Groupie (Juked Book 2)

by ME Carter

  The feel of her moving up against me wakes me. It takes a second to remember where I am, but then I feel the warm body snuggled up next to me, I breathe in the scent of her hair, and it all comes back to me. I smile.

  “Why are you rubbing your ass against my cock?” I say into her hair, refusing to move.

  “Why are you rubbing your cock against my ass?” she replies.

  “I wasn’t. I woke up because you’re turning me on.”

  I feel, rather than see, her smile. “In my defense, when I woke up, your morning wood was poking my backside. It was really sexy.”

  I chuckle and then sigh. “What time is it?”

  She lifts her head to look at the clock. “Six thirty.”

  “I can’t believe we fell asleep so early last night.”

  “I can. I didn’t sleep very well for close to a week. I was tired.”

  I hold her tighter against me. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

  “Stop, Rowen. It’s over. I wanna move on.”

  “Okay. What time do you have to be at work?”

  “Not until one thirty. You?”

  “Eight.”

  She raises her head and twists to look at me. “Ew. Why so early?”

  “I have to set up before practice. It’s part of the requirements of my suspension.”

  “Ugh. This sucks.”

  “It is what it is.”

  “No, the laundry and all that, you deserve it. But since you’re already raring to go, I was hoping to get a little action. If we have time.” She reaches around and between us, grabbing my cock and squeezing.

  I suck in a breath. “Holy shit, Tiffany. That feels really good.” She strokes me through my pants, and I automatically start thrusting in her hand. “Turn around. I need to kiss you.”

  She stills. “Wait.” She throws the covers off and jumps out of bed, running to the bathroom. Seconds later she’s back with a bottle of mouthwash and a red plastic cup. “Swish,” she orders me.

  I smile and take a swig, swirling it around in my mouth while she does the same. After she spits into the cup, she hands it to me. “Spit. Now there’s no more morning breath.” I spit and almost can’t get the cup onto the nightstand before she’s straddling me, attacking me with her lips.

  Holy mother of god, is this sexy. I’m on my back, her on top of me holding my cheeks while we kiss. Our tongues can’t seem to get deep enough, and I can hear the sounds of us breathing through our noses so we don’t have to break contact with our mouths.

  I slide my hands up the back of her nightshirt. I knew she wasn’t wearing a bra, but feeling the soft skin of her bare back about has me coming unglued. I skim my thumbs over the sides of her breasts, wanting to take it a little further but not wanting to put any pressure on her. Especially after what’s transpired over the last few days.

  “It’s okay,” she whispers against my mouth. “You can touch me.”

  I slide my hands around to her breasts and rub her nipples lightly with my thumbs. They harden immediately, and my cock twitches in reaction. I lift the hem of her shirt.

  “Is this okay?” I ask before taking it off. Especially now, I won’t do anything without asking her permission. I want to give her the choice and not just assume she’s all right with anything.

  She nods, and I lift the shirt over her head, revealing the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. I take just a second to look at her naked breasts, but I need to be closer to her. I sit up, her still on my lap, and kiss my way down her neck, her chest, across her breasts, pausing only to gently suck and bite her nipples making them even harder. As I roll her over onto her back, I kiss my way down her stomach, below her belly button. I hook my fingers into the sides of her black silk panties, but then I stop and look up at her, waiting for her permission.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, pulling away from me. She seems shy, reserved, unsure.

  “I want to see you,” I say quietly. “I want to taste you. Can I?”

  She bites her bottom lip and presses her legs together. I’m not sure if she’s trying to find some friction or if she’s nervous.

  She clears her throat. “I don’t know.” I look at her quizzically. “I mean, it’s fine. It’s just… no one has ever done this to me before.”

  I still except for my eyebrows, which shoot up. “No one has ever gone down on you?” She shakes her head. “Ever?” I drop my head on her belly in disbelief.

  “What are you thinking?”

  I look up again. “I’m thinking how turned on that makes me. I get to be your first.” A wide smile crosses her face. I push her down on the bed. “Get comfortable, baby.”

  I slide her panties down and off her long legs, then spread her thighs wide and settle in. Her beautiful pink lips are already wet, and she smells, fuck, she smells like a dream. She watches me through hooded eyes, chest heaving in anticipation. Never taking my eyes off of hers, I lean down and flick her clit with my tongue. Her hips buck off the bed.

  “Rowen!” she shouts, and her hands are immediately in my hair. I smile and take a long lick up her slit, listening to her moan in delight. “Holy shit, I never knew it would feel this way,” she groans.

  “And how does it feel?” I lick and kiss her all over, savoring her musky taste. Her clit is swollen and pink. I love everything about her pussy. She’s perfect.

  “It’s soft and warm,” she says, eyes closed as she gyrates against me. “It feels like…” she gasps as I thrust my tongue inside her. “It feels like… I don’t know, I can’t think.”

  I chuckle against her, causing her to moan again. “Good. Don’t think.”

  I spend the next several minutes kissing and licking and thrusting with my tongue. I change it up, helping her build her orgasm but never quite getting her there. When she’s so close she’s grinding against my mouth, I thrust hard. Once, twice, three times, then pull my tongue out and grasp her clit with my lips.

  Her hips shoot off the bed, and she yells as her orgasm overtakes her. I keep sucking and flicking her clit with my tongue until the last wave is over.

  When she finally goes still, except for the rise and fall of her chest, I crawl up her body, kissing her as I go. Snuggling in behind her, I pull her to my chest and bury my face in her hair.

  “Holy shit,” she mumbles. “That was… holy shit. And you did that without, I mean, you did all of that with just your tongue.”

  “The tongue is supposedly the strongest muscle in the body. You shouldn’t be all that surprised by my skills.”

  She rubs up and down my forearm absentmindedly. “I never knew it could be like that.”

  “Neither did I.”

  We lay in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other.

  “Do you want the mouthwash?” she finally asks me.

  “Why?”

  “I'm sure it didn’t taste all that good.”

  “Keep that mouthwash away from me,” I say. “I wanna taste you on my lips until I have to go to work. You’re magically delicious.”

  She laughs heartily at my joke. “You don’t want to taste me while you’re at work, too?”

  “Oh, I want to,” I say. “But I’ll be damned if any of those assholes are going to smell you on me. That belongs to you and me.”

  She kisses the palm of my hand. “I like the sound of that.” She snuggles into me, and we doze off until the alarm finally wakes us, forcing us out of our bubble and back into the real world.

  “Good afternoon, Caleb,” I say, a relaxed smile on my face. It may have been a few hours ago, but there is definitely something to say about oral sex starting the day off right.

  “Hey, Tiffany. You have fun at the soccer game last night?” He looks at me slyly as I grab my mail out of my box.

  “I take it you saw the clip?”

  “Everyone saw the clip. It’s only been running on ESPN for the last eighteen hours.”

  “I guess that’s one way to put myself on the radar over there.”

  “I’m assum
ing it’s what happened after the soccer game that is responsible for the big smile on your face?”

  “Caleb,” I say. “That is none of your business.”

  “Oh, come on. I didn’t even know you were dating the guy, and all the sudden he’s jumping into the stands to make out with you in the middle of the game?” His journalist instincts are showing, but right now, I’m keeping my mouth shut.

  “Let it go, Caleb.”

  “Can’t do that, Tiffany.”

  “Yes, you can. Or else….”

  “Or else what?”

  I turn to face him. “Or else I’ll jinx you and your scanners.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would.”

  He purses his lips. “Fine, but I expect the inside scoop when you’re ready. Gotta make sure this guy is good enough for you.”

  I gather my things to head upstairs. “Done. I want a little more time to enjoy this privately.”

  How long have you guys been dating, anyway?”

  “A few months,” I say as I trot up the stairs.

  “A few months?” he calls after me. “Keep secrets much?”

  “Oh, Caleb,” I say over my shoulder. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.”

  He grumbles, but I can’t make out what he says. I’m sure it has something to do with the smile on my face, but I’m ready to get to work, so I don’t bother engaging.

  I go through my normal routine: boot up the computers, turn on the monitors, check emails.

  “Pretty sure it’s time for that exclusive interview,” Steve says behind me. I knew it was coming. I swivel around to look at him. “Rowen is on every single news station’s radar. If they haven’t figured out who his dad is yet, they’re about to, and you promised me a scoop.”

  “I’ve been thinking that all morning,” I admit as he makes his way to his office. “As much as I have enjoyed my Rowen bubble, you’re right.”

  He returns after dropping his stuff on his desk and takes a seat at the computer next to me. “I want a full package. Pull some video of his dad’s games and see if you can find baby pictures or something. You know what to do. But here’s the deal, I want you out of it. Completely.”

  “Why? I’ve been sitting on this story for months. I should be the one to write it,” I argue.

  “You’ve been sitting on this story because you care about the guy and his feelings. You haven’t been sitting on it until more information came out. I’ve given you time because I care about you. But you’re too close to the story now. Maybe you’re even part of it.” He points his pen at me. “Set up the interviews, do the research, and pass it off to Mannie.”

  I huff. “Fine. But if ESPN calls, I’m the one who figured this out months ago.”

  He smiles. “Honey, if ESPN calls, I’m taking credit myself. I’m ready for advancement, and I’ve hit the top of my game here in Houston.”

  “As long as you put in a good word for me taking over your position.”

  “It’s yours. Give it ten years, and you and I will be a force to be reckoned with on the national sports front.”

  “I’m pushing for five,” I say as I pull up the number for the PR department at Mutiny stadium. I punch in the number and spend the next ten minutes scheduling interviews.

  Research, however, proves to be more difficult.

  There are a few games from twenty years ago, but the video quality is pretty bad. If it weren’t for the Flanigan hair and his talent, it would be pretty hard to figure out which player I’m looking at. And there’s only one picture of Rowen with his dad from back then.

  I tap my pen on my desk, thinking. I could probably ask Rowen for baby pictures, but that seems like taking advantage of him. If I’m handing off the information to someone else anyway, it’s not worth putting Rowen in an uncomfortable spot.

  My phone rings. Speak of the devil… “Hey handsome. How was laundry duty?” I lean back and stretch out my legs, smiling.

  “I love you, Tiffany, but I am never, ever jumping in the stands to kiss you again,” he says with a chuckle. “The odor from the socks alone isn’t worth it.”

  “I could have told you that,” I say with a laugh. “I don’t even wanna know about the skid marks in the tighty-whiteys.”

  He groans. “Stop. I had finally moved past that nightmare. Remind me to buy industrial grade gloves before tomorrow.”

  “How was practice otherwise?”

  “Grueling. Coach warned me I’d be doing more drills and laps than anyone else, but he didn’t say it’d be almost double.”

  “Aw, poor baby. Are you gonna need a full body massage when I get home tonight?”

  “I’m right here,” Steve yells. “No phone sex when I’m in the room.” I flip him the bird.

  “Who was that?” Rowen asks.

  “It was my boss, Steve. Ignore him. We can have phone sex if we want.” Steve groans, and I stick out my tongue at him.

  “That’s just a little weird, babe. Even for you.”

  “Ha ha,” I deadpan. “How come you’re calling in the middle of my day? You usually text.”

  “I usually don’t get requests from the PR department to do interviews with the local news stations, regarding my history with soccer and my family history with the sport.”

  I grimace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get a chance to text you. Are you mad?”

  He sighs. “No. You know how I hate being the one in front of the camera, though. I’d much rather it be Daniel or Santos. Someone more high-profile in the game.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. Daniel is supposed to be interviewed, too. And your coach.”

  “I didn’t want this to turn into a thing.”

  “I know, babe, but the minute you jumped in the stands, your feeling on it didn’t matter anymore. If it’s not me doing the story, it’ll be someone else.”

  “You’re not the first one to call the office about this today.”

  “No? Are you scheduled for other interviews?” Steve stops his typing and makes eye contact with me. I know what he’s thinking. He’s worried we sat on the information too long, and now we’ve lost our exclusive.

  “Well, we talked about it, but I asked if we could put everyone else off until next week. You see, there’s this really beautiful woman over at Channel 4, who keeps trying to get in my pants, and I wanted to make sure she got the story first.”

  “Eek!” I squeal, bouncing a little in my seat. “Thank you, babe, thank you! I’m gonna give you so much head for this, you won’t be able to sit down, your balls will be so sore.”

  Steven gets a horrified look and throws his hands over his ears. “I’m still here. I don’t want to know these things.”

  I throw my head back and laugh.

  “Why do you say those things in front of people, Tiffany?” Rowen asks.

  “Shock value. My goal in life is to make Steve squirm. Judging by the look on his face, and the fact that he’s rocking and sucking his thumb in a corner, I think I finally met my goal.”

  “Is he really?”

  “No.”

  Rowen chuckles. “I’m going home to change into something a little more TV appropriate. Any idea when this will air?”

  “We’re booked tonight, so I’m guessing it’ll run tomorrow.” Steve throws a thumbs-up sign at me.

  “All right,” he says with resignation. “I’ll let my mother know so she can live-stream it.”

  “You do that. And I’m serious about that massage. Make sure to ice down again after your interview. You’re going to be sore tomorrow.”

  “I will, babe,” he says with a chuckle. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  We say our goodbyes, and I toss my phone on the desk, making eye contact with Steve.

  “We got the exclusive?” he asks.

  “He was able to put everyone else off until next week.”

  “Nicely done.” Steve hops up and gives me a high-five. “ESPN, here we come.”

  Three rings, and my
mother’s face pops up on the monitor in front of me.

  “Hey, Mam.”

  “Hey, Rowen. How are you feeling?” She takes a sip of her tea.

  “Sore. So, so sore.”

  “Ye should be after that stunt you pulled the other day.”

  “Hi to you, too, Da.” He pulls up a chair next to Mam and sits down, looking like he’s about to give me a lecture.

  “Care to explain yer behavior?” he asks.

  It doesn’t matter that I’m an adult. It doesn’t matter that I’m a professional. To him, I’m still his kid, and no paycheck, endorsement, or age is going to keep him from ripping me a new one.

  I sigh. “I let them get in my head.”

  “It’s about that lass, is it? About that groupie?”

  “Ryan,” my mother chides gently, putting a hand on his arm.

  “No,” he says. “He was doing fine until she came along, and now he’s throwin’ punches and makin’ a fool o’ himself. What am I supposed to think?”

  “What you’re supposed to think is I screwed up, and now I’m taking my punishment like a man, Dadaí. You need to stop blaming Tiffany. She didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  He grunts his disapproval.

  “I’m serious, Da. They found my weakness and took advantage of it, but it isn’t going to happen again.”

  “Yer weakness is a woman, so it will happen again.”

  I rub my head in frustration. “I know that. She and I had a long talk about it, and she reminded me of some things I had forgotten. It’s all worked out with the team. It’s all worked out with Tiffany. I’m back on track now. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Ryan,” Mam interjects. “Rowen hasn’t been in a relationship like this before. I think you need to give him a little grace.”

  He turns to look at her. “Rowen is my son. Football is in his blood. He, of everybody, should know better than to do what he did.”

  She meets his glare straight on. “I guess you’ve forgotten about Frederick Schneider then.”

  He groans. “That’s different, love. We were getting married.”

  “We had known each other for three months. Rowen has been dating this girl longer than that already. How do you know they aren’t getting married?”