by Kim Karr
But I couldn’t allow what was going to happen in the weeks to come bring me down. I wanted this time alone with him too much to let anything bring me down.
Those finely sculpted abs of his came into view and I licked my lips, recalling how I traced over every inch of them last night, first with my finger, and then my tongue.
We’d stayed up way too late doing all the things he had imagined during the day, and more.
It was around one in the afternoon now and we’d just eaten breakfast or lunch or whatever you wanted to call it at a diner down the road.
We were alone, and I loved it.
No one knew we were here, and we had nothing to worry about. My father had gone up to Lake Forest for the weekend. He never even asked me if I wanted to go. Just asked me if I would be okay. Of course I told him I had things to keep me busy, and not to worry. It wasn’t like him, but maybe he was trying to let me go in his own way.
Very comfortable where I was, I watched him from behind the lenses of my new red plastic sunglasses. They had a strawberry on each corner, and Lucas had purchased them for me at the tourist shop attached to the restaurant, along with two rafts for us to float in the lagoon.
I paddled toward him when he started to stride into the water, watching as the muscles in his legs disappeared beneath the surface of the water.
“Here you go,” he said, handing me the plastic cup, letting his fingertips linger a moment before letting go.
Flipping up my sunglasses, I took a sip. “Mmmm . . . that’s so good. Such service,” I said squinting against the sun. “I could get used to this.”
He leaned on his blue plastic raft and let his tongue sneak out. “I could interpret that statement a few different ways.”
I splashed him with some water before quickly using one hand to paddle away. “I meant being waited on . . . perv.”
His enigmatic grin told me he liked when I called him that. “You could hire a houseboy once you start working.”
“You know, that isn’t a bad idea.”
“He could serve you lemonade, but I bet he couldn’t do you the way I do,” he quipped, and then plunged under, leaving his hand above water so the cup didn’t spill.
Floating away, I giggled and wiggled my toes against the sun-warmed plastic. When he came up, he shook himself the way a dog does when coming out of the water and I laughed even harder.
My skin was already warm from the sun, but suddenly I felt really hot. I sucked down the lemonade in a few huge gulps. When I looked back up, Lucas was on his raft, propelling toward me. Gone from his hand was his cup. I saw it lying in the sand.
He came close and anchored his raft to mine by throwing his leg over it. “So tell me more about this houseboy job. What exactly would he do for you?”
I flipped my sunglasses back down and closed my eyes as I imagined all the things Lucas had done to me. “Well,” I said, opening my eyes and looking over at him. “He would do the laundry, and mop, and maybe even wash my car, and then when he was done, he could strip out of his clothes and get on his knees to wait for me to decide if he should be rewarded for his efforts or not.”
Lucas snorted under his breath. “Sounds like you’re a dominatrix who’s been hiding in the closet.”
I waited a moment before going on. I could say all kinds of dirty things under this guise, but when I looked into those languid blue eyes, what came out of my mouth instead was, “No, not at all. I was just kidding. I kind of like it when the guy takes control. I think it’s hot.”
The look he flashed me told me to watch out.
I gripped the sides of my raft, but it was too late. He’d already lunged for me, and together we went under. I screamed and took in water.
Strong hands grabbed me around the waist and pulled me upward. “What was that for?” I spurted, trying not to laugh.
“Payback for earlier.”
“Payback?”
“Yes, now stop the teasing, Gillian.”
I flung my arms around his neck and kissed his mouth. “Oh, come on, you know I can’t stop, it’s way too fun.”
He nipped at my lip. “For you, maybe. Do it again and I might just have to spank you,” he practically growled when he spoke, and then he gave me a warning smack on my butt.
Arousal hummed through my veins. Need, a craving for him that felt stronger than ever, seemed to possess my soul, and I had to get it in check. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I murmured, and then swam back to my raft, where I climbed back on.
The cup I had been holding was floating away and he grabbed it, tossing it to the sand beside his before climbing back on his raft.
We floated in silence for a while. The sun warmed me, and as it did, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, how much I loved being with him. How much I—I refused to think about that. We’d both said we’d let that word go.
The fact that Lucas and I got to sleep beside each other for one more night gave me the strength to stay like this and not ask him to go inside and fuck me.
I wanted this time to just be. To take advantage of the short time we had left. Then again, there was more to us now than just sex. I wasn’t sure how that happened, but it had.
When he floated close to me again, I took hold of his raft this time. “We don’t do much of this,” I murmured.
He glanced at me over his Raybans. “Much of what?”
“This . . . nothing.”
A hand on my thigh followed the soft chuckle. “You mean when we’re alone we’ve usually got our hands all over each other.”
I smiled over at him, and then pushed away to float further out. “Yes, I guess that’s what I mean.”
He paddled in my direction. “I’m happy to oblige right now.” Pulling his raft close to mine again, he said, “If that’s what you want.”
There was no denying the tingle that zapped through my body or my instant reaction to the idea of going back inside. I smiled slowly. “I’m not saying I don’t want that too, I just mean other than meeting at the bridge, we never have time to just be.”
Lucas leaned over and kissed my mouth, then said against my lips, “I know what you mean.”
He did know, and there was nothing more to say about it.
I closed my eyes and left it that way because if I went on, I had no idea what I’d say, but I knew it wouldn’t be anything he wanted to hear.
Then again, did it really matter what I said when this thing between us would be ending so soon?
CALLING THE PLAY
Gillian
TAKING NAPS HAD never been my thing, but right now I didn’t mind them one bit.
A hard male body was wrapped solidly around me as I came awake, and it belonged to the man who’d said he didn’t do cuddling. Perhaps he and I had a different definition of the word, or perhaps he did do cuddling, he just hadn’t realized it.
Between staying up late last night and being out in the sun most of the afternoon, I had felt worn out. So when Lucas asked me if I wanted to go for a run, I had declined and while he was gone I decided to lie down. I meant to just close my eyes for a few minutes, but I guess I had fallen asleep.
When I fluttered my eyelids open, I saw that at least it was still light outside. I twisted around to see him.
His eyes were on me.
He was watching me.
I smiled at him.
Having changed out of my bathing suit, I’d slipped into his T-shirt after I’d come inside. I smelled like suntan oil and the sun. He, on the other hand, smelled of soap from a fresh shower, and was completely naked.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep on you,” I said, stretching and pushing my body back against his.
He pushed aside the length of my hair so he could press his mouth to the back of my neck. “I know how you can make it up to me,” he whispered as his hand curled over my hip.
I didn’t say anything right away. I didn’t have to. I wiggled against him in a way that was definitely going to cause a reaction, and then I finally spoke. “What did you have in
mind?”
He slipped his hand lower, over the softness of my belly.
“Mmmm.”
His hand moved lower still to the heat between my legs. It only took one small, inquiring stroke of his finger to see just how ready for him I was.
“You didn’t answer me.” My voice was husky and low.
When he didn’t answer, I twisted around. With a gleam in his eye, he crooked a finger at me and then scooted down the bed a bit. “Crawl up and put your knees on either side of my head,” he instructed.
“Are you sure?”
He pressed his thumb to my clit in a way that sent a tendril of desire curling through me.
“Sure. If you insist.”
Not only could I lose myself in the sound of his throaty chuckle, but the feel of his skin against mine drove me wild. Bold and ready, I climbed up his hard body and rocked up on my knees.
Just as I was about to lower myself to his mouth, he put a hand on my waist to stop me. “Use your hand and spread your pussy for me,” he said huskily. “I want my tongue over every inch of you.”
When I spoke, my voice was ragged. “Lucas, I can’t do that.”
“Gillian.”
That one word sounded more like an order and it cut right to my core. I lifted the shirt over my head and then slid my hand slowly down my belly.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled, his eyes glued on me.
Sexy.
No one had ever called me that, either. Athletic, fit, tone, cute even, but never sexy. He had a way about him that made me feel special, and I didn’t even think he knew what he was doing.
Wanting to give him whatever I could of myself, I parted myself for him. As soon as I did, he grabbed my hips with both his hands. His grip was hard and he slammed me down onto his mouth with a force I would never have done on my own.
He ate me like he was a starving man. Licking, feasting, sucking, sliding his tongue inside me and all over me.
Devouring me like this, he very quickly worked me into a mindless frenzy. Before I knew what I was doing, I was riding his face like it was his cock. When he pressed a finger to my clit, I bucked and writhed as waves of pleasure rushed through me.
Exploding into his mouth, I came all over his face.
There was nothing I wouldn’t do with him. I trusted him. I loved him. As I thought it, I knew I shouldn’t, but it was hard not to. I sagged downward trying to expel that feeling and then rolled to the side so I didn’t smother him.
His lips glistened with the evidence of my arousal and he ran his tongue over them, tasting me once more. “Get back up on your knees,” he murmured, pulling me on top of him. “I want you to do that again, but this time on my cock.”
I smiled down at him. “I’m not sure I can move right now.”
He gave me that easy smile that first caught my eye and slid one finger inside and then pulled it back out. “I think you can manage, but I’ll help you if I need to.”
A thrill began low in my belly and fanned throughout my chest. I already knew how easy it was to lose myself in him, what I didn’t know was how easy it was to imagine I belonged to him.
His cock surged upward and he reached down to grasp it with one hand and took hold of my waist with the other. He was ready. I lowered myself down, giving him the very heart of my being.
I leaned forward to kiss him and my tongue darted into his mouth, stroking tentatively and then harder when he did the same.
The help he provided was in the way of positioning both of his hands at my waist and thrusting upward. Like that he held me in place as he arched and withdrew. Faster. Harder. Rougher.
Back in sitting position, I arched back, changing the angle.
His hips lifted, thrusting into me harder, as sweet pleasure caused my thighs to squeeze around him.
I couldn’t believe it when pleasure started to sweep through me. I was coming again, and this time in a hurried, frenzied rush. Everything became Lucas. Every breath, every pulse, every second. Images of him flashed through my mind as I shook with my orgasm. “Oh, God,” I cried.
He groaned. “Gillian.”
At the sound of my name I sat straight up and stared down at him. With pleasure still sweeping though me, I ran my nails up his chest to hold onto his shoulders. He groaned again, calling out my name over and over as he erupted inside me. Hot, spurting deep into my body, he pulled me even closer onto his cock until there was no space between us.
Lucas laid there a long moment, his cock still pulsing and twitching inside me. I loved how it felt. A moment later he cupped my face and then kissed me softly, a direct contradiction to the way he’d just fucked me. “I should probably feed you,” he panted.
That was the first time since waking up I glanced at the clock. It was almost seven. I rolled off him and sat on the mattress, my toes sneaking under the covers. I hated that I’d slept some of our few precious hours away. “You mean I should probably feed you,” I smirked. “With all this sex, you have to keep your strength for tomorrow or you won’t make it through the day.”
He pushed himself onto one elbow and stifled a yawn. “You don’t see me complaining.”
I untangled myself and slipped on his shirt, then padded over to the kitchen where I opened the refrigerator. “Do you want to go out or stay in? But if we stay in, it has to be breakfast for dinner.”
The sound of bare feet on wood alerted me that he’d gotten out of bed. “Let’s go outside before it gets dark and throw the ball around. And then I’m happy to stay in or go out. Your choice.”
By the time I turned around, he’d pulled on his jeans and thrown a baseball cap on his head. “You want to play football with me?”
Taking a football out of his bag, he started for the door. “Sure, unless everything you told me about how good you are was just hot air.”
“It was not hot air!” I said, scurrying to pull a pair of shorts out of my bag.
He was already out the door before I’d gotten myself decent.
Hurrying outside, I found him sitting on the lawn, staring down at the ball gripped tightly in his hand. I flopped beside him. “Penny for your thoughts.”
Those blue eyes darted in my direction. “Do you think it will be easier for us if we start the process of letting this thing go between us when we get back to camp tomorrow morning?”
The words were unexpected and I sucked in a breath, unable to answer him. I’d never been blindsided, but I felt like I had just then.
His eyes were still on the ball. “I mean I feel like the more time we spend together, the harder it’s going to be.”
Exhaling, I fought to stop from screaming at him. Did he really think we were something he could just turn on and off?
“Don’t you think?” he asked flipping the ball around in his palms.
Silence.
He glanced over at me.
More silence.
“Gillian.”
I was at a disadvantage because I hadn’t been thinking like that at all. In fact, I was thinking the very polar opposite. I swallowed, and then swallowed one more time before I spoke. “I think it’s going to be hard either way.”
This time he was silent.
“What if things don’t end?”
His head snapped in my direction and for the first time since I sat beside him he made full eye contact. “You know they have to.”
“Why do they have to?” I bit out my words.
His features drew together in a hard, chiseled way. “Because your father will more than likely freak the fuck out, and I’ll be left in a situation I don’t want to be in come this fall. Because you have school to get back to and a job to start after, and neither includes the Bears. And because, Gillian, that isn’t the plan.”
I wanted to be dignified about this, but I also wanted to scream, “Fuck the plan.”
His expression softened, but he was still guarded. “And a thousand other reasons why,” he tacked on.
I nodded stiffly, wondering wha
t those thousand reasons were, but not wanting to ask. “Well,” I said, my voice a little weak, “if I have a say in the way things are going to end, I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can before they do.”
He nodded. “Okay, but I think we need to start the process of letting go.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not see each other for a while.”
“A while?”
“Yeah, a while.”
What did that mean? We only had two weeks left. My throat burned with unshed tears. “If that’s what you want.”
Standing up, he offered his hand. “It’s not what I want, but I think it’s for the best.”
Up on my own two feet, the ground felt shaky beneath me. “I understand.”
The conversation was left open-ended, and it was probably for the best. There was a forced smile on his face when he raised the ball. “Now show me your stuff.”
I forced a smile too and backed up so he could throw me the ball. We played a mock game for almost thirty minutes, and the whole time Lucas pretended to be the announcer. I think he was trying to lighten up the mood, but there was no way to do that.
We had less than twelve hours left together, and then we’d be back at training camp and starting the process of letting go.
Was that even possible?
“Whitney thinks she can make this touchdown. Let’s see if she can,” his voice boomed as I ran with the ball.
Sucking up my despair, I pretended too. When he had the ball, I yelled, “That’s Hot Stuff over there, he thinks he can recover his fumble and score, let’s see if he can.”
Pretending.
I’d be doing a lot of that.
Holding it together, I played along, but the more I thought about the ticking of the clock, the more my mind started to shatter.
The next time he threw me the ball, I missed it and it went rolling down the hill. While I ran what seemed like miles to retrieve it, Lucas started to practice his throw.
I stopped and watched him. The way he moved. The way he carried himself. The way he was.
His shoulder arced with a precision that screamed of years of hard work. This man was born to be a quarterback.
And it was in this moment I realized that no matter how much I’d hoped we’d dissolve our pact to end things when training camp was over, it could never be that way.