Cleat Chaser

by Celia Aaron

  A couple of knocks and shouted questions from reporters were met with a gruff “fuck off” from Easton. He rounded on me, eyeing me from head to toe. He flinched and adjusted his cup before whipping his hat off and advancing to where I sat.

  I swallowed. Hard. “Easton, we should talk. I wanted to explain the whole thing about Sean. It just took me so off guard that I—”

  He put his hands on my cheeks, gently bringing my gaze up to his. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “You do? Then why didn’t you respond?” I tried to keep the hurt from my voice, but it crept in.

  “I was mad. And dumb. I was a lot of things, none of which I’m proud of.” He shook his head. “Braden and Kasey set me straight. And that article of yours.”

  “You read it?”

  “Only about fifty times.” He leaned closer, his lips only a whisper away from mine.

  I clutched his shirt, suddenly wishing there was nothing between the two of us. “Did you like it?”

  “Yes, except for the part about how I was a love mistake.” He ran his teeth along my bottom lip and bit down lightly before catching my gaze again. “Do you still think that’s what I am?”

  A rush of heat consumed my body, and my knee-length peach dress seemed a lot tighter and itchier than it did only moments before.

  “That’s not exactly what I said. But if you are a love mistake, then you’re one I want to make over and over again.” I pulled on his shirt, bringing his lips to mine.

  The electricity between us was undeniable, all-consuming. He slid his hands down my sides and gripped my ass, dragging me to the edge of the massage table.

  “Easton!” Another reporter banged on the door. “Would you like to comment on the feud between you and—”

  Easton turned his head and roared. “If you don’t move away from that goddamn door, I’m going to step out there and yank your arm out of its socket and beat you to fucking death with it!”

  I couldn’t stifle my laugh.

  He turned back to me, his eyes intense and his jaw set in a tense line. “That cute little giggle of yours is going to get you fucked.”

  “Promise?” I bit my lip.

  He reached under my dress and rested his palms on my hips, then hooked my panties and yanked them down my legs. He tossed them on the table next to me.

  “Spread your legs.” He kissed me, urgent and hot, and threaded his fingers through my hair.

  I opened my legs, inviting him between them by tugging him forward by his pants. His hands rested on my shoulders and then pushed the straps of my dress and bra down, exposing my breasts. Palming one, he kneaded it as he sucked and licked my tongue.

  He groaned into my mouth and put his palm at my lower back, pressing me forward to the edge of the table. I undid the snap on his pants and lowered his zipper. But when I reached in, I was at a loss with what to do with his cup.

  “Fuck.” He stood straight and yanked the cup out with a grimace. His cock sprang free, the head already glistening.

  “Mmm,” was the only sound I could make as I licked my lips.

  He bent his head to my chest, taking a nipple in his mouth as I ran my hands through his hair. Moving to my other breast, he gave it the same attention until I was panting and yanking, trying to pull him up to my mouth.

  He obliged, licking up my chest and neck until he claimed my lips as his. It was a messy kiss, full of every ounce of passion and need we’d stoked in each other. His tip fell to my entrance, and he pulled away, staring at my pussy as he put his hands on the inside of my knees and pushed.

  Spread wide, I was open to him like I’d never been with anyone else. His eyes were dark, the sparkle still there but glinting like the edge of a knife.

  I put my hands behind me, bracing myself on the table and letting him have a view of all of me.

  “Fucking beautiful.” He gripped my thighs and slid his cock inside me.

  I gasped and dug my nails into the towels on the massage table. He pulled out and shoved back in, harder this time. The slap of our bodies echoed off the wall. Then he did it again, setting up a fast pace before wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into another scorching kiss.

  I ran my hands under his jersey, feeling his hard abs and around to his flexing back. He kissed to my neck and bit down hard enough to leave a mark. A fresh rush of excitement took over my senses, like a bucket of morphine dumped in my blood stream, and I couldn’t stop the moans that lofted from my lungs.

  “Loud, baby?” He laughed against my neck and pulled out. Then he gripped my hips and lifted me, turning me onto my stomach, my ass at the edge of the table. He clapped a palm over my mouth and thrust back inside.

  Surging in a forceful rhythm, he reached around and stroked my clit. My eyes rolled back in my head at the feeling of his fingers, his palm on my mouth, and the hard plunges that I pushed into. He leaned over my back, grunting with the effort as I cried into his palm.

  He swirled around my hard nub before pinching it between his fingers. My pussy tightened, every bit of tension coiling inside me like a snake. I clawed at the table, and Easton removed his hand from my mouth and used it to slap my ass instead. The sting sent me over the edge, my pussy convulsing as I buried my face in the towels and moaned.

  “So fucking hot, Kyrie. Jesus.” His voice was strained, but I was gone, floating in the sea of pleasure that rolled over me in undulating waves. He kept fucking me, each stroke keeping my orgasm going until my body finally relaxed.

  He pulled out again and lifted my hips, laying me on my back on the table. He crawled on top of me, easing inside and moving more slowly now.

  “Easton.” It was all I could do to say his name.

  He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips and set a languid pace, as if he wanted to enjoy every second.

  “Every moment without you was the worst of my life.” His voice was low, rough. “I love you, Kyrie. I never want to be apart again.”

  Tears welled in my eyes, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “Don’t cry.” He kissed my cheeks and pressed his forehead to mine. “I never want to see you cry.”

  “I love you, too.” I kissed him, gently at first and then with more desperation.

  He picked up his pace, and I dug my heels into his thighs, spurring him harder and faster. My nipples rubbed against his scratchy jersey, and I thought I’d burn up to a cinder when he moved down to my neck, sucking at just the right place to drive me crazy.

  I lifted my hips to meet him, loving each impact and the thrill it sent through my clit. He nipped down to my shoulder and ran a hand through my hair, pulling it the way he loved. I loved it, too, and showed it by digging my nails into his back.

  “I’m going to come, baby.” He groaned and thrust harder.

  “Me too. I’m there. Come in me.” I spread my legs, my heels in the air, as he plunged deeply a few more times.

  “Fuck,” he bit out and his hips surged erratically as he groaned.

  His release brought mine roaring to the surface and my pussy spasmed around his cock, pulling him deeper as I moaned long and low. My vision dimmed for a moment, my entire body focused on the intense bliss rolling from my pussy to every cell of my body.

  He collapsed on top of me, his head resting next to mine on the table. We both took in huge gulps of air. We lay still for a while, just trying to come back down.

  “I’m pretty sure you said you loved me.” Easton said and nipped at my ear.

  I smiled. “I did? I don’t remember saying that.”

  He raised up to his elbows and stared down at me. “Do I need to remind you?” He thrust again, his cock at half mast but still capable of sending a tingle through me.

  I looked away and then back at him. “I guess I might remember. Maybe a little. Perhaps I do need a bit of a remind—” I moaned as he pulsed inside me again. “Okay, okay, yes. I do seem to remember saying I love you. Because I do.”

  His smirk turned into a smile as he kissed me. Then he pu
lled back and furrowed his brow. “I love you, Kyrie. You have all of me. My entire heart. It’s yours.”

  “Hey, man, I’m all for some nookie, but you got reporters out here trying to bribe me with blowjob offers. And that’s just the guys.” Braden’s voice came through the door.

  I’d just fucked my boyfriend in a Major League stadium but somehow, felt not one bit of guilt about it. All the same, a blush crept into my cheeks at the thought of having to get through the reporters and doing the walk of shame past Easton’s teammates.

  Easton shook his head and pulled out. Rocking back on his knees, he lifted me into a sitting position. “Give us a minute,” he called.

  “Okay, fellas, which one of you has the least gag reflex?” Braden’s voice faded.

  I straightened my dress and snagged my panties. Easton snatched them from my hand.

  “Spoils of war.” He smiled and tucked them into his pants.

  I arched an eyebrow. “But I was the victor.”

  He got to his feet and tucked everything back into place. “Nope, that was me.”

  “You won the game, sure.” I stood, the concrete floor cold beneath my bare feet. Raising onto my tiptoes, I bit his ear. “But I won the war.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He whipped me around and smacked my ass. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

  I cooed at the promise in his words. “But how are we going to get past the reporters?”

  He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of a big guy. Some would even say intimidating. Let me handle it.”

  Stepping around me, he pulled the massage table away from the door.

  “Ready?” He took my hand and gripped the door handle.

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  When he opened the door, at least a dozen people crowded around, their phones and cameras focused on the two of us. Shouted questions ensued as Easton pushed through them, keeping me close.

  I didn’t look up, hoping against hope my face wouldn’t be all over sports websites within moments.

  “Back the fuck up.” Braden elbowed some of them away and pointed toward a back hallway.

  Easton nodded and led me away. His scowling coach was standing at the entrance to the hall, but he let us pass before re-taking his post and preventing the media from following us any farther.

  “Home free.” Easton pulled me into his side and slowed his pace. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” I took a deep, steadying breath, and caught the outline of someone leaning against the wall near the double doors ahead.

  “Why didn’t you ever let me fuck you in the clubhouse?” Sean pushed himself from the wall and squared off with us.

  Easton tensed. “Move, asshole.”

  “Get out of the way, Sean.” I stepped forward, no longer the least bit conflicted. Sean was a dick.

  He let his gaze rove down my dress, my legs, and then back up to my lips. Easton practically vibrated with rage next to me. I put my hand on his forearm, and he stayed put.

  “Come home with me. Remember what a nice place we used to share? We could have that again.” Sean gave me his most earnest look—the same one he used to try and convince me that I hadn’t just caught him fucking a girl in our bed. “Don’t you want that?”

  “What I want is to never see you again.” I tilted my chin up, staring into his eyes.

  “Come on.” He moved closer and I squeezed Easton’s arm, begging him to let me fight my own battle.

  I shook my head. “We will never get back together.”

  He looked down, as if sad, but then caught my eye again with a cruel grin. “Did you tell Easton I popped your cherry?”

  My knee flew up of its own accord, nailing him right in the junk. He screamed like a little boy and doubled over.

  “Don’t ever speak to me like that. If you try it, I’ll make sure this happens again. Got it?” I shoved Sean to the side where he crumpled against the wall, exhilaration racing through my veins.

  “Jeez.” Easton scrubbed a hand down his face.

  “What?” I turned and stared up at him as Sean gasped for breath on the floor.

  “It’s just… That’s just… That’s brutal for any man, even one like Sean.” A smile slowly spread across his face. “Well done. Damn, I love you, woman.”

  Those words still caused my mind to spin like a top. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of hearing them fall from his lips. “I’m glad you approve. Now can we get out of here?”

  “Anything you say, scrapper.” He dropped a kiss on the crown of my head and scooped me up in his arms.

  “I can walk.” I laughed as he pushed through the double doors into the cool night air.

  “Not without shoes.”

  “Good point.”

  “No, you just had a good point and you’re about to have it again as soon as I get you to my apartment.” He hustled through the lot to his truck.

  I squealed as he nipped at my ear.

  “Shh, do you want people to think you’re some sort of cleat chaser?” He smirked.

  I pulled his head down to me and brushed my lips against his. “In this case, they’d be right.”

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  COUNSELLOR

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