s not fully sane. Her short, polished nails rake down my back, leaving their sting behind. Her gaze fixes on mine, and shines with challenge.
“You’re not afraid of anything, are you?” I growl against her lips, plunge my tongue inside and swallow her answering moan.
She slips her hand between us and fists me hard. Almost too hard. “No.”
I hiss and arch my back. “Everyone’s afraid of something,” I say through my panted breath as she strokes me with an expert touch.
She doesn’t respond but to kiss me until my mind spins. I kiss her back because I don’t need to hear her voice her biggest fear, I’m beginning to think I already know it.
Emery is terrified of vulnerability.
She would rather die than appear weak or wounded. Probably the same reason she begs for rough sex. I wonder when the last time she let herself go unguarded was, and who with?
I pull back enough to rip her panties down her legs and when I move up to work on her bra I’m grateful to see she’s already taken it off.
Her pale, wet hair falls down around her shoulders and the moonlight through the window casts her in an eerie glow. I take a mental picture for creative purposes later then put a knee to the bed and grip her hips.
I roll her to her stomach and pull her hips back until she’s on all fours in front of me. I run my palm from her tailbone up her spine to her throat and wrap my hand around her delicate neck. A moan vibrates against my palm. I tighten my fist and a small gasp escapes her. She’s so fucking perfect.
“Spread your knees wider.”
She complies and I feel her pulse race against my hand.
With my free hand between her legs, I tease her until she’s pressing her ass against me and her arms can hardly hold her up. I grab a condom from my bedside, slip it on, and slam into her hard. Her upper body comes off the bed and I pull her back by her neck until her ear is at my lips. “You said bruises.”
Knees wide with me buried inside her, she drops her head back on my shoulder, her arms limp at her side, and she sighs as she gives me her full submission. “Please.”
I run my hand up her stomach to her breast and squeeze. “I’m conflicted, kitten.” I nuzzle her ear, lick and bite her lobe. “You’re begging for me to hurt you.”
“Yes,” she says on a moan.
“I’d rather torture you instead.” I pull my hips back, then forward, at an achingly slow pace until she purrs. I keep my hold on her neck, run my thumb along the sensitive spot under her ear. “You like it slow.”
“No.” Her inner muscles squeeze me.
“Fuck.” I grit my teeth to maintain the slow pace. “You’re body says you’re lying.”
“Harder.”
“No.”
“Theodore, please—”
“No fucking way. Feels too good.” A voice in the back of my head questions what the hell I’m even doing. Get in, go hard, finish and leave happy. My usual motto deflates with a sliver of thought that screams to slow down, prolong, make what we have last.
I cup her between her legs at our connection and she stops begging.
She wants marks, I’ll leave a mark.
I kiss her throat over her pulse point, lick the throbbing vein, and then suck.
Her body locks up. I keep up my slow pace, but thrust deeper while sucking harder. I bite her gently and close my eyes as my release coils at the base of my spine.
She tries to buck against me but she’s locked in place with my hand and my mouth. Soon her body spasms and she gasps and falls limp. I release her neck, lick at the purple spot I left behind, and thrust one more time when my orgasm crashes into me hard enough to nearly knock me off my feet.
I take us both down to the bed, her on her side and me behind her. For minutes I hold her, surprised she hasn’t pushed me away and gone in search for her keys to go home.
“I need to go take care of this condom. Don’t sneak out on me while I’m gone.” I nuzzle her neck. “I’m not done with you yet.”
The corner of her mouth ticks up on one side, a soft, satisfied and exhausted smile. “I can’t run until the feeling in my legs comes back so I think you’re safe.”
I hike myself up off the bed and cross to the bathroom. With her back towards me I take advantage and memorize how gorgeous she looks, naked on my bed. I follow the feminine line from her shoulder to the dip of her waist and the flare of her hip that tapers into long, thin legs. Her fragile exterior calls to my inner caveman who wants to possess, dominate, and protect. But her inner strength calls to my intellect, the part of me who wants a woman to fight back. A woman who refuses to be walked over. A woman the polar opposite of the woman who raised me.
I shake off that thought and take care of business in the bathroom, grateful to find Emery in the same position I left her. I pull back the bed sheets and she sleepily scoots beneath them. I join her, gathering her into my arms.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she whispers. “I plan to sneak out in the middle of the night.”
I smile into her still damp hair that smells of chlorine and wild flowers. “I’d love to see you try.”
Chapter Fourteen
Emery
I wake with a gasp in Theodore’s dimly lit room. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, only to rest my sore, aching body after he put me through a sexual endurance test, which I’m proud to say I passed.
He woke me sometime around two o’clock in the morning and we had sex in that slow, annoying way that I hate, although I can’t complain about the result. I’ve never had orgasms this intense. Maybe I don’t hate it as much as I thought.
I brush my fingertips across the tender spot on my neck and remember his bruising bite. Flutters erupt in my stomach and I turn to see his wide muscular back covered in colorful tattoos that stretch all the way to the round, firm globes of his ass. In the dim light I can barely make out the marks my nails left behind.
The dim light… shit!
I slip from the bed and don’t see my bra and panties anywhere. My clothes are still by the pool. I’ll have to come back another day to claim my underwear. I grab whatever is in one of Th
eodore’s drawers and slip it over my head realizing it’s a ribbed undershirt ten sizes too big. I tiptoe from his bedroom, closing the door as softly as I can. The house is quiet and as I sneak downstairs I cringe as the old wood creaks beneath my feet. I get to the kitchen, walk quickly to the backdoor and dart outside to gather my clothes. Once I’m back in the kitchen I toss my things on the counter and pull off Spider’s tank. The back door bursts open and I whirl around to see Kaipo and Loren, shirtless and sweat-soaked, staring at me.
“Holy shit,” Loren says, his gaze fixed on my bare legs.
“God bless America,” Kaipo says with little emotion as his eyes are also below my waist.
In my rush to cover up I gathered Theodore’s shirt at my breasts leaving me completely exposed from the chest down.
A few beats of awkward silence pass between me and the two living statues before I finally say, “Good morning.”
Loren blinks.
Kaipo’s mouth gapes.
I hold out my arms exposing my entire naked body. “Come on, guys, it’s not like I have anything you haven’t seen before.”
A high-pitched wheeze comes from Kaipo’s throat and Loren sputters inaudibly.
I sigh, realizing both men are clearly incapable of stringing words together in front of a naked woman. I pity their girlfriends. “Right, well, I’ll just finish getting dressed and be out of your hair—”
“No rush….um…” Loren clears his throat, his eyes on my naked ass. “You uh…” He coughs. Twice. “Take your time.” His voice cracks.
I hide a smile and reach for my khaki pants, shaking them out before slipping my leg inside.
“Forgetting something?” Theodore’s lazy drawl sounds from the other side of the kitchen. His tall, six-foot frame is propped against the doorway as he dangles my bra and panties from one finger.
“I looked everywhere for those.”
He pushes up off the wall, sauntering to me in nothing but cut off sweatpants. My eyes dip to the bulge between his legs making him chuckle softly. “I couldn’t let you get away with sneaking out of my bed.” He dangles my undergarments and I snag them from his hand.
Rather than put them on I pull up my khaki pants and shove them in my pocket. “I have to get the truck back or you guys are going to be missing a coach at today’s game.” I finish buttoning up my pants and pull on my cashmere shirt. My keys are where I left them on the counter last night. “Thanks for last night, that was fun.”
His responding smirk is full of heat and dirty promises.
I turn to Kaipo and Loren who, now that I’m fully clothed, seem to have regained the ability to move. “You’re welcome.”
Loren coughs out a laugh. “You got my BPMs up.”
“That’s not the only thing you got up,” Kaipo adjusts the front of his joggers.
My laugh is cut short when I catch Theodore’s slow, steady headshake. “Hope you got your fill, boys. That won’t be happening again.”
I can’t tell if he’s being possessive or if he’s making the announcement that we won’t be happening again.
He grabs my hand and walks me to my truck. The sun is up now and I expect to have at least a half dozen missed calls from my dad on my phone.
“I guess I’ll see you arou—”
Theodore’s mouth is on mine and his tongue sinks between my lips as he slams my back against the truck. His hand dives into my loose hair where he fists it at the root and deepens the kiss. My head spins at his dominant, public display and I moan into his warm mouth. He tastes of mouthwash and dirty dreams. I flatten my hands on his chest and he allows me to push him back.
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you wanted to get caught with me.”
He licks his bottom lip and the sight of his pink tongue brushing over his lip ring makes me want to mount him right here in the street. “I’m starting to think whatever hell Coach puts me through for fucking his daughter might be worth it.”
Me. Worth it? What strange feelings his words bring. Like when I cuddle up with a blanket in front of a fire on a cold night, but on the inside. And feelings can absolutely not be trusted.
“I gotta go.” I don’t look at him again while I climb into the truck, back out of the driveway, and turn down the street. I don’t look back to see if he’s still standing in the street watching me drive away.
But I imagine that he is.
Chapter Fifteen
Spider
We’re thirty minutes from game time and the roar of fans in Bear Stadium vibrates through the concrete walls of our locker room. There is contagious energy in the air that always accompanies games played in our own house. Our BSU family fills the stands, our own field comfortable and familiar.
Players are spread within the space of our locker room, some guys sprawled on benches, others nearly bouncing on their toes with anticipation.
“Yo, Spider!” Kaipo calls from across the room. “I was just telling Carey about what happened in the kitchen this morning.”
Walking downstairs and finding Emery buck-ass naked with my two roommates staring helplessly at her body shouldn’t have surprised me. If she’s proved anything in the short time I’ve known her it’s that she isn’t shy. I actually dig that about her. I do not, however, dig my roommates dreaming up the million different ways they’d like to stick their dicks in her though.
Carey flashes me his signature dimpled grin. “Good thing I slept in. If I walked in on that, I don’t know who would kill me faster. Spider or Rowan.”
“Rowan,” Loren answers and shrugs. “What? She’s a redhead.”
He’s right. Although I don’t like my teammates lusting after Emery, I would never encourage her to cover her body. She’s got a beautiful fucking body. Made even more beautiful by the marks I left on her skin.
Kaipo’s voice quiets. “You better hope she’s worth it, cousin.” His Hawaiian Pidgin accent is thick at his endearment. To Kaipo, everyone is cousin.
As if summoned by the conversation Coach Brawley walks in stone faced and ready for the battle on the field. He eyes us until the room quiets and I don’t miss the side-eyes I get from my roommates.
Is Emery worth the hell I’ll catch from coach if he finds out?
Not long ago I would’ve said hell no.
After last night? A slow smile pulls my lips. Maybe.
“Listen up! This is your night! This is your legacy! I want you guys to go out there and be the best version of yourself. Play like you have something to prove! Leave your mark on that field, boys!” He claps and we jump to attention.
We run onto the field through a tunnel of balloons and confetti to our team’s hype song, Enter Sandman from Metallica. We’re all bouncing on our feet, cranked up with adrenaline that floods our veins and fuels our muscles. I jog the final few yards to the sideline with the rest of my team, coaches, equipment managers and trainers when something small catches my eye. Not something small. Someone small.
Hidden in a flurry of wide, padded shoulders and uniforms is a dainty female wearing a Bear University t-shirt, a thick blonde ponytail coming out the back of a BSU hat.
I’d know that hair anywhere. My fist clenches with the memory of having it wrapped around my knuckles less than twelve hours ago.
Emery.
She turns her head and I catch the purple mark I left on her neck that she’s made no attempt to cover. Possession fires through me and mixed with adrenaline forms a dangerous combination that I need to control if I’m going to play well tonight. Either she hasn’t seen me yet or she pretends not to as she stands with her thumbs looped into the back pockets of her jeans. My teammates shove into me playfully with shouted war cries.
What is she doing here?
I see the moment she registers my presence. Her shoulders stiffen and her chin lifts as a kitten’s would scenting her prey in the air. Her head turns but her back remains to me, and in her profile I see the lift at the corner of her mouth. Is she here for me?
Coach Brawley wa
lks up to her and her smile falls. He grins down at her and says something that she seems to ignore. She faces forward and takes a few steps to the side to put distance between them.
Her body language tells me her presence here has nothing to do with her making some kind of effort for her dad.
Her gaze darts to mine and lingers only for a second, but long enough to communicate why she’s here.
For me.
I started playing football my freshman year in high school as left tackle because I got off on hitting people. In all the years since, no one has ever come to watch me play.
But Emery showed up for me. Even put herself in her hated father’s world. For me. I should feel that shit in my chest, but instead my dick presses firmly against my cup.
If it weren’t for my dedication to my team, I’d blow our cover, collar her throat and sink my tongue into her mouth in front of everyone and God.
I’m not that much of a selfish prick, so I bite my tongue until I feel the rush of saliva fill my mouth. Later. I will kiss her later. I will kiss the fuck out of her. Bite her lip until it bleeds.
Now I do feel something in my chest and it has fuck all to do with the roar of the home team crowd and the thrill of the game.
Whatever this is, it’s Emery who’s making me feel it.
Emery
BSU won.
35-29
Turns out Coach Deadbeat-Dad has a pretty decent team. Not that I know anything about football. I hate the sport.
My sexy quarterback was an integral part in his teams win tonight. I overheard my dad’s shouted praise for his “hustle” and “focus”. I was too transfixed on Theodore’s ass in his uniform and all his black hair soaked with sweat when he would push it off his forehead. He radiates confidence and raw power, and he throws a football as if it’s being shot out of a cannon.
When I asked my dad if I could tag along to tonight’s game it was clear the way his face lit up that he mistook my interest for an olive branch. His hope that eventually he’ll be able to fix what he broke between us as useless as it is pathetic.