Head in the Game (Game Day #1)

by Lily Cahill

  Whittling is one thing, but I’ve almost always replicated something I’ve seen. This is different. The arm feels like a piece of me that I’ve managed to extract, examine, and understand. And the fact that Lilah could see that just amplifies the exhilaration.

  “Riley, stop,” she says, laughing. I spin to a stop and lower her to the floor, intensely conscious of the way her body rubs against mine.

  She doesn’t protest. In fact, her hands are hooked behind my head, while my hands have come to rest on her hips. In the darkening classroom, her eyes seem deep and mysterious. Sad.

  “What is it?” I whisper.

  “I thought I was teaching you something about art,” she whispers back, “broadening your horizons. But it turns out I didn’t teach you anything. You already knew how to carve like this, to create something this beautiful.”

  I dip my head closer to hers. “That’s not true. I never could have done this without you.”

  She looks away, tries to step back, but I hold her fast. “Lilah, without you, I never would have known what I can do. I never would have even tried before you. You make me see the world, instead of just exist in it. You’ve given me so much, in so little time. You’ve taught me who I want to be.”

  “Riley,” she breathes, her eyes like stars. Then she presses her mouth to mine.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Lilah

  THE WAY THAT RILEY’S HANDS clamp on my hips is the most satisfying sensation I have ever felt. No, wait—it’s the way his hands knead and spread, his gloriously talented fingers working my flesh with the same confident prowess he used on his sculpture. Every new movement becomes the most satisfying. Now it’s the way his hands slip up my back, those same long fingers spread between my shoulder blades as I arch against him in pleasure.

  I’ve denied myself for too long, and now I’m starving for him. For weeks, I’ve clung so tightly to the logic declaring we can’t be together. Now, all those arguments are tattered and feeble in my mind. No guilt, no excuses, can withstand my raging desire. I can’t seem to stop wanting this man, and now I’m going to have him.

  Riley tears his mouth from mine. “Tell me to stop. If I do something you don’t want—”

  “Don’t stop,” I say, dragging his head back. “Do anything you want, except stop.”

  With a groan, he kisses me again—wilder this time, nipping at my lips until I open them with a gasp. My mind shuts right off. All I can hear is the pounding of my heart; all I can think is yes and please and more and finally.

  His hands roam freely over the material of my dress, learning the curves of my hips and shoulders. My fingers are tangled in his thick, soft hair, reveling in finally touching him. His smell makes my knees weak—soap and wood and skin. And the heat of him! Like being plastered against a molten volcano.

  But I’m the one who turns to lava when he finally takes my breasts in his hands.

  “Fucking glorious tits,” he mutters as he pulls his mouth from mine so he can watch his hands as they squeezed and stroke my breasts. “So big, so soft.”

  I groan, letting my hands trail down his arms and over his back. So many times I’ve imagined feeling his muscles under his T-shirt, and now the real thing is so much better than I’d dreamed. He is so big and hard and strong, every movement sending muscle rippling under my fingers. His waist, thick with layered abs, tapered from his barrel chest only to swell again at his thick thighs.

  He backs me up until my ass hits my desk, then hoists me up so I’m perched on the very edge. The last, lavender light of day fills the room as Riley steps between my spread thighs. He leans close, his mouth a whisper from mine. “Lilah. You have to tell me what you want.”

  “Touch me,” I say, my voice a desperate whisper.

  “Here?” he says, running a finger down the center of my chest. “Now?”

  “Yes,” I say, reckless with need. “Riley. Please. I can’t wait any longer.”

  His mouth quirks up as he begins to loosen the tie of my wrap dress. “I think you can. You made me wait for weeks. Now it’s my turn.”

  I groan in protest, but Riley only smiles as my dress comes loose with a tug. He hums with appreciation as he pushes the dress off my shoulders. In the soft glow of twilight, he takes me in.

  My black satin bra gleams against my dark skin, showcasing the breasts he likes so much. My soft belly quivers as his gaze travels down to my spread thighs, zeroing in on the red swatch of fabric covering my pussy. “Fuck, Lilah,” he breathes, and his voice is so reverent it sounds like the highest praise.

  He presses my thighs even farther apart, making room for his strong hips. He coaxes my legs up over those hips until my feet—still in heels—are spurring against his ass. I drape my arms over his shoulders, feeling hungry and wanton. “I’ve got a real thing for how you look in a T-shirt, but it’s time to get rid of this one,” I say, plucking at the soft fabric.

  He grins before grabbing the shirt by the hem and pulling it over his head. My hands are on him before the fabric even clears his head. Holy fucking shit. His body is incredible. Heavy and thick, with slabs of muscle folded over each other. I’ve studied the human body, and Riley’s is perfection writ large.

  I run my hands up his chest, flicking his hard nipples with my thumbs. He gasps as I run my hands up over his shoulders, down his massive biceps, exploring every hard ridge of muscle. Riley, meanwhile, is at work on my bra, releasing the multiple hooks of the back clasp. He drops hot kisses over my tattooed arm and shoulder, nipping at my skin as I arch against him.

  When he finally frees my breasts, he takes them with greedy hands. His mouth follows, skimming wild kisses until he finds my nipple and takes it lightly between his teeth. I moan, holding his head closer as I sink my fingers into his thick hair. I’m clinging to him now, trusting that his solid strength can take my weight as I writhe against him.

  When his hand covers my pussy, I throw back my head with a gasp. Something clenches inside me, needy and desperate. “Please,” I manage, my voice breathy and hot.

  Riley straightens, leaving my nipples wet from his mouth. His hair is tousled, his eyes wide with desire, but his teasing grin is back. “Is this what you want?” he asks, tracing a finger down my slit through my soaked panties.

  “Yes,” I moan, biting my lip.

  He slips an arm around my back to support me and pulls me closer. “Do you want my fingers inside you? My mouth on your clit?”

  The words, delivered with his flat, prairie twang, send a shock wave through me. “Yes,” I sob, nearly bucking off the desk.

  His thick fingers shove my thong aside and plunge inside me. He swallows my cry of shock with his mouth, his tongue mimicking the thrust and twists of his finger inside me. Then he slips a second finger in beside the first, stretching me even wider, and my body explodes.

  Riley drops his head to my shoulder as I clench around his hand, coming to completion faster than I ever have before. Before the orgasm subsides, he starts pumping into me again, this time finding my clit with his thumb. I may have screamed, but in this moment I’m too focused on what is happening inside me to know. Riley is kissing me again, our mouths open and avid, my body trembling against him even as I can feel the muscles in his back tightening into rocks.

  With a growl he pulls his fingers from me, and I moan in frustration. With no apparent effort, he hoists me in his arms and carries me to the nearest table, where he lays me down across its surface. He lifts my limp legs, stopping to kiss the inside of my ankle as he tugs off my stretched panties. Desperately eager, I rear up so I can push off his pants.

  “Not yet,” Riley says, angling his hips away from me. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  I moan in frustration. “It’s my turn to make you come.”

  He chuckles, deep in his chest. “Oh, you will. I’m barely holding it together as it is.” He picks up my hand and runs it over the bulge in his pants. “Can’t you feel how much I want you?”

  My eyes pop wide. His c
ock is as big as the rest of him—long and thick under my exploring fingers. But when I try to slip my hand into his pants, he moves away again.

  “Soon,” he says, kneeling down next to the table. “But I want you wet and open and ready, so you can take me.”

  I push myself up on trembling elbows as I watch him settle between my legs. His eyes flick up to mine. “I want to taste you, Lilah. I want to make you come on my tongue.”

  “Jesus, Riley, I never expected you would talk dirty.”

  He nips at my inner thigh as he massages his hands up my legs. “Haven’t I already defied all your expectations?”

  My laughter chokes off in my throat when he strokes my pussy with those big fingers, opening me to him. He keeps his eyes on mine as he lowers his head.

  The first long lick makes me gasp. The second makes me quake. Then his fingers slip inside me as his mouth finds my clit, and I surrender to the volcano he is stoking inside me.

  When the orgasm hits, it’s in a wave so strong that my back arches up off the table. My legs are wrapped around Riley’s shoulders, my fingers in his hair, my body undulating with passion. I ride the energy of it, struggling to sit up and tug Riley’s mouth to mine. I can taste myself all over him, and it only makes me hotter. “Now, Riley, now. I need you inside me now.”

  Night has fallen completely, but my eyes are adjusted enough to see that Riley’s eyes have gone feral with need. “I’ve got a condom in my gym bag.”

  I nod, reluctant to let him go but eager to have him back. He kicks off his shoes as he stumbles to where he’s left his bag, stripping off his socks with an abandon that makes me laugh. He leaves his athletic pants in a pile and starts to shove off his boxer briefs, but stops when I call his name. “I want to do that.”

  My legs are still weak, but I manage to stand and saunter over to him, wearing only my heels. He has all but reduced me to a puddle, and now it’s time to return the favor. “Let me touch you first,” I whisper, laying my hands on his hot skin.

  He holds still, the condom in one hand, as I circle him.

  “Look at this body,” I murmur, running my hands down his back to his muscular ass. I massage his tightly-clenched cheeks as I dash kisses over his shoulder blades. I lay my head against his strong back, running my hands around his hips. I can hear his heart pounding as I push down his boxers with one hand and take his massive cock into the other.

  He hisses out a breath as I stroke him. “You’re driving me crazy,” he groans, arching his back to look over his shoulder at me.

  I smile into his back. “You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for weeks. I have a lot of exploring to do.”

  He groans again, but holds still as I slink around his body, my hands never leaving his skin. “I thought you wanted me inside you.”

  “I do.” In the dark, standing in the center of his naked desire, I feel bold and hungry. “But I want to taste you, too. Do you want that, Riley?”

  His voice is raspy. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

  “Why don’t we find out?” I say as I sink to my knees in front of him.

  When I take his cock in my mouth, he groans low and deep. He is so big, I can’t take him all, but I compensate by wrapping both hands around his length. I use my tongue to stroke his sensitive head and feel him twitch in my hands.

  “Nope, can’t take it,” he says with a gasp, pulling me to my feet. “If I let you do that much longer I’m going to lose control.”

  “We’ll try again later,” I say with a devious smile.

  That’s when I realize—there will be a later. There is no way that once will be enough with him. I won’t be able to walk away.

  Riley sits in a chair, his legs spread wide, and pulls me closer until I’m straddling his hips. “You’re in control,” he says as he rolls the condom over his cock. “Go as slow as you want. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I look down at him then—his strong body, his serious face, his generous and gentle heart. The sensation that rolls through me is more than desire, more than the helpless yearning I’ve been trying to ignore for weeks. It’s something richer than that, sweeter, and a thousand times more addictive.

  I lean down to kiss him as I settle his cock at the entrance to my pussy. Then I pull back so I can see his eyes as I sink down onto him.

  Our twin moans echo in the dark room. He is big, stretching me wide, but I’m so slick that I welcome him. I slowly pump, my thighs burning as I take inch after inch. Riley buries his face in my breasts, licking and sucking at my nipples and sending jolts of sensation rocketing through me. Then he’s fully inside me, so deep I can barely breathe.

  Slowly, I begin to rock and swirl my hips. Riley gasps, subtly moving his hips so he feels even deeper, even bigger. Slowly, my rocking becomes rising, becomes stroking, as I steadily increase the speed until I’m thrusting against him.

  I kiss him desperately, but we are both so wild by now we can barely breathe. His hands are on my ass, helping me to thrust and also spreading me wide. And he’s thrusting back now, his cock touching places inside me I didn’t even know exist. My thighs are shaking, my nails digging into his shoulders where I hold on for leverage, as the sensations inside me swirl, spin, then roar into a tornado.

  I cry out with orgasm, but Riley won’t let me stop. He braces his feet against the ground, holding me up under my thighs as he pumps into me. I cry out again with each thrust, spiraling ever higher, every part of me trembling and burning and glowing. Words are spilling from my lips, pleas and praise mix with his name, and then he slips one hand between us to rub my clit and I’m gone again, lost in the abyss of pleasure.

  Dimly, I feel Riley shudder beneath me, hear his deep groan. He freezes, gasps, and digs his fingers into my skin as he comes. Then he collapses back in the chair, and I feel absurdly triumphant that I made his strong body weak with satisfaction. I curl into him, resting my head on his shoulder with his hard cock still inside me. Right now, despite everything, I’m exactly where I want to be.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Riley

  “LILAH,” I MURMUR. I’M TRACING her tattoos with my fingers, tickling her skin.

  “Hmmm?” she replies, her head still resting on my chest.

  “This feels amazing, but I’m afraid we’re going to break this chair.”

  Her head whips up. “Oh,” she cries, scrambling off of me. “I didn’t—did we—”

  I stand and pull her to me, not wanting to lose the connection. We both look at the chair. It was one of the standard classroom jobs, a plastic bucket seat with a C-shaped metal base. But now, that C-shape has been crushed into a U.

  Lilah gapes at me. “Did we just fuck that chair into a different shape?”

  “Looks like it,” I say, comparing it to another chair that is discernibly less bent.

  “Oh my God,” she says, embarrassment tinging her voice. “What are we going to do?”

  I grin at her. “I’m taking it. As a souvenir.”

  She frowns, suddenly professorial even though she’s totally naked. “That’s school property.”

  “Not anymore. This is a piece of history. The chair where Lilah Stone came in my arms. Maybe I’ll have it bronzed.”

  “Riley.”

  “Lilah,” I say, mimicking her hands-on-hips stance. I can’t help feeling goofy—I can’t remember ever being this happy. “Are you going to let some unsuspecting student sit where my naked butt has been?”

  I surprise a laugh out of her, which turns into a long, rolling giggle. I gather her up in my arms, loving the way her smiling face tips up at me. “I need hash browns,” I say, “if I’m going to have the energy to damage more furniture with you later.”

  Her laugh tapers off as she lifts her hands to my chest. “Riley. We should talk.”

  “We will. Over hash browns.”

  She bites her lip, nods. She makes that lip look so soft and plush that I want to kiss her again, so I do—delighted that I can kiss her now, I don’t have
to restrict myself or pretend I don’t want her. Her naked body is warm under my hands, so thrillingly close. The scent of her perfume has soaked into my skin, and I know I will still smell her later, when I’m alone. Not that I want to be alone. Not that I ever want to be without her.

  When we have tracked down all of our clothes, I snag the chair with a raised eyebrow. Lilah shakes her head disbelievingly, then shrugs.

  “I’ll get your piece back to you in a few days,” Lilah says, nodding at the wooden arm that still lay on my worktable.

  “Sure. So, tell me teacher, did I earn an A?”

  She pushes her hands into her mohawk, fluffing it up as she gives me a sultry look. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m going to have to see some more of your work.”

  I can’t resist pulling her against me, covering that pouting mouth with mine. “Don’t worry. I’ve still got plenty to show you.”

  Once I’ve ordered—easily three times as much food as Lilah—I sit back in the booth and smile. The last few times we’ve come here, we’ve both been scrupulously polite, carefully keeping our legs from brushing under the table. But now Lilah’s feet are tangled with mine, her knee brushing the inside of my thigh. I no longer have to spend half the meal trying not to fantasize about the tattoo hidden under her top. I know it now; I’ve run my mouth over it, tasted the bright roses and darker thorns she chose to ink on her skin.

  I adjust in my seat. It seems I’m still going to spend half the meal fantasizing about her naked body. Now, at least I don’t have to hide it.

  “So I’m thinking after this, we should go back to your place and try to break your bed.”

  She coughs into her coffee, then looks up at me with merriment in her eyes. “I’m sure my grandmother would love that.”

  “Right, your grandmother. Well, I’m not particularly attached to the bed in my dorm room.”

  She curls her lip. “Like I’m going to break furniture with you with a dozen football players right outside.”