Touchdown and Dirty

by Sidda Lee Rain

  Can one actually die of embarrassment?

  Well, she’d be the first, Roxy was sure of it.

  “I’m not doing very well here if I’ve already lost your attention, huh?” Clayton’s voice gave her a start. Lost in her own head again, Roxy hadn’t been paying attention to the assault his strong hand was committing on her ass. “I know just how to get your attention.” Letting his hand start working its way down he kept his eyes on her. She was beautiful, and he wondered if she really knew that? Now wasn’t the time to tell her—she’d just chalk it up to his over eager cock talkin’.

  Damn! Clayton wanted to plow into her body again and again. How had he let her outta his bed this morning? He’d be sure not to make that mistake again if he could help it. Certainly not before they cleared a few things up. Like the whole…you date no one else. That kinda went nicely with the whole…I don’t share my woman frame of mind he was in.

  Clayton let his fingers walk her dress up as quickly as he could all while allowing himself to taste the salty sweet taste along her collarbone and neck.

  “What do we have here?” He asked as he felt the small straps from her stockings to her garter belt.

  “Fort Knox of undergarments.”

  “Sweetheart? A garter belt and stockings isn’t gonna keep me from anything—“

  “No, I meant the hold-me-in, suck-me-in very unsexy underwear I have on.”

  Not being able to resist…he looked. However, all he saw was shiny black covering paradise under the laciest black garter belt he’d ever seen. Roxy was definitely an undercover sexpot but her sexy underthings surprised even him. The thought of her in her combat boots now paired with the stockings made him smile. Even that visual was kinda hot.

  “You lost me after the suck-me-in part, Sunshine.”

  “Is that your way of saying you want me to suck you off—“

  “Not even close.” He saw the look of confusion on her face and wanted to make himself clear. “Trust that I want that, but right now I want to feel you. I wanna feel you coming on my fingers so hard that I worry I won’t be able to throw a decent pass ever again. I want to be able to smell you on my hand so I know when Brooks drives you home, that he’ll never know your scent—the same scent I plan to be covered in come morning.”

  Mercy, the man had a way with words!

  “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Nothing else came to her mind so she just spit the words out.

  “When it comes to you? I’m not even close to sure of anything other than it would be a crime to deny me access to this body of yours tonight.” Honest, that’s for sure.

  Roxy felt as his fingers breeched the spandex fortress she was bound in. Clayton pushed the material to the side as he lightly began to rub her; the slightly coarse hair nothing but a strip, he made it to her glistening folds. Delving a single finger between them, heat and dampness met him. Clayton’s finger quickly became wet with her excitement. It was confirmation that Roxy was feeling everything as much as he was.

  He leaned back and watched his fingers—two now entering her, her sex parting only to swallow him and attempt to hold his fingers there. Looking up, he saw she was watching him under lowered lashes, those sexy lips slightly parted. Finding her clit with his thumb, he pressed down as he worked his fingers in and out of her.

  Roxy figured she should probably be embarrassed by the wet noises coming from her most private of places, but at the moment, just finding a breath was all she could muster. Clayton’s hands might work wonders with a football but he had even more talent on a woman’s body. Sweet Jesus, he had her panting, and it took all she had not to beg him to fuck her right then and there. She shuddered, her body shamelessly grinding against his hand.

  He was overcome with so much then, one of wanting her so damn bad it hurt and another thought of keeping her for himself, for good. Clayton knew he was too far gone, far too soon. If Roxy cut it off, he’d have no choice. He’d just have to make sure she didn’t consider it.

  He worked his fingers inside of her, quickening his speed as she repeatedly moaned his name. Flicking her clit back and forth, he felt as her pussy began to spasm. Roxy gripped his tuxedo jacket as she bucked against him.

  “Ohhhhh Clay—“ He swallowed the rest of her cries as she came in a wet convulsing mess. Her interior muscles clamping around his fingers, he didn’t want to withdraw from her clenching pussy. But, slowly he did—only to put his fingers in his mouth and suck off her juices. Groaning, he was well aware that he was torturing himself. A taste would only make him crave her more.

  Righting her dress, Clayton willed away his erection, knowing he’d have to return to the ballroom within minutes.

  Roxy noticed that he hadn’t even looked at her after her mind-blowing orgasm. The man had fixed her undergarments for her slowing only to run his finger under one of her stockings briefly before fixing her gown. Then, he opened the door and motioned for her to exit. She did. Walking down the dim hallway, he still hadn’t spoken a word, and she began to worry what had upset him.

  Making it to the edge of the ballroom, she was relieved to see so many dancing and the rest of the room mingling. Nobody was really in their assigned seats anymore. She saw the moment Michael spotted her; he began walking toward her.

  “Clay—“

  “Don’t even say anything.” He sounded pissed. “I can’t even look at you right now, or I might just hike up that dress and fuck you on one of these tables with the whole room watching and not give one shit.”

  Relief washed over her. He wasn’t upset with her, just the opposite and it held so much promise for the rest of the night that she shivered.

  “I was wondering where you two went. I thought maybe Karz was trying to steal my date.” Michael winked at them as he reached for Roxy’s arm.

  “No stealing, I swear. I’ll wait until you drop her off at home before I come in.” It was probably her imagination, but she would have sworn that Clayton said come in just a bit louder and a bit slower.

  “In your dreams, quarterback, in your dreams.” Michael said as he ushered Roxy back toward the dance floor.

  Looks like his dreams would be coming true then.

  As Roxy looked over Michael’s shoulder as he pulled her close for another dance, Clayton slowly wiped at his mouth smirking at her. To anyone else it would appear to be nothing, but Roxy knew better. Roxy knew that he was showing her he could still smell her on his fingers. Michael might be holding her, but Clayton had done that and so much more.

  Chapter 17

  Clayton awoke far too early for a Saturday. As he slowly took in his surroundings, with the sunlight just creeping in through the blinds, he was somewhat surprised. Roxy was far more girly than she would ever lead one to believe. The master bedroom was simple yet feminine. Her headboard and two dressers, obviously a matching set, were a silver finish with crystal drawer pulls and mirrored tops. Old glamour, you could say. Candles and picture frames adorned the surface space. Black and white photos of Marilyn Monroe hung on the walls in silver frames. It was all so…girly.

  He rested on one arm as he looked at Roxy lost in sleep. He was in her bed, had been mere minutes after his Michael walked her to her door. He had been shocked to find out that Roxy was his friend’s neighbor and had only found that out after she texted him her address; he had left the banquet just after Roxy and Michael. .

  Now, here he was. In the bed that smelled of her so much, he woke up wanting her before he’d even laid eyes on her curvaceous form. Examining her tattoos as she slept kept him fascinated as he listened to her breathe softly. The blue in her hair was illuminated in the sunlight. He wondered if she knew that she was so captivating that she glowed?

  Pushing back some of those dark strands of her hair shielding her face from his view, he tucked them behind her ear. Clayton felt his breath catch when he looked at her face. Long lashes closed, resting on full feminine cheeks, her lips appeared pouty even in sleep. The bottom lip was fuller than the top and so we
lcoming. Freckles speckled her skin between her tattoos. He slowly ran his finger down her neck, sliding across her clavicle, sensually sneaking down her chest so he could lightly pinch her nipple, watching it pucker. He absorbed the amazement of her body and the way it reacted to him instantly. His did the same with her.

  “Morning.” she said, her voice still sleepy. “Are you leaving now?”

  “Not a chance in hell.” he answered.

  She smiled and stretched a very feline like stretch as she remembered how they had spent most of the night in that very bed. Snuggling closer to Clayton, she reveled in the feel of pure contentment. There was no awkward silence, no need to babble on just to fill the space in time. It might be strange to feel so comfortable with the man but she did.

  Her body ached from the last two nights of erotic indulgences but that didn’t stop it from responding to Clayton’s caresses. However, this morning she had something else in mind. He had gifted her with climax after climax with his fingers, his cock, and his tongue. It was about time she reciprocated with some oral attention. After all, one likes to share their talents with others.

  Letting her hand drift downward, Roxy found his cock wide-awake and ready. Stroking him over and over again, she let her fingers tease the underside of the head with her fingers. Hearing his sudden intake of breath made her smile.

  “I want you to take what you want.”

  Stroking his cock, Roxy pulled him up toward her mouth. No need to tell him twice. Clayton straddled her as she lay on her back. With her hands on his ass, she pulled him closer as she practically swallowed him whole. He hadn’t expected that.

  “Jesus!”

  Clayton bumped his groin against her face and she fought her gag reflex. He started thrusting himself in and out of her eager mouth, slowly pulling out then sliding back in, his eyes locked on the porno perfect view below him. He understood this was a gift in more ways than one from his tough girl. Every time Roxy handed herself over to him it humbled him even more.

  “You like this don’t you, beautiful?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “Mmmhmm.” she said around his shaft. Her eyelashes fluttered yet her green eyes held him as if he had no choice.

  Pulling all the way out of her mouth, Clayton spoke with a controlled reverence. “Where do you want me to come?” His breathing was labored and his words, although filthy, were hot as hell.

  “Wherever, just give me your come, Clay.” His eyes showed a fire behind them, he was clearly as turned on as she was. He bent down and kissed her briefly.

  “Anywhere?” He asked as he stroked his cock still refusing to break eye contact with her.

  “Anywhere.” Roxy answered licking her lips.

  “I wanna come on your face, Roxy.” That wasn’t what she expected but the throbbing that ensued in her pussy told her that she wanted that, too.

  She nodded.

  He growled.

  After a few more strokes, Clayton was pushing back into the warm cavern of her mouth. His fingers traced her lips as he slid back and forth. He was way past becoming addicted to those lips of hers. He was already into full-blown junkie mode when it came to her plump lips. Reaching up, Clayton gripped the headboard as he thrust repeatedly into her mouth, each thrust a little harder than the last.

  Knowing he was getting closer to detonation, she wrapped her right hand around his balls, massaging them as they tightened in her grip. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to bring Clayton the pleasure that only an orgasm could. That euphoric feeling. She whimpered, wanting him to lose himself in her, wanting to be the one who took him there—her body, her mouth, just her.

  “Oh yeah, suck me hard.” Grabbing his ass with both hands, she held him as close to her as she could and swallowed over and over. Her mouth filled with the salty taste that was leaking from his shaft.

  Her throat muscles worked him over and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He had tried to last as long as possible, but there was no way he could not come. Tensing up, he pulled out of her mouth and stroked his cock one, two, three times before wave after wave shot out of him like electrical currents.

  “Oh fuck! Roxyyyyyyyy!” he groaned her name as he came. Hot droplets hit her mouth and chin slowly running down her neck as his come made its own path along her creamy skin.

  Taking his finger, Clayton wiped her bottom lip off and held it to her mouth. “Swallow some of me,” he said and she obeyed. Humming, she sucked his finger clean. “Damn, you are so hot, woman.”

  Picking up the white undershirt he had worn under his tux the night before, Clayton wiped her face. All the while stealing kisses here and there.

  It was hard to remember why she shouldn’t be doing this—any of this when she looked at the man. But she wasn’t stupid—the last 48 hours notwithstanding. Only one other time had she dated a patient; even then, she and Kevin lacked the intensity that she had with Clayton Karz. He drove her absolutely crazy, but he happened to drive her absolutely crazy in bed as well.

  This is going to end so badly.

  “Wanna go out for breakfast?”

  His face was too precious, too boy-like, but Roxy knew she had to stop this and do it now. There was no denying they had incredible chemistry in the sack and she wasn’t about to deny wanting to continue proving that fact over and over, but that’s all they could have. Getting herself more deeply involved with Clayton Karz would be hell on her heart and possibly her career. Best to stop that freight train before it derailed.

  “Umm…actually, I better get ready. I have plans today and I’m sure you have things to do. After all, we’ll be kicking up your therapy next week and Gary said that he wants you to get on the field more.” She laughed more out of nerves than anything. “In other words, you won’t have much time for anything else but football and your recovery for more football.”

  Clayton watched—actually watched as Roxy pulled herself away from him. He wasn’t sure why she felt the need to keep him at a distance, but it was clear that was what she was doing. And, he didn’t like it…not one bit.

  Sitting up in bed, she immediately missed the warmth from Clayton’s embrace. Reaching for the now wrinkled white dress shirt he had worn with his tux, Roxy slipped it on and held the front together over her chest and thanked the wardrobe god’s that the man had massive shoulders so the garment covered her at least. The cuffs covered her hands, and the tails hit her mid-thigh. For a brief second, she wondered what Clayton thought of her—not her size nor her curves, he’d made it abundantly clear that he approved there. But of her ink, her tattoos. He hadn’t said much, and she noticed he didn’t have any on him, a rarity today among professional athletes.

  “Fine, no breakfast. Dinner then, seven o’clock, I’ll pick you up here—“

  “I can’t, I’m sorry.” Roxy said as she grabbed a couple things out of her closet and walked into the master bathroom.

  Shutting the door gave her the few seconds to regain her composure she needed. Her first reaction was to agree, say yes to him, but that wouldn’t have been the right thing to do. Hanging her shirt and pants on the hook on the back of the door Roxy opened it just slightly. Peeking out, she saw Clayton was still in her bed and damn, it took all her strength not to run and jump back in there with him.

  “I have dinner plans tonight with a friend. I’ll see you bright and early at the clinic tomorrow, though and be ready, because we are stepping up our game, punk.”

  Okay, so maybe the wink was over the top cheesy but she was reachin’. The last thing Roxy wanted was to turn him down; what was that about anyway? A good lay was one thing, but wanting to spend time with him outside the bedroom a completely different thing.

  He lay there for a minute and became a little more pissed as the seconds passed. First, he had to keep reminding himself that she was pushing him away and not trying to be cold. Secondly, he should be happy for her that she’s new in town and making friends—as long as it isn’t Brooks she’s talking about.

  �
�It’s not Michael is it? This friend.” he asked a closed door.

  No answer.

  “Roxy!” Clayton yelled.

  The bathroom door opened and her face appeared—at least he thought it was her face. Covered in white cream and her hair, including the bit of blue, clipped on top of her head, Roxy glared at him. “What are you yelling about, Karz?”

  Oh yeah, it was definitely her. He smiled.

  “Are you gonna stare at me like a dumb-ass all day or tell me why you’re yelling?” It pissed her off when she lost the battle and found herself smiling back at him. Ugh! She was so screwed and this—rather Clayton would wreak havoc on her already bruised heart. It was the last thing she needed, but now, it was the first thing she’d try to prepare for.

  “What about Michael, Clay?” God, he loved when she called him that. Nobody called him Clay, and this was the first time Roxy had outside of bedroom games. He could get used to hearing it more often…from her.

  “These dinner plans tonight—they’re not with Brooks are they?”

  Jealous much?

  “No. Michael and I aren’t anything more than friends—“

  “Not how it sounded in the locker room.” he regretted the words the moment they slipped from his lips.

  “What?”

  Roxy disappeared into the bathroom again only to reappear twenty seconds later with a wet washcloth wiping the cream from her face. Still dressed in only his shirt, she sat on the edge of the bed next to him and waited for him to answer. She smelled of toothpaste and something flowery that must’ve been in the facial cleanser.

  “It’s just that Brooks was talking about his date to the banquet after practice Friday and how she was all that—“

  Roxy snorted.

  “What are you laughing about?” he asked her.

  “Seriously?”

  “I’m dead serious. Brooks went on and on about how his date was a football goddess with a rockin’ hour glass figure.”

  “You are so full of shit!” She playfully slapped his shoulder as she went to get up but Clayton’s reflexes were definitely above par. He pulled her over him.