For Three Seconds (Forbidden Sports Romance)

by C. Lymari

  I was about to push him away when someone did it for me. It took a second to realize Drew didn’t get pushed away, but I was being led away. Gavin’s hand was around my waist, and he was dragging me toward the stairs.

  Now I could feel everything—his fingers digging into my hips, the current that flowed between our bodies, his smell, the way my heart seemed to want to beat out of my chest whenever he was near.

  “Gavin,” I said as he started to lead me up the stairs.

  He didn’t answer, but his hold on me got tighter. We didn’t stop when we made it to the kitchen; instead, he took me up another flight. He kept moving down the dark hallway until we stopped in front of a door. He opened it and pushed me inside.

  My heart was pounding, every beat laced with fear and excitement. It’d been years since I felt so alive. I wanted to scream and cry but refrained from either.

  Gavin closed the door behind me and pressed me against it. My eyes went to his lips. No guy should have a perfect Cupid’s bow like him. Instead of looking feminine, it made you want to taste his lips. Once upon a time, I had.

  He put his hands on either side of my head. He wanted to intimidate me; the thing was, I never felt more myself than when I was in his presence.

  “How many men have you let have your lips?” he demanded.

  There was fire in his eyes, but ice in his veins. He was angry, yet he wanted me to think he didn’t care.

  “That’s none of your business,” I said, aware that it would anger him.

  Gavin smirked at me. “Yeah?”

  I raised on my toes, meeting him head-on. “You’ve never had a claim on me.”

  His gray eyes hardened.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” His head got closer to my face.

  We were so close to our lips touching. I wanted it to happen—no, I needed it to happen.

  “I have a claim on you.”

  “Yeah?” I taunted.

  His chest was rising and falling, as was my own, but neither of us wanted to back down.

  “I have your first kiss.” His forehead rested on mine. “Your whimpers and moans.” His lips grazed my nose. “Your virginity.” He groaned.

  My eyes were lost in his, lost in a trance.

  “Your first orgasm.”

  “That doesn’t—”

  He growled, pressing his body against mine. “Bullshit, Scar. I know when you feel, and baby, you didn’t feel shit.” His lips were hovering over mine, and when he spoke, he did it against my own. “Let’s see if I can still make you feel.”

  This kiss—this kiss reminded me why I was ruined. It wasn’t perfect, nor sweet, but it was real. He tasted like lies, and I tasted like regret. My mouth opened for him as if he belonged to me, and he didn’t give me more. Three seconds too soon, and Gavin pulled back with a satisfied smirk on his face.

  “Looks like I’m still in there.”

  My breath was coming in pants. Those flutters I only felt when he was near were roaring, demanding to be fed the emotions he evoked in me. A game of spin the bottle changed me, and by the looks of things, it looked like it had done it again. Unfortunately, with feeling came all the emotions. You didn’t get to pick and choose. Life didn’t work that way.

  “You always were,” I whispered.

  His eyes flashed with surprise.

  “But you made sure to ruin it.”

  I pushed him off from me, and when I walked out, he didn’t stop me. When I made it down the stairs, Audrey was sitting on the stairs on her phone. When she heard me come down, she turned and looked relieved.

  “Are you okay?” She rushed to me.

  I managed to nod. “Can we leave?”

  “Yeah, of course. I was waiting for you.”

  I turned to look back at her, surprised. Gigi had never done that for me. She usually ditched me if I wasn’t in a partying mood. I looked at Audrey, who didn’t bitch or moan that we were leaving the party. It made me think about that night—the whole reason I’d had to call my parents because I got ditched.

  When we got home, I didn’t change. I lay on the bed with Gavin’s taste still on my lips.

  “Scarlett, you need to help me, please.” The voice was frantic.

  “Baby, get out, please.” This one was begging.

  I opened my eyes and immediately felt dizzy. My seat belt felt suffocating, strapped against my body. Moving my head, I couldn’t figure out where I was. Everything was wrong. When I blinked, then did I realize I was upside-down.

  “We have to leave. This thing will blow,” a masculine voice said.

  “No!” was shouted.

  I was going to close my eyes, but met my mom’s through the rearview mirror. God, the look in her eyes screamed defeat.

  “M-mom,” I croaked.

  “Get out,” she begged.

  “Mom!” I shouted, only to come awake covered in sweat.

  My heart was beating erratically, and I swore I could smell the smoke in the air. It had been years since I’d had a nightmare. Why now? I pulled my legs against my chest and cried.

  When morning came, I called my new therapist, and fortunately, she had room to meet me. The house was quiet, which let me get ready in peace before I went to talk about my feelings.

  It was either that or get on medication, and I didn’t like the way the drugs made feel like an alien in my own body. This way, I could work out my feelings.

  The doctor’s office was by a strip mall. It looked ordinary from the outside, the window tinted, but once you walked in, it gave off that office smell that made it feel cold and uninviting. I didn’t have to wait for long before I was being prodded with half questions meant to reveal full answers.

  “When was the last time you had a nightmare?” my therapist asked.

  She was old, with wrinkles across her face, short brunette hair, natural makeup, and a gray suit.

  “A little after high school ended. My depression was at an all-time low. I withdrew from everyone I knew. I didn’t talk to my friends; I just lay in bed, and everything made me want to cry or rage. I thought it was normal behavior for grief.”

  “But you tried to take your own life,” she said.

  She pierced me with a stare. It wasn’t cold, nor was it pity; she was just stating a fact that was hard to explain.

  “Have you ever smelled burning flesh?” I asked her, which caught her off guard. I kept going before she could reply. “I might not remember much about that night, but I remember waking up on the side of the road, and my parents’ car on the other side was burning. The smell…God, that’s something I’ll never forget. It was like burnt liver, but coppery and metallic. It was so strong that when I screamed, I could taste it.”

  Both of us stayed quiet for a second. I didn’t know how I got out of the car, and why would I leave my parents to that fate? My alcohol levels were pretty high when the police and ambulance got there. They took pity on me and didn’t give any charges for underage drinking. Perhaps they knew what I already did: killing my parents was punishment enough.

  “I didn’t try to kill myself on prom night. I remembered that smell. I remembered the flames, and I wanted to wash them off me. I didn’t realize I lost control until he saved me.”

  Gavin and Dylan were the only ones who still saw me when I started to pull away. Gavin was the only one who saw me, saw past the façade, and if it wasn’t for him, I might be dead.

  “Gavin was it,” she stated. “He’s the one who saved you, but he is also the one who told your brother. Do you resent him?”

  “For telling on me? No.” The answer was quick.

  I didn’t resent him for telling Nick. How could I when he’d sat on my other side at my parents’ funeral. While Gigi lost it and leaned into me for comfort, he’d stood on my other side, a wall of strength. At one point, I think he held my hand, squeezing it hard to keep me grounded. Having him there next to me meant much more than I ever allowed myself to admit.

  “I want to see you once a week, for now,
Scarlett,” my therapist was quick to reply while she wrote some notes.

  Being dismissed, I gave her a nod and grabbed my things.

  “Here.” She extended me a card. “That’s my personal number. Call me if you ever need anything.”

  Taking the card, I gave her a small smile and walked out. When the fresh air hit my face, I felt like I could breathe again.

  Sixteen

  “You always were, but you made sure to ruin it.”

  I heard Scarlett’s voice in my head. Saw the hurt on my mind, and it fucked with me.

  God, that kiss—it undid me. I hadn’t felt that way about anyone since prom night. I wanted to own her again. Worship her sweet body like I had done when I was an idiot kid. Just because we wanted things, it didn’t mean we should have them.

  “Fuck, man.” Quincy came up to my face and started to yell.

  He took off his helmet, and I didn’t blame him. The screaming fans and the blaring lights usually calmed me, but today, they fed my anxiety.

  “You need to get your head in the game, Dunn. I don’t give a fuck how that happened, but a game like today can’t happen again.”

  I bit my tongue to not say anything because he had every right. There was no way to catch up now. I looked over at my coach, and he looked pissed. My eyes met Nick’s, and he tried to give me a sympathetic smile, but it looked like a grimace.

  This loss was on me.

  The game ended, and everyone knew it was my fault. Call me Mr. Butter-fucking-fingers. I couldn’t catch a damn pass. I hated myself tonight. I hated that I was so weak and she affected me on a molecular level that rewired my whole being.

  “Snap out of it.” Ollie punched my shoulder.

  He didn’t get it, the pressure. He was never going to play pro. He didn’t know about the pressure to perform better than the last game, or being better than everyone else because you needed the scouts to want you—need you.

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  “Remember that time Q forgot his little magic ball? Everyone gave him shit for it.”

  I couldn’t help but grin. Quincy was superstitious. Hell, we all were when it came to his Christmas ornament. I didn’t know why he had it, how the hell it ended up in his duffel bag, but when he found it and left it at home one time, we lost fucking bad. Ever since then, he didn’t want to chance it.

  Neither did we.

  “Don’t let him hear you talking shit about his magic ball,” I said, welcoming the distraction.

  “I tried opening it once, and he bitched me out. Said it contained a wish and I should just leave it.” Ollie shuddered.

  When we got to the school parking lot, the same feeling came back. I didn’t want to be with my friends, but I also didn’t want to be alone. The guys were having a party to soothe the loss.

  I didn’t want to be at the house, not when Gigi kept stealing glances my way. When I was low, she wanted to be near me like a leech. I was tired of her bullshit.

  I got in my car and drove until I ended up outside of Scarlett’s house. I didn’t know what I was doing here, but the sting of seeing her would outweigh the sting of my shitty game. Seeing her was pleasure and pain a toxic combination I couldn’t run away from. I got out of my car and knocked on the front door.

  Kenia opened the door and looked pleased that it was me there.

  “Gavin, hi.” She brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear.

  I’d slept with her my sophomore year—nothing beyond a quick fuck, but that meant nothing to me. I knew it was a dick thing to say, but it wasn’t like I’d lied and told her that I wanted more with her. Since I came to college, I had one rule, and that was no girlfriends.

  “Where’s her room?” I asked.

  Her smile faltered a bit. I’d never shown up for her. I didn’t know why she would think I would start now.

  “Whose room?” she asked.

  “Let him in,” Audrey called out. “Down the hall.”

  I stepped in the door and I noticed she was on the sofa. Her eyes sent me a warning. I gave her a nod and made my way down past their kitchen to the only room that was in the back. I stopped and looked at Scarlett’s closed door before I knocked.

  “Come in,” she yelled.

  My hand trembled as I reached for the doorknob. I was nervous; I shouldn’t be here, but fuck if I was going to turn around now.

  She wasn’t paying attention to me when I opened the door. She probably thought I was one of her friends. Scarlett was a fucking vision. No wonder I couldn’t get my shit together. She wore short shorts and a university T-shirt. Her hair was loose and wavy as fuck. I wanted to grip her hair as I took her lips; it was something I had fantasized over since I was young. Her books were spread on the bed as she chewed on a pencil while her eyes focused on the television. I sucked in a breath when I noticed she was watching highlights of tonight’s game.

  “You saw me play?” My voice came out hoarse.

  Her head turned my way so fast her pen went flying. If I wasn’t feeling so shitty and out of my element, I would have laughed.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know,” I confessed as I closed her door and leaned against it. “I sucked out there.”

  Scarlett didn’t lie to make me feel better. We both knew the game sucked and I was to blame. She just looked at me with understanding in her eyes.

  “I guess I wanted to forget,” I continued with my explanation. “And seeing you makes me angry, and I can forget about my stats, the scouts, and it’s only you, and the pain that comes with you.”

  It was harsh, but it was the truth. Scarlett didn’t say anything, but she closed her books. Her eyes were giving me a wary look.

  “What do you want?”

  Now, that was a loaded fucking question. I didn’t have the answers she wanted, but I also didn’t want to lie to myself.

  “Honestly, I want to fuck you.”

  Her eyes went wide, and her lips parted, and I had to hold off from walking up to her and kissing her again.

  “You don’t even like me.”

  “I don’t. And I just want to not hate myself for tonight’s game.” I walked toward her.

  Scarlett pushed her books to the edge of the bed, but she didn’t run away. I reached the bed, and she was already facing me, making it easier to grab her hair.

  “You should go, Gavin,” she said, her voice barely holding conviction.

  “I should,” I repeated. Instead, I leaned into her, making our lips touch.

  “Do I still make you forget?” I asked before I kissed her.

  It took a moment before her lips moved against mine. The moment she gave in to me, she rose on her knees, and her hands went around my neck. When she gave herself to me like that, I lost it. I pulled her closer to me, my hand coming to her trim waist and roaming down until I cupped her juicy ass. Scarlett had always been thick, her body curvy in all the right places. She wasn’t model thin, and the more I felt of her, the more I wanted my dick inside her.

  “Gavin,” she moaned, and I knew she felt the bulge I was now sporting on her stomach.

  I didn’t answer her. Not with words anyway. My hand went under her shirt, relishing in the feel of her soft skin.

  “We should stop,” she moaned.

  She was right. We should. But at this point, I didn’t think I could. Attraction was fatal, and right now, ours was killing me in the best way.

  “Tell me to leave, Scar.”

  My hand moved higher, and I groaned when I met her heavy breast. I brought my other hand inside her shirt so that I could touch all of her. I pinched her nipples and teased them while my mouth continued to swallow Scarlett’s whimpers.

  “Gavin, we shouldn’t…” Scarlett started to say again.

  I pulled back to look at her, and fuck, why was she always like a rush of adrenaline to my system? Her lips were swollen from our kisses and her eyes full of lust, and it was all because of me. I did that.

  “Tell me t
o leave,” I pleaded hoping that right now she was stronger than I was.

  She just stared at me, but didn’t say a word as I started to move my hands.

  Her body shivered as I trailed my hands over her thighs until I reached the apex. I bit my lip as I kept touching her higher, and two fingers met her hot center. The cotton was damp. When I added pressure, she let out a soft moan.

  “Your pussy is wet. Your nipples are hard. I barely kiss you and you get wild. You want me, Scar,” I said before I removed my shirt.

  It gave me satisfaction that Scarlett enjoyed my body. The grueling workouts and practices, pushing my body into being a well-oiled machine. As she watched me, I also removed my pants and boxers. My dick was rock hard, and it remembered how it felt to be sheathed in her wet heat.

  It was something I thought I’d never have the chance to do again. Something I was not in the right head frame for, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was wired, angry, and horny as fuck.

  I put my knee on the bed and hauled Scarlett toward me. With both hands, I removed her blouse. She was breathtaking, and I didn’t let her know. Her breasts were round and her nipples cherry red. My mouth fucking watered.

  My gaze was heated and taking in everything about Scarlett, the changes in her body since the last time I’d had her like this.

  “Don’t,” I growled when she made a move to cover herself up.

  I kissed her neck, my lips trailing down to her breast, and I smiled when she shivered from the friction my beard provided. I kissed her neck down to her chest and felt the rise and fall of Scar’s breaths. I bent down and took one breast in my mouth. I sucked on it and nibbled it until Scarlett started squirming. I did the same to her other breast while I carried her against me and did fast work to remove her shorts.

  Fuck, her naked chest on my own was more than I could handle. I laid her down on the bed and kissed between her breasts, moving down her body as her back arched, offering me more.

  “I can smell your sweet pussy. It’s begging for me to fuck it,” I said against the curve of her stomach.