Touchdown Baby: A College Football Romantic Comedy
Page 8
There’s a word for this and I’m more than happy to enlist.
War.
I field a few questions and take several more photos with the coach and the team, all the while glancing at her in the crowd. Her face lights up every time we make eye contact. Blush races to her cheeks and I tingle with adrenaline.
But why?
Why is she doing this now?
This morning…
I must have struck a serious nerve with what I said. Why else would she put in this much effort to entice me? To prove that I still want her? This is classic cat and mouse. She’s dangling herself in front of me, toying with my hunter instincts just to whip it away at the last second and laugh at me.
Not tonight, Alyssa Pierce.
This is my game you’re playing.
And she really needs to be taught a lesson.
The coach calls a few other players forward, cycling us out to give everyone a chance to shine. I take a bow and make my escape, sneaking off into the crowd. I weave through the cameras and microphones to get closer to Alyssa. It’s risky, but necessary. A text would suffice, but I want to see her reaction myself.
Alyssa watches me approach from the corner of her eye. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t speak. She stands still, looking forward, pretending to ignore me.
I lean in close. I discreetly touch her arm, rolling my fingers around the exposed flesh of her elbow. “Pool house. Now,” I whisper in her ear.
She doesn’t even flinch as I release her, but her chest rises sharply with the sudden intake of breath.
Good.
I walk away, cutting a quiet path across the lawn toward the pool house. I go carefully, waiting for the camera flashes to blind Coach before beelining for the door on the far side.
It’s unlocked. I hover in the darkness, waiting for my vision to adjust. In the shadows, I scan the furniture inside. A few couches. A kitchenette. A table with several chairs. I lean against the table, gripping the edge behind me as I wait, counting my breaths until I see her curvy shadow on the walkway outside.
Alyssa closes the door softly behind her. Then, she pauses as I did, blinking her big eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Words rush my tongue, but I bite it instead. Words to scold. Words to punish. I’m not the type of man you mess with. I’m the type who takes what he wants. She shouldn’t be such a tease or else…
Damn. I’m kind of creepy.
I shake it off, inhaling to speak.
Holy shit, she’s gorgeous.
My tongue turns to mush in my mouth. I forget everything. All the words melt away. I wanted her to bend to my will, but now all I want to do is fall to my knees and worship her.
“Junior.” She steps forward, fearless. “I’m up here.”
I grab her arm and pull her closer to me. Alyssa inhales sharply, stunned by my sudden movement, but she does nothing to distance herself from me. I cup her face in one hand, running my thumb over her bottom lip. She trembles beneath my touch. My tongue erupts, just begging to taste her again. Again, I bite down. Now would be the time to say it. To put her in her place. To—
Dude, stop being creepy and just kiss her.
I kiss her. She kisses me back. Her arms curl around me as I take hold of her hips. I spin her around to set her on the table behind me. She hops onto it, hiking up her skirt as she wraps her legs around my waist, holding us together with perfectly toned thighs.
“Admit it,” I say. “You wore that dress to get my attention.”
She chuckles. “I wore this dress because it makes me look good. Don’t be so self-centered.”
I bite her neck. She flinches at the sudden pain, but melts even harder against me. Her skin tastes sugary sweet and my mouth waters, eager to know what she tastes like elsewhere.
I reach for my belt to free the throbbing monster inside. She grips my wrists to slow me down.
“Junior, stop.”
“Ally…”
“A quickie in the pool house might be enough for other girls,” she says, holding my eyes. “I’m an all night long kind of lady and if your fucking stamina is anything like your running stamina… you could use a little more training first.”
Her words crack like a damn whip, but I tingle at the pleasure it brings. “I assure you, I can rock you until dawn, Ally.”
“I have my doubts.”
She lowers her legs as she presses against my chest, forcing me to take a very difficult step back.
I growl in frustration.
She chuckles, delighted by it. “You’re used to these girls just opening themselves to you anytime you want, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I say. It’s true.
“Then, you don’t know what it’s like for them to stop you like I have, do you?”
I don’t answer. Of course I don’t.
She extends her palm, her eyes shining with devious light. “Give me your hand.”
I hesitate, unsure what her touch on my skin will do to me, but I obey, utterly bewitched by her.
Alyssa guides my hand. She sets it against her knee. I sigh, feeling her body heat against my palm. She trails it up her thigh, inching closer to her slit, and halts it just before it reaches her core.
“Stop,” she says, sensing my need to keep going. “You can just feel it, can’t you? My heat bleeding against your skin…”
I lick my lips, starving. “Yes.”
She spreads her legs a little wider, but keeps my hand still against her inner thigh.
“How wet do you think I am right now?” she asks, her voice seductive as fire. “How tight?” I can’t answer. I can barely even breathe. “What do you think I feel like? Smell like? Taste like?”
“Heaven.”
She laughs. “Maybe you’re right.”
My breath catches in my throat as she slips her hand beneath the skirt of her dress. Her pink folds show in the darkness. She’s not even wearing panties.
Fuck me.
A slow sigh escapes her lips as she pushes a single finger inside of her. I chew on my bottom lip, my palm shaking against her thigh as she pulls her hand away, her knuckles glistening.
Alyssa sticks her finger in her mouth. “Mmm,” she hums, tasting herself. She sucks it clean. “Like warm milk and honey—”
I move my hand closer, unable to stop myself, but she snatches it and stops me.
“This is torture,” I say.
“It’s incentive.” With a jerk, she pushes my hand away and hops off the table, pushing her dress back down. “My pussy is a loser-free zone, Junior. Win the game on Saturday and you just might qualify for admission.”
She steps around me and walks to the door.
Holy hell.
I roll my hands into fists, frustrated with sin. “I’m going to bury my face in your pussy until you’re screaming my name, Alyssa Pierce.”
She pauses in the doorway. As she gazes over her shoulder at me, she licks her lips one more time. “Won’t that be fun?” she says. “Bye, Junior.”
“Bye, Ally.”
She exits, leaving the door open wide.
I drop my head and stare at my bulging junk.
Win the game on Saturday. Qualify for admission.
Okay, then.
I will.
CHAPTER 14
ALYSSA
Deep breaths.
Deeper breaths.
Grant and I are up next to audition. Nervous butterflies aren’t usually part of my pre-stage routine, but I can’t shake them this time. It might have something to do with Mr. Young’s endless supply of doubt and misery that he’s always so insistent on bludgeoning me with. Or I’m just hungry. I haven’t been able to eat anything all day because of how nervous I am.
Or perhaps it has something to do with Junior Morgan.
Speaking of things I can’t shake off.
I’ve been wanted before. I’ve been liked. Maybe even loved. But no one’s ever desired me like he does. And when his hands are on me — dammit, I think I desire him, t
oo.
When I’m around him, I feel like a glass of water out in the desert or a blanket on a snowy mountain. I’m not just something he needs for convenience or luxury. No, if he doesn’t get me, he’ll die. That’s how badly he wants me.
And when his hands on are me — dammit, I think I want him, too.
He excites me in ways I haven’t felt in a long time. Possibly ever.
Grant nudges my elbow from the seat beside me. “So, you gonna tell me about it?” he asks.
I keep my voice down to avoid interrupting the other act on stage. Oh, and they’re also really freaking good. Not that I wasn’t nervous enough already…
“Tell you about what?” I ask.
“About the two minutes and forty-three seconds you spent alone with Junior Morgan in the pool house last night.”
“Okay, you have got to stop being so weird.”
“Come on. What happened in there? I require details.”
My lips curl on their own. “We talked.”
“With your genitals?”
I silently smack his arm. “No.” His eyes burrow into mine, reading me for every lie. “Well, kind of.”
“I knew it.”
“Let’s just say the player and I have come to an understanding,” I say.
“Like?”
“Like if the team wins the game tomorrow, he and I can talk some more.”
“With your genitals?”
I hesitate. “Yes.”
“Well, well, well…” He grins with pride. “Sounds like Cary Pierce isn’t the only new coach around here. I’m impressed.”
“I don’t want to be another girl he bangs and forgets about,” I say. “I have more self-respect than that.”
“Sure.”
“If he wants me, then he’ll show me that same respect and earn it on my terms.”
“Oh, you don’t have to justify it to me, honey. I’m all for it. You just have to worry about what Daddy thinks of it.”
“What Daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“That’s always been my motto,” he jokes.
“Which is why I trust you to keep this quiet.”
Grant presents his hands in surrender. “I swear on my life, Alyssa. If this gets out, it won’t come from me.”
“Thank you.”
“Next!”
My heart stops as Mr. Young calls us out.
Grant takes my hand in a vise-like grip. “You ready?” he asks.
“No.”
“Me neither.”
I nod, quickly forcing every butterfly to wither and die in my stomach. “You ready?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says, faking it with me.
We rise together.
“Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER 15
JUNIOR
What am I doing here?
Why am I doing this?
The question repeats in my head until the words become meaningless. They beg for answers, but I don’t have them.
What am I doing here? Fuck if I know.
Why am I doing this? Beats me.
But here I am.
I’m the idiot hiding on the balcony, silently staring down at the stage while Alyssa Pierce auditions for… I’m not really sure what play this is.
She’s incredible.
“Do you see what you did, eh?!” Grant’s voice carries throughout the auditorium. “You made a fool outta me.”
“I’m sorry!” Alyssa cries out, her entire body bleeding with emotion. “I don’t know how many times I can say it…”
My chest clenches. It’s insane. I’ve seen this bit before. I know it’s all fake, but the urge to rush onto that stage and save her still lingers in me.
What’s that about? I don’t fucking know.
Do I care? Ask again later.
I flinch as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Drifting back behind the curtain to make sure I remain unnoticed, I check it to find a new text from John.
WHERE ARE YOU?
I furrow my brow, but my confusion only lasts a second.
I have football practice today.
I have football practice… in three minutes.
My gut lurches. Shit. Coach is going to lose it. If I don’t go right now, I’ll spend the next hour running laps.
I lean back to leave, but I hear her voice again.
“I wish to God I didn’t love you!”
The pain and anguish in those words draw me right back to my perfect view of the stage. Alyssa Pierce beneath the lights. Her chest rising and falling. Very real tears streaming down her face. But it’s not real. She’s just…
Incredible.
I linger in place until the audition is over.
I need to do more cardio, anyway.
CHAPTER 16
ALYSSA
“We didn’t get it.”
Grant exhales patiently. “We don’t know that yet.”
I plop onto my bed, my gaze locked on the ceiling as I talk to him through my phone. “Yes, we do. Mr. Young didn’t say a word. Not one damn word!”
“I told you, he always does that.”
“Not one nod. Not even a smile. A sneer. I’d have taken a sneer!”
“Alyssa.”
“He just sat there with that dumbass expression of his and waved us off — like we were nothing.”
“Alyssa.”
“Next!” I mock with an arm flourish over my head. “I mean, who does that?!”
“Alyssa.”
“What?”
“Relax,” Grant says, his voice full of sincerity. “This is your first time auditioning for Young. Meanwhile, I have been through this four times. Trust me. The more stoic he is, the better your chances are.”
I sigh, still unconvinced. “Maybe we shouldn’t have gone so aggressive.”
“No,” he says. “We played it perfectly. You and I know it. Young knows it. Everyone in that auditorium knew it, too. Did you hear what they said after we stepped off the stage?”
I squint, trying to remember, but that hour of my life is a hazy blur. “No,” I say at length.
“Exactly. Pin-drop silence, babe. They didn’t know what hit them.”
“Or they’re all just great at staying in character.”
Grant exhales again, but this time not as patient as before.
“I know,” I say, closing my eyes as a wretched feeling takes over. “I’m sorry. I know I’m just being stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” he says. “You just need a distraction. That’s what I’m doing.”
“What are you doing?”
“Going on a date.”
I pique with interest. “Really? With who?”
“Ah-ah-ah,” he says amid the shuffling of cloth. I must be on speakerphone. “My love life is a very closed book.”
I scoff. “Says the man who insists on knowing every single detail of mine?”
He pauses. “You make an interesting point. However, I still can’t say.”
“Why not?”
“Because this suitor isn’t… out yet. I cannot and will not do it for him.”
“Respect,” I say, letting it go.
“Thank you.” Grant shuffles again, picking up the phone. “Just try not to worry about the audition, Alyssa.”
“Find a distraction,” I repeat.
“Precisely.”
“I will try.” I force a smile. “Go have fun.”
“I always do.”
I hang up, letting the phone slide off my cheek onto my pillow. With closed eyes, I take a breath, willing my mind to blank. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to picture anything other than that damn audition. What if we did it all wrong? What if I didn’t emote? What if? What if? What if?
“Distraction,” I say to myself. “I need a distraction.”
I grab my phone, ready to immerse myself within the endless scroll of social media. A little serotonin should provide a few minutes of distraction.
3 new tags.
Excellent.
/> I check them. Two are nothing, but the third one is from the Bearhawk Bulletin, the university newspaper. They’ve tagged me, along with my father, with an article detailing the team event the other night in our backyard. It starts with a photo of the two of us in the foyer downstairs, his large arm wrapped around my shoulders in a fatherly embrace.
Cary Pierce and daughter Alyssa, 19.
It’s convincing enough, I’ll give it that.
I swipe down. Fortunately, I disappear and the true focus of the article comes up. Four-time champion Cary Pierce, of course, but also a profile of the Bearhawks’ major players.
Junior Morgan included.
I slam my thumb down, pausing the scroll. Junior, tall and smiling, his toned body wrapped in that suit. The quarterback destined to flourish under Cary Pierce’s wing.
I’m going to bury my face in your pussy until you’re screaming my name.
The phone nearly slips from my fingers as his voice echoes in my memory. I couldn’t believe he said that. I still don’t.
Hell, I can’t believe I told him I’d fuck him if he won the game on Saturday. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but there’s no way I can actually go through with that, right? As much as I’d like to, he’s the quarterback and I’m the coach’s daughter. Big no-no. I’d risk not only screwing up my life, but destroying Junior’s athletic career as well.
But…
I assure you, I can rock you until dawn, Ally.
The way he says my name.
I switch the phone to my left hand. My right drifts down my body before I even realize I’m doing it.
This means nothing, I tell myself as I push my hand into my shorts.
It’s just a distraction.
I spread my legs. I run my fingertips along my smooth lips, teasing myself as I look at Junior’s photos again. With the team. By himself, posing for the camera in the backyard. Kissing me in the pool house. Pinning me against the table, his tongue caressing mine.
My clit is throbbing by the time I finally touch it. I release a gasp, remembering the feeling of his hand crawling along my thigh. The sin in his eyes. The lust on his breath. He wanted me so badly, he would have fallen to his knees for me right then if I had let him.