by Alley Ciz
His size extends to all of him, and I see the effort it takes for him to hold back, afraid to hurt me.
“Mase.” Using the strength I’ve honed through years of flipping across the blue mat, I tilt and press onto him another few inches.
“Kay.” My name is a plea.
I clutch him, needing the rest of him in me before I lose my mind.
One more pump of his hips and he’s finally filling me completely, wholly, pushing me to the brink of release embarrassingly soon.
“Mase.” My lips press into his chest to stifle my moan.
Emotion surges through me with such intensity it rivals the pleasure he’s causing me to experience. It can’t be stopped. I meet him thrust for thrust, putting everything I’m feeling but can’t say into my movements.
“I wanted this to last longer babe, much longer, but I’m not sure if I can hold back.” His teeth are clenched in his effort to do just that.
“I’m there.” One more push is all it takes then my orgasm consumes me. “Mase.” I bite his shoulder to curb the sound.
I tighten around him, my body milking his. One more hard push and I feel him join me.
“Babe.” His head drops alongside mine on my pillow.
We continue to rock together as the final waves of pleasure wash over us. I’m not sure how long we lie wrapped in each other’s arms while our heartbeats return to normal.
Eventually he withdraws from my body and we both get dressed before each of us takes care of our business in the bathroom.
When I climb back into bed, Mase removes my shirt again, his arms around me, my legs intertwined with his and my head on his chest.
“Now that’s a hell of a way to say good night,” he says into my hair.
“Yeah it is.” I kiss his muscular chest.
“Careful now—I might want to sleep over all the time.”
Yes please. Slumber party! *spirit fingers* Correction—NAKED slumber party. My inner cheerleader is fully on board.
“You’re not gonna get any complaints from me.”
His chest rumbles under my ear.
“Night, baby.” He places a gentle kiss on my head. Always kissing me.
“Night.”
I don’t even recognize myself in this moment.
#Chapter49
It’s not even noon and this day is already shaping up to be one of the best of my life. First I woke up to a mostly naked Kay in my arms. Then, true to her word, she woke up only long enough to kiss me goodbye—with a kiss so hot it was a challenge to not crawl right back into bed with her—before snuggling back under the covers. If I could start every day like that, I would.
One time between her legs and you’re already pussy-whipped.
Hold up, I argue with my inner coach. Are you complaining? Are you telling me last night wasn’t the best sex of our lives and having sleep marks from Kay’s nipples on our chest isn’t your preferred method of waking up?
The fucker stays silent, not able to argue with that logic.
There are a few things about our epic sexcapades that surprised me, though.
1. Kay wasn’t a virgin. If you asked me why I thought she was, I wouldn’t be able to tell you, but I did.
2. It wasn’t just sex; it was making love. Hot as fuck, yes, but still so much more than just sex.
3. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, like head over heels, flattened by a linebacker in love with this girl.
Walking into The Nest, the sound of hawk cries greeting me, I head for our table to find Alex, Noah, and Kevin have decided to join our group as well. I can feel the eye roll Kay will give when she gets here.
Bailey looks like she’s in jersey chaser heaven surrounded by most of the captains from the football team, and I make sure to choose a seat as far away from her as possible.
The guys all cheer when Kay arrives. She laughs at their over-the-top greeting but tugs the brim of her hat another inch lower.
“You guys are stooopid,” she says to them, coming to stand next to me.
“You love us,” Alex says confidently.
“You’re okay,” she counters.
As I look at her, I hope with everything in me that she does love me, because dammit, against all odds, Casanova has fallen in love with her.
All right. *blows whistle* You know what? I don’t want to hear it if she ends up being another Chrissy/Tina thing, but if we’re gonna do this, like really do this, we are going to love the fuck out of this girl.
“Oh my god! Marry me!” Noah shouts when he sees Kay’s Oh my God, Becky! Look at that PUNT shirt.
“I take it you like it?” She plucks at the material.
“For reals, marry me.”
“She’s mine, asshole.” I pull Kay tighter against me. “Get your own.”
“Relax, Caveman.” She smooths a hand down my stomach, and my dick twitches remembering what that hand felt like on him and clamoring for a repeat performance. “Double lunch?” She points to the two trays in front of me.
“One of them is for you.”
“Aww, you do love me,” she jokes, the statement a throwaway like she’s used with Grayson countless times.
Little does she know, I’m thinking, More than you know.
Grabbing lunch for her may not seem like a big deal to most people, but anything to help her feel comfortable around me and my boys in public the way she does when we’re alone, I’ll do. The one thing going in our favor is when we are all together in a group, it’s like our numbers serve as a shield and she doesn’t hide as much.
We haven’t discussed the whole Instagram thing for almost a week, but I do notice the phones trained in our table’s direction. While one of my favorite things about Kay is how she doesn’t care about my “status,” I also wonder if being pulled into this part of my life will be something she can handle.
Fuck that. I’m already working on the playbook for it.
I adjust Kay’s seat closer to mine, and shockingly enough, she doesn’t push away. She does, however, slouch a little lower and angles herself so my body is blocking most of hers from view. Baby steps.
“Any big plans besides missing me this weekend, babe?” I may joke, but I’ll be the one missing her with the team traveling to Pittsburgh for an away game.
“Laundry. So much laundry,” she says dramatically.
“Ugh, I hate laundry,” Em agrees.
“Me too. It doesn’t help that the machines are always full too,” Quinn adds.
“You guys don’t travel this weekend, right?” Kay asks them while tracing a part of my tattoo with her finger in a way that makes me think she’s not even aware she’s doing it. I am, painfully so, as evidenced by the tightness in my pants.
“Yeah, only the White Squad travels for non-conference games,” Em confirms.
“I have to go home for T—why don’t you guys come with and do it at my house? We’ll do it up. Order takeout, watch movies, and all that jazz.”
The girls are quick to agree, and they instantly start planning out their weekend.
“Damn. I move into the Alpha house and you just leave me in the dust,” Grayson pouts.
“Don’t be a baby.” Kay rolls her eyes as he steals a fry from her plate. “You know you and CK are invited too.”
Usually I like traveling with the team—seeing new places, pranks against teammates, new options for tail—but now it means an extended absence from Kay, which is not my favorite thing.
#Chapter50
Laundry, so much laundry.
Sort. Wash. Dry. Fold. Repeat.
It’s like a flipping laundromat with how consistently the washer and dryer have been running.
As much as I’m for freeing the house elves, matching socks is the worst. At least the tedious task helps distract me from how much I miss Mase. Like I really miss him.
I also think I might love him.
Might? No, no. How about…give me an L. Give me an O. Give me a V. Give me an E. What’s that spell? Yeah, tha
t’s more like it.
I want to argue with my inner cheerleader that we are not and that all-stars don’t actually cheer, but I’m already on the verge of seeming crazy with how much she talks to me; I don’t need to add engaging to the equation.
It’s bad enough I’ve been zoning out all day, and it has not gone unnoticed. Distraction is the name of the game I’m playing.
Currently, Em, Q, CK, G, and I are spread out around the living room of my family home amongst piles of folded laundry, textbooks, laptops, and Thai takeout containers.
“Kay. Kay. Earth to Kayla.” G waves his large hand in front of my face.
“Sorry.” I blink, coming out of yet another Mase stupor. “What was that?”
Around me, they all chortle.
“Damn, Kay. Where have you been all day?” Q can’t curb her laughter, and all I can do is blush.
Em’s eyes narrow as she studies me closely. “Holy shit! I know what it is.” She claps her hands together. “You and Mason totally did it.” Her voice sounds so excited you would think she was the one who got laid.
Another blush gives me away so there’s no denying it.
“Was it good?” Em asks.
“Of course it was good,” Q adds.
“True. He is Casanova.”
“But we still need details.”
“When did this happen?”
“Where did it happen?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”
“Can we not talk about Kay’s sex life?” G cuts into Em and Q’s barrage of questions. “She’s like my sister—it’s gross.”
“I second that,” CK adds with a grimace.
“Guys, guys, guys…timeout.” I hold my hands up in a T. “Can we please stop calling him Casanova?”
“Fine.” Em nods. “But don’t try to change the subject.”
“Yeah, give us the deets.” Q leans into Em, both of them watching me expectantly.
I take a peek at G, and he’s looking a little bit green under his dark skin. Being the amazing best friend that I am, I decide to take pity on him.
“I’ll spare you the specifics.”
“Appreciated.” G bows his head forward.
“But I’ll tell you this.” I lean toward the girls like I’m about to share a secret but don’t lower the volume of my voice at all. “It was spectacular.”
G falls back on the couch dramatically, clutching a pillow to his stomach.
What? I said I was an amazing best friend—never said anything about not messing with him.
My inner cheerleader winks and salutes from the top of the pyramid.
We’re still laughing at G’s expense when a FaceTime notification from Mase pops up on my MacBook Pro.
“Hey, Skittles.” He gives me a full-dimpled smile when he sees me.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m missing him or my recent epiphany regarding the extent of my feelings for him, but he looks so hot. The things he does for a simple cotton t-shirt and a backward hat should be illegal.
I swear it’s half the reason he stole my heart.
“Hey, Caveman.” He grins harder at the nickname.
“Whatcha’ doin’?”
“Oh, you know”—I shrug—“it’s all takeout Thai food, studying, and copious amounts of laundry. Real party over here.”
“Is it bad I’m jealous?”
“Not bad. A little sad maybe.” I pinch my fingers together. “Where are the guys?” I ask when I notice Mase is the only one in the room. That’s not normal.
“Trav and Alex went to prank Noah and Kev’s room.”
I roll my eyes, earning me a chuckle.
“You guys are such children.”
He gives me a smirk but doesn’t deny it.
“Are you wearing one today?” He brings the phone closer to his face as if it will allow him to see better.
“I wasn’t earlier but now I am.” I match his smirk with one of my own.
“You gonna show me or what?”
“Dude! Didn’t we just cover this? I don’t want to hear about your sex life, let alone be witness to your phone sex,” G practically wails.
Mason barks out a laugh. “What the hell is Grayson going on about?”
“G is somehow under the impression you and I are about to have phone sex.”
“As intriguing as that idea is”—Mase waggles his eyebrows—“I’m not really into sharing.”
Of course not. He’s too damn alpha to allow that.
“You and I”—he bounces a finger between us—“will be revisiting this topic.” The blaze in his green gaze burns me as I read every wicked promise he’s not saying out loud.
I shrug, quirking my lips and feigning innocence, causing his eyes to narrow.
“But can you explain why he would think that to begin with?”
“Bro,” G yells from his spot on the couch across the room. “You asked her what she’s wearing.”
“Grayson, get your ass on camera so I don’t feel like I’m shouting into thin air.”
G gets up and sits down next to me on the floor. I adjust the laptop so both of us can be on screen together.
G jumps right in. “Bro, how many times do I have to say she’s like my sister? I’m all for you guys getting it on, but I don’t need details, and I sure as hell don’t need to bear witness to it. So, please, for the love of god, don’t ask about her underwear in front of me.”
One of the most beautiful sights in the world is the way Mason’s eyes sparkle with laughter like they are now.
“Grant, listen to me.”
Ooo, he’s getting all serious calling him Grant.
“Kay is not some hookup to me. She is my girlfriend.”
Is it wrong to swoon over such a simple statement?
“But even if she weren’t, you should know I am not one to…how do I put this in a way where you won’t kick my ass?”
His face scrunches as he thinks, and my inner cheerleader pulls out some popcorn, living for the potential drama.
“I’m not one to kiss and tell. I can assure you I’m not gonna risk having phone sex with her when there’s a chance of the rest of these idiots barging in in the middle of it.”
This is so true. This may only be the second away game the team has had since Mase really started to pursue me, but more often than not, if he’s calling me, we have an audience.
“Now can you chill so my girlfriend can show me her shirt? I live for her comedic wardrobe.”
This boy. I can’t even begin to describe what he makes me feel when he says stuff like this. He gets me, like really gets me down to the core.
Duh! *hair flip and eye roll* Why else do you think we fell in love with him?
I scoot back, tilting the camera to a better angle, and pull the fabric of my shirt taut so it’s easier to read. Since I’m home, I’m wearing one of my cheerleading shirts, this one pink with Forget glass slippers—this princess wears cheer shoes written in gray.
“I think I’m gonna have to get one of those for Livi for Christmas,” Mase declares as I readjust the screen back up.
“Already got it.”
“Can’t leave Olly out.”
Oh the way he loves his siblings.
“You know this is only the second time I’ve seen one from your cheer collection,” he notes.
“I can’t very well go around wearing them if I don’t want people to know. I usually change into my coaching ones at The Barracks.”
“I might have to add that you send me pics of those too, and not just the ones I miss when I’m away.”
And now my heart is flipping across the blue mat with my inner cheerleader.
“I might be able to arrange that.”
I watch his chest expand and contract as he takes a deep breath.
What is he going to ask? Is he going to bring up our still unresolved conversation about my…aversion to social media?
“I miss you.”
Swoon. Yes, we are definitely swoo
ning now.
I get all mushy inside while our friends all say, “Aww.”
“I miss you too.”
I also love you, but I’m sure as hell not saying it first.
I already own the t-shirt from the last time I tried that.
Before either of us can say more, the door to his room bangs open. Shortly after the video on the screen goes wonky as the phone is passed between Trav, Alex, Noah, and Kev, each vying for attention. Em, Q, and CK join G and me, and we all bullshit.
As I laugh at another ridiculous comment from one of the guys, I’m amazed once again by what has developed into my crew. Being guarded about my private life, trying to stay out of the spotlight to hide my past and avoid being used for my connection to my brother, I never realized how much it stifled me.
Even G, one of my best friends—only second to JT in closeness—was a hard-won battle for me to accept with him being a star player for the U of J basketball team. Giving in to that friendship is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Could letting these football players in fall into the same category?
“God I swear I feel like you guys are my brother-husbands the way you always butt into my phone calls with my girlfriend.”
“If we’re brother-husbands, does that mean I can kiss her too?” Trav puckers at me.
“If you weren’t my best friend, I’d kick your ass right now.” Mase rips the phone out of his hand. “I better go before I do something to make these guys too injured to play tomorrow.”
There’s my Caveman.
“Stay out of trouble.” I blow him a kiss and hang up.
I sit and stare blankly at the screen of my laptop after I disconnect the call. As much as I miss him, it’s probably good that he’s away. I need the time and space to work up the nerve to tell him…well, everything he has a right to know.
“What’s with the goofy-ass grin on your face?” G asks.
I tilt my head to face him. “Huh?”
“You have this almost dreamlike expression on your face, but at the same time you look kind of…”
“Scared,” CK supplies when G trails off.
My cheeks puff as I blow out a breath. “I’m so screwed.”
“Why?” Em asks.