by S. E. Harmon
“Fuck, Kel, you want me to say it?” His voice was equal parts frustrated and aroused. “I’ve been thinking about riding your dick since I first saw you in that fucking suit.”
“Yeah?” I crooked my fingers inside of him, and he bucked up with a curse. “Is that so?”
Even when I knew he was ready, I held back. Even when he was breathing hard and pink-cheeked with arousal, even when he was moving his hips to meet the thrust of my fingers. And when I ducked my head and took his dick in my mouth, he finally cried out a soft, broken “please” that I couldn’t ignore.
Sliding inside him was like coming home, and we both sighed with the pleasure of it. I took a moment to just stare at his face, his dilated gaze intent on mine. After all this time, I was still blown away that he trusted me enough to do this, to share this with him. It made me feel unspeakably tender, and it was a moment before I could continue.
I brushed his nose with mine, and he wrinkled his. “Really? Are we truly that sappy yet?”
“Yes,” I said firmly and took his mouth with mine.
Long after we finished and sweat was cooling on our skin, I lay sprawled on top of him. He idly carded his hand through my hair as we watched the muted TV. Or maybe it watched us—I couldn’t really say what was on or how long I’d been staring at it.
“Do we have to go back?” I asked, not expecting an answer.
“And you said I’d make a horrible father?” Blue chuckled. “We have to go back, if, for nothing else, Waffles’s sake.”
“She loves the boarding place.” I huffed an amused puff of air across his skin that made him shiver. “We can get her and come back.”
He didn’t answer my nonsense and stroked my hair lightly. I was almost asleep when he said, “My bye week is coming soon. I think a week of vacation is just what we need.”
I disagreed, but I didn’t say anything as I listened to his steady heartbeat. This was all we needed. His hand drifted down to my neck, and I leaned into his touch like a lazy cat. He ran those clever hands down my back—just a light, knowing touch that knew all the right places to linger. A groan escaped my mouth, and just like that, I was ready all over again.
He gripped my ass firmly. Guess I wasn’t the only one. The heady feeling of want strummed through my body, wild and insatiable—greedy.
His voice was a soft whisper near my ear. “My turn.”
He stilled me when I started to slide off and arranged my legs the way he wanted them, one on either side of his upraised knees. I brought my hands down next to his face as I leaned forward. When he started to play with my hole with clever, dexterous fingers, I closed my eyes with a sigh of pleasure. “Think it’ll always be like this?”
“As long as it’s you and me?” He kissed his way down my neck and made sure to pay careful attention to my secret spot, right behind my ear. “You can pretty much count on it.”
CHAPTER 17
Kelly
THE DAY we left for the lake house was sunny and bright, as though even Mother Nature approved of our vacation choice. We were headed four or five hours up the panhandle, slightly past the Central Florida area, which made our vacation a mini road trip too. For once, Blue didn’t have on a stitch of Outlaws or Nike gear. He came out of the front door in some khaki shorts, a pale blue polo shirt, and white Vans. He had a pair of aviators firmly over his eyes and a Dodgers ball cap on his head. If he looked any readier for vacation, he’d be on a travel brochure.
I wasn’t much better in my plaid shorts and white V-neck tee with a pair of black thong sandals. As he passed me with his luggage, I snagged the ball cap off his head and put it on mine. He stuck out his tongue but let me make off with it.
Working as a seamless unit, we efficiently loaded his SUV. Blue had volunteered his vehicle for the trip—mostly because he was a sucker who didn’t care about mileage—so I knew we’d be comfortable. The big black Navigator had all the bells and whistles to make a long road trip bearable. I’d already informed him that I’d probably spend some time in the back seat, making use of the TVs in the headrests.
I secured Waffles’s harness to a dog seat belt, and she, disinterested in our shenanigans, promptly curled up in the seat. She tucked her nose under her tail and closed her eyes, and I shook my head fondly. She might just be the only dog on Earth who had no interest in hanging her head out a car window.
I let down a few windows while Blue finished loading our luggage in the back. “You’re not going to donate this car when you get the MVP truck this year, are you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you did it two times before.” He’d won twice over the years, and both times he donated his old car to a local charity. “I think you should donate the one you win, and we should keep this one.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve already got me in the Super Bowl and winning MVP? Way to support your man, baby.”
I shrugged. “Think big. That should be on a T-shirt.”
“Pretty sure it already is.”
“Then I should buy that shirt,” I declared.
He closed the trunk with a chuckle. “Get your ass in the car, Kelly.”
After a short rock-paper-scissors battle for who would drive first—he won—we were off. When he picked the lake house to spend his bye week, I mocked him at first. It wasn’t exactly exotic or exciting, but secretly I was kind of glad. When you only had one week of vacation in a busy season, the last thing you wanted to do was spend half that week traveling. Airports, customs, and security lines were not exactly my idea of relaxing. The lake house was a perfect compromise. It was less than a day away—far enough to seem like a getaway, but close enough that we didn’t have to waste half the trip getting there.
I was more than a little excited… giddy, even. It was going to be just the two of us—no football for him, no teaching for me, no NFL, no conferences, no quizzes to grade. Just me and Blue in a house by the lake. I didn’t know what we’d do with ourselves.
I planned to put sunscreen on every inch of his body. I was also going to convince him to wear the tiny swimsuit I’d bought and snuck into my suitcase. And of course there would be blowjobs, handjobs, and sex on the dock.
Let’s just say I’d had worse vacations.
I relaxed as he drove, made idle chatter, and stared out the window. The farther we got, the farther apart the exits became. Before long the constant signs for rest stops and restaurants also thinned out, and the scenery gave way to mostly trees.
I played car DJ for a while until Blue threatened to take away my privileges for playing too much alternative music. In response to that, I put on “It’s Been Awhile” by Staind. At his heartfelt groan, I sent him an affronted look. “This is one of my favorite songs.”
“It’s got a nice beat and everything, but it’s kind of grim. A little depressing, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think.”
“This is the soundtrack to suicide, Kel.”
I belted him in the arm, and he pretended it hurt. “I have a soft spot for this song, and I associate it with my first tattoo. I was in a grungy little shop with some white dude with dreads who freehanded a diving bird on my arm.”
“You don’t have a diving bird on your arm.” He glanced over at me a couple times, as though he wanted to examine my arm thoroughly. “I’ve explored every inch of your body, and I’ve never seen a diving bird.”
“It’s hidden in this clockwork piece.” I looked down at my arm with a small smile. “I had some other guy fix all the little random tattoos and incorporate them into this piece. That bird with the outstretched wings is now the dial on one of the watches.”
“I’m going to want to look at that,” he said darkly, as though affronted that he didn’t know something about me. “So you’re in a grungy tattoo parlor and….”
“And he’s freehanding this tattoo, and I’m thinking, ‘Man, this isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.’ The feeling wavered between a sharp buzz and dull pain, and the
n even the pain started to feel kind of good. Then that song came on over the speakers, and I thought, ‘Fuck, this just might be the coolest thing I’ve ever done.’”
“Maybe I should get another this week, something in homage to you, of course. Or the Outlaws.”
Blue caught the tattoo bug earlier this year, when a tattoo parlor opened up across from our favorite bar. After a month of hemming and hawing, he finally decided to get a small tattoo of the Outlaw logo on his upper arm. I warned him that tattoos could be addictive, but he laughed me off. It took two weeks for him to want another, his jersey number, and his blank canvas slowly became art. He still had a long way to go before he caught up with my clockwork sleeve.
“Good to know I rank right up there with your precious football team.” He laughed, and I smiled. Sometimes I couldn’t get over how easy it was when it was just the two of us. He glanced at my expression and then turned his gaze back to the road. “What?”
“Nothing. You just look… relaxed.”
“I am. I’ve got you and an entire week of vacation. Hell, I’m not sure there’s even going to be enough time to do all the things I want to do.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“I want to take the boat out, of course. Paddleboating? Maybe we could even use the WaveRunners.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, and let’s not forget some of those gorgeous hiking trails.”
I slid him a sideways look. That itinerary was a little more… outdoorsy than I was looking forward to. “Of course there’ll still be time for other things,” I hinted.
“Of course.” He sent me a wide-eyed look that was two parts mischief and one part innocence. “I thought we’d go swimming too.”
“Naked things, Blue,” I clarified. “I want to do naked things.”
He laughed. “You just want me for my body, don’t you?”
“Pretty much. And damn you for making me say it aloud,” I said indignantly.
I put on some 3 Doors Down, but when he looked tortured, I relented and put on something country. Some singer sang to us about a truck and a dog and a cheating wife as I trailed my fingers out the window and the wind blew over my hand. I had some good alternative-music memories, but damn if those country songs weren’t getting some play too.
WE MADE a pit stop for gas and went by four restaurants before we saw one with outdoor seating. The place was nothing special, but they had food and let us bring Waffles on the patio, which was good enough for us.
The waitress came over to greet us and take our orders before we even got settled. She made kissy noises and baby-talked Waffles while we looked at our menus, and Waffles luxuriated in the attention. She wagged her tail madly as she tried to get closer to the waitress, but I’d put the open loop of her leash around my chair leg, so she could only go so far.
“Oh, she’s so darling. I wish I weren’t working so I could pet her.” Our waitress—Anne, according to her name tag—clucked her tongue. “So have you guys decided? What can I get y’all? Our special today is the deep-fried macaroni-and-cheese bacon burger.”
That was pretty much all my favorite things smashed between a bun. “That’s what I want, that exact thing.”
“Milkshake?”
“Marry me?”
She grinned. “Strawberry, chocolate, or vanilla, hon?”
“Strawberry. Super thick. Large.” I folded my menu happily and handed it to her, and she put it under her arm. When I glanced over at Blue, he gave me the stink eye. I expelled an annoyed breath. “Small, I mean.”
“We only make them in large, sweetie.”
“No, really. Marry me?”
Anne laughed and turned to Blue. “What about you, handsome?”
“Turkey club on whole wheat,” he said. He gave her his folded menu. “A side of fries and an ice water. And can you add another water and a side salad to his order?”
“Will do.”
When she walked away, I jostled his foot with mine. “You put a serious cramp in my enjoyment of food. When we weren’t together, you let me eat what I wanted.”
“I still cared,” he retorted. “I just didn’t have any right to tell you what to eat… at the time.”
“You still don’t.”
“I beg to differ.” He reached down and ruffled Waffles’s ears. “Your future is tied with mine now. It’s the same reason I let you give me a thirty-minute lecture on the relationship between football and concussions in the shower last night, which, just so you know, was not good times.”
“You’re lucky it wasn’t an hour. I had more to say before you squirted me with shampoo.”
“My point is that you get a say in what I do, and I get a say in what you do.”
“What?” I squawked. “How is that fair?”
“I’m planning on living a very long time, but there’s no point if you’re not going to be there.” He shrugged. “So you choose for both of us. Death by bacon, or do we try to live past forty?”
I shut my complaining mouth. There really wasn’t much to say to that. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“That I am.”
I slid my sandal over to fondly kick his shoe. I didn’t care if he was a food drill sergeant. He was all mine. “I’m glad we’re here.”
“So am I, and just imagine,” he drawled, “if we lived together, we could do this kind of thing all the time.”
I started to smile until I saw the seriousness lurking in his expression. It boded an uncomfortable discussion that I wasn’t entirely ready to have. He cocked an eyebrow as discomfort crept over my expression.
I pushed out of my chair and mumbled, “Bathroom.” And I didn’t look back as I headed inside, but I could feel Blue’s mocking gaze on my back.
By the time I returned, there were two guys standing by our table talking animatedly with Blue, and I held in a sigh. No offense to all of Blue’s hard work, but I could live without all the NFL fandemonium spilling over into our real lives. I plopped back down in my seat and nodded through Blue’s cursory introductions. Their names went in and out of my ears, and they certainly didn’t bother to remember mine. I might as well have been a stick for all the attention his fanboys paid me.
By the time I finished my plate and half of Blue’s fries, another guy drifted up with a shirt for Blue to sign. Blue obliged, still chatting pleasantly with the others. They were total dude bros who seemed to have an opinion on every team in the freaking league. I scowled at Blue’s full plate. He’d barely eaten anything because he was so busy giving out experiences to fans who didn’t seem to realize he was a real fucking person.
I stood up again and went to go pay the check. Anne rang me up on an old register that made a sound suspiciously like a cough when the money drawer kicked open. “Can I get you something else, hon?” She handed me back my change and receipt.
“A turkey club on whole wheat.”
At least I could get Blue something to go, something that hadn’t been talked over by—I glanced at the table—five strangers. By the time Anne handed me my bag, they were all taking turns crowding around the table to take selfies.
I milled about in the gift shop and looked at kitschy knickknacks I had no particular use for. I wound up near a wall of candy, where I spent an inordinate amount of time picking out uniquely flavored peppermint sticks for my father and a couple of cutesy jars of preserves for my mother. Then I got a whole bunch of old-school hard candy that I wasn’t even sure I liked, to keep my tongue company for the rest of the ride. When I was done paying, I glanced back in the dining area, and Blue still wasn’t done.
I went back over to get Waffles and then headed for the car. As I let her explore a grassy area in front of the restaurant and then decorate it with urine, I battled with my irritation. I understood that he was one of the football greats, and most of the time, I dealt with that just fine. But it was supposed to be our week, our time. I put up with a lot, and I’d earned it. I planned to guard it jealously.
Since I’d forgotten the keys and wasn’t ab
out to go back in there, I put my packages on the hood of the SUV. Then I leaned my butt against the car and unwrapped a large ball of peppermint as Waffles watched me raptly.
I don’t know what I really expected—Blue was recognized everywhere. Had I really expected we’d get to hold hands and walk down the street because we weren’t in our hometown?
I stuck the candy in my mouth and shoved the wrapper in my pocket. I wasn’t even sure why I needed that so much. Who cared if we couldn’t be together in public? He was still mine, and I was still his. No amount of PDA was going to change that. Maybe if I kept saying it to myself, I’d start to believe it.
I saw him coming as he crossed the tiny parking lot and made sure to fix my face, as my mother used to call it. My face fell naturally into scowling lines, and I couldn’t even count how many times my mother told me to “fix my face” when I was a kid. I became adept at faking a pleasant expression.
That skill came in handy as I smiled at Blue. “You ready?”
“Sorry about that,” he apologized. “But I can’t just tell them to get lost because I’m busy with my boyfriend.”
“Of course.”
He looked at my face searchingly. Then he furrowed his brow. “I said I’m sorry.”
“I heard you.”
“People don’t understand that you might be busy or having an off day. This is the first time and maybe only time they’ll ever meet you, and then they carry that impression with them from then on. A couple wrong words, and Blue Montgomery is a big jerk who doesn’t have time for fans.”
“I understand.” I bumped his shoulder. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“Then why are you mad?”
“What? Don’t be absurd.”
“Am I? Being absurd? You only start using words like that when you’re lying.” He frowned. “Not to mention the rest of your face is smiling, but your eyes aren’t.”
Fuck, why did he know me so well? I sighed. “I’m not mad at you. If that helps. I’m just… I don’t know. I’m selfish. I want you to myself for a little while.”