“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he smirks. I can’t even form a sassy response because all I’m thinking about is how badly I want him to do it again. Before I know it, my hands start unbuttoning his shirt of their own accord.
“Someone’s excited,” he teases, but his hands shake just as much as mine as he attempts to loosen my uniform top.
“I’ll say.” I look up at him with raised eyebrows. He’s got a boner the size of a Louisville Slugger poking into my stomach, and it isn’t doing anything to slow me down.
My fingers tremble at the last button. I’m entirely overwhelmed with hormones.
“Let me help you,” he says. Then he rips his shirt off and throws it to the ground, unaffected by the buttons flying everywhere. He yanks my shirt off as well, revealing a thin white tank top and a sweaty old sports bra squeezing my breasts together into one uni-boob.
Not exactly sexy, but then again, since when have I ever tried to be sexy? Also, how was I supposed to know this would happen today?
Garrett pulls me into a passionate kiss and pushes me up against the wall, knocking the backs of my knees into the bench, which causes them to give out completely! My legs go slack, and I fall onto the bench with a loud clatter. A moment of silence passes between us before we both burst into a fit of laughter. What the hell are we doing?
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I say, noting the incredibly chiseled abs Garrett is sporting as he chuckles along with me.
“I know. I’ve been dreaming about this for days.” The glint in his eye tells me it’s true.
“You have? That’s funny, ‘cuz I’ve been dreaming of slapping you.” I flash him a smirk of his own caliber, and he fake laughs back at me.
“Ha, ha.” Garrett gets down on his knees, so we’re eye level and plants a lingering kiss on my lips. It’s still such a foreign feeling, and every time my entire body comes alive. I lean into it and pull him closer, letting our mouths do what they want.
Garrett slyly brings his hand down to my belt, tugging it loose. I want to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, but all I can do is let things play out as if I’m experiencing this moment from outside my own body. Garrett undoes my zipper, and my insides burst into flames.
He pulls my pants down over my hips and lets them fall to my ankles, revealing my favorite sporty thong. He whistles at the view, a pleased smile spreading on his face. “Damn, girl. You’ve got some sexy curves.”
I smile back at him, overjoyed at his response to my body. Usually, I try to hide my curves, embarrassed by how obvious they are, how they clearly distinct me in the crowd of guys I call my team. But the way Garrett looks at me, the way he admires me as if I’m some sort of goddess, has me feeling like a grand slam.
“And what are you going to do with them?” I ask, surprised by my own confidence. But the truth is, Garrett has always had an uncommonly strong influence on the way I act and feel, so I guess it only makes sense that if he can make me act like a child, he can make me act like a porn star, too.
“I’m going to worship them,” he says through a devilish grin. Garrett grabs my ass and pulls me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist. And then he traces the outline of my underwear with his index finger, making my every inch quiver with excitement and anticipation. “You like that, huh?” He chuckles.
I nod, so incredibly eager for him to do whatever it is he’s been dreaming of doing for days. A slight warm breeze blows through the dugout, casting goosebumps all over my body, kissing the soaking wet strip of cloth barely covering my most sensitive parts. At this moment, I realize just how ready I am for Garrett to take me, to claim me as his. As much as I try to be one of the guys, Garrett makes me feel like celebrating that I’m not. I always try to hide my curves, my femininity, but here in the dugout just him and me, I want Garrett to make me a woman in every way.
I surrender to the moment and relax in his arms as Garrett slips his rough, hot fingers inside me.
Chapter Thirteen
Garrett
Every subtle move I make with my fingers as I pump them in and out of Cassy’s unbelievably perfect center has her moaning like a goddamn porn star, causing my already rock-hard boner to throb with the need to be inside her. I had no idea how badly I needed Cassy to be mine, and now that she’s here in my arms, I have no intention of letting her go. And to think, I might never have come onto her if Coach hadn’t accused me of flirting.
Truth is, I was flirting. The whole time, despite my own knowledge of it. Because Cassy and I are perfect for each other.
I kiss her long, soft neck, slip my hand under her bra and squeeze her sizeable breast, running my fingers over her nipple as I pump in and out and watch her face contorted in ecstasy. She whimpers and moans, and it’s sexier than I think even she realizes. I’m so close to coming already, and we’re not even at the best part yet.
“You’re so wet for me, Cassy,” I groan. She moans in response. I love watching her come, undone for me. It’s the sexiest I’ve ever seen her, and I can’t wait any longer to be inside her.
I pull my hands back into my personal bubble and race to unbutton my pants. When I finally get the zipper down, my dick springs up like an eager little son of a bitch, and Cassy’s eyes go wide.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” The words come out almost like a growl.
Cassy’s eyelashes flutter. She looks up at me with a flushed smile. “Am I your baby now?” she asks.
“Do you want to be?”
“I’m not sure…” she says, playfully tapping her chin as if she’s in deep thought. “Say it again,” she commands.
I give her my sexiest performance. “Let me feel what it’s like to be inside you, baby.” Cassy lets out a guttural sound in her throat that puts me over the edge. “Is that a yes?” I ask. She nods vehemently. I grip myself to get the right angle, and just as I’m about to thrust inside her, she stops me.
“Wait.” Cassy bites her lip.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you have a condom?”
Shit. “No,” I say gruffly.
“Are you clean?” she asks.
I nod my head, yes.
“Good, I’m on the pill.” Without hesitation, she puts her hand over mine and guides me into her. The moment my tip penetrates her soft wet folds, we both suck in a breath simultaneously. She’s soft and moist and hot as fuck. She rests her head against the wall as I slowly pump myself into her, driving my steel cock deeper every time. I watch her carefully, loving the way Cassy closes her eyes at first, taking me in. I rub her clit with my thumb, and her eyes fly open. She gives a shocked giggle. “Jesus, Garrett, that feels amazing.”
“You feel amazing, baby.”
“Mmmm.” She smiles, closing her eyes again. “Don’t stop, baby,” she says, playing with the word.
“Ohh, baby,” I joke. She laughs. It’s so sexy. I love making her smile.
But her smile quickly turns to a little round “o” as her center muscles contract around my cock. “Garrett,” she breathes. She grips my shoulders, arches her back, and comes right there on me, milking every last hot stream of cum from my body. I shudder and lay my forehead against her heaving chest, my cock still buried deep inside her.
“Yes,” Cassy breathes, still catching her breath.
I kiss her neck and pull out, gently setting her on the bench. “I think you mean, ‘hell yes.’”
She buttons her pants with a smirk and pulls her shirt back on. “No, I mean, yes, I’ll go out with you.”
I chuckle. “Oh. Well, good, because you’ve ruined me for anyone else.” I plant a kiss on her lips, her luscious, full lips, and she lets out another soft moan. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that sound,” I tell her.
“Don’t get all sappy on me, Garrett. You’re still a cocky jerk.”
“Yeah, but I’m your jerk.”
“Are you now?” She grabs her bag and hoists it over her shoulder.
“If you’ll have me,
that is.” I pull her close to me, so she has to look right into my eyes. Hers are glassy and beautiful.
She steps forward and kisses me slowly, sensually, turning me on all over again. She pulls back and flicks my hat playfully. “Yeah. You’ll do.”
I smile. “Great. Let’s go join the guys for steaks.”
“And tell them we’re together?” she asks, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.
“Oh, about that. They already know.”
Cassy drops her jaw. “What?”
I nod. “Apparently they’ve been rooting for us to start dating for a while.” She shakes her head in disbelief. I cup her face in my hands once more and plant a kiss on her nose. “Looks like they really are your friends.” She puts her hands on my forearms and looks up at me. “I told you, you can have it all, Cassy.”
She beams at that, and my damn heart skips a beat. I love it when Cassy smiles, a real genuine smile. She’s like an Angel in the outfield. “I think I just want you,” she says. My heart contracts at her words. We share a sweet kiss before Cassy’s stomach grumbles. “Let’s go get some juicy ribeyes,” she says.
“Anything for you, baby.” She punches my arm, and together we head off on our first of many dates.
Running Back
Running Back is a steamy short college football romance between a sweet, shy heroine and her sexy football hero. It is the fifth book in the College Sports series and can be read as a standalone.
Chloe
I’m a shy, lonely girl from Texas who can’t wait to go back home after graduation.
Then he walks through my door—my elementary school crush, my first love, and the only man I’ve ever wanted.
It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, and he’s more handsome than I ever could have imagined.
Spending time with Ethan re-ignites a light within me, and I suddenly don’t feel like a fish out of water anymore.
But after all this time, is Ethan still the sweet buy I grew up loving, or has he turned into a player like the rest?
Ethan
My life is on point—NFL scouts want me, I’ve got friends to party with, and I’ve somehow managed to keep up my scholarship. So why does it feel like something’s missing?
When I hurt my ankle at football practice, I’m sure everything is about to go downhill.
Then I see her again.
Chloe Adams, my elementary school sweetheart and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
She’s always caught my eye, and now she’s caught my heart. After all these years, it’s time to finally make Chloe mine.
But can I convince her I’m not the player she thinks I am?
If you love second chance sports romances with childhood crushes and steamy sex scenes, you’ll love this book. No cliffhangers in this steamy sweet college romance.
This story takes place at Tempt University, where academic tensions run high and everyone is overdue for a sizzling, lust-fueled fling to get back on track (even the professors).
Welcome to Tempt University!
Chapter One
Ethan
"HIKE!"
The word sends a lightning bolt through my body. My feet move without me even having to tell them, and in a split second, I'm racing past my teammates, pushing through their bulky bodies until I make it into open territory. I give George, our quarterback, a single look over my shoulder, and not a moment later, he sends the football soaring through the air in a perfect arc toward me. I raise my hands to catch it, but it slides out of my grasp the moment the pigskin hits my glove. Without hesitation, I readjust and grab the sucker before this minor screw up becomes a fumble. Cradling the sonofabitch in the crook of my arm, I turn on my heel and book it toward the end zone, trying to figure out why the hell I'm off my game.
Something weird has been going on lately, and I don't understand it at all. One minute all I can think about is football this and NFL that, making appearances at all the best frat parties, and, in general, putting one foot in front of the other toward my dream of getting drafted. So why in the hell did I suddenly start feeling like none of it matters? It's like even though my life seems to be going in precisely the right direction, something is missing. I've been wracking my brain for weeks trying to figure out what that is, but every time I come up empty-handed.
SLAM!
The force of a freight truck knocks into my side. My ankle does a painful twist, and I ram right into the ground, letting the football fly from my hands just two yards from the end zone.
"HA!" My teammate and, coincidentally, roommate Henley's deep, booming voice roars above me. "You're not the only bad mothafucka on this field, baby. Woo!" He does his happy dance while I push myself to my feet, only to wobble and fall right back down.
"Shit," I mutter, wincing at the pain now spreading through my ankle. Damnit! I stand up again, and by the time I manage to get steady on my feet, the team is waiting for me to get back into position.
"C'mon, Figueroa. Get your head in the game!" Coach yells from across the field, waving me to get into my spot as the Tempt University Blazes running back. I suck it up and trot forward, trying to ignore the pain until a spasm takes hold of my leg, and I have to stop. "Something wrong?" Coach continues, coming toward me. I shake my head.
"It's nothing, I'm fine. Just a leg cramp." Coach gives me a questioning glance, like he doesn't believe me, and waves his aides over. "I don't need any help," I say, but Coach isn't having it. He joins his two aids as they rush to my side.
They check me out from head to toe and determine I should see the nurse. I start to protest, but Coach cuts me off and says in a hushed tone, "If this really is nothing, do me a favor and make sure it doesn't become something before the Cali Bowl."
I grit my teeth and reluctantly nod. He's right. The Cali Bowl is probably the most critical opportunity to showcase ourselves to NFL scouts. I'd better get my damn ankle taken care of and my uncharacteristically heady thoughts, in time to kick ass at the Cali Bowl. Reluctantly, I let the aids help me off the field and toward the nurse's office. I glance back at the field as practice continues without me, shaking my head when Henley mockingly gives me the finger.
The aids and I walk in silence down the white-bricked hallway toward the nurse's office. Of course, this happens. The first time I get injured all season, and its mere weeks before the big game. All the scouts will be there, and though it's great to know they've got their eyes on me, it's also terrifying. With my game suddenly off, I'm not sure I'll be able to play like I usually do, even if my damn ankle heals in time. I shake my head at myself as we round the corner. Everything is on point in my life. I've been killing it at practice, half the NFL scouts have their eyes on me, I've somehow managed to keep my scholarship intact, and I still make it to all the good parties on campus. So, what gives?
The aids open the nursing office doors and make room for me to hobble in. The place is bright with florescent lighting and more white bricks. The space is somewhat small, with just two patient tables and a side area for what appears to be physical therapy training. The back of the wall is lined with shelving, and on the right is a countertop with tissues, a sink, and other doctor-looking tools that I have no idea about. A petite woman with long, wavy black hair tends to a teammate drying off from an ice bath in the room's corner. One of the coach's aids sets me on a chair by the entrance and calls for the nurse to check on me. "I'll be right with you," she says without turning around. The aids pat me on the shoulder and head back to the field.
I'm waiting for probably another five minutes while the other guy gets his stuff together and heads out the door, but it's not until the nurse turns around that I completely forget how to breathe.
She has fair skin, striking blue eyes, and the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. It's as if time slows down as she walks toward me, her waves bouncing with every step. She can't be more than twenty-two, twenty-three years old like me. I try to take in all the details of her appearance, committing as much of it to
memory as possible.
The nurse meets my gaze, and something deep inside me clicks. I know her. But from where?
Our eyes meet, and she sucks in an audible gasp. She takes an almost imperceptible step backward before clearing her throat and squaring her shoulders. "What can I do for you today?" she asks, a southern twang coloring her words. Her voice is soft-spoken and sweet like honey.
It takes me a moment to find my own voice, and to be honest, I forgot why I was here. But a spasm of pain shoots through my ankle just then, reminding me of my injury. "I'm not sure what I did, but it hurts to walk on my right foot."
She asks me to stand up so she can help me toward the patient table. "Where exactly is the pain coming from?" With delicate hands, she supports me surprisingly well as I hobble along.
I stand on my good leg and gesture from my ankle to halfway up my thigh. "Here." She smirks and gives me a look that says, that was helpful. I smile back, pleased to have caused any sort of reaction from her.
She bends forward to inspect closer. I'm entirely distracted from the pain as her fingers trail down my leg. She asks me a few more questions, and every time she speaks, I feel like a part of me is drawn closer to her. I'd remember that accent anywhere, so why don't I remember her? It's the first time I've met anyone here at Tempt U. that sounds like me. "Where are you from?" I ask, ignoring everything she's saying about my leg. To be honest, I could care less right now.
"Oakwood, Texas," she says. My ears perk up when she says those words.
"I'm from Oakwood, Texas!" I shouldn't be this excited, but knowing I have something in common with this woman has me feeling like an elementary school kid making a friend.
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