Blue

by H. J. Bellus

  “Fuck you.” Sophie pushes into my shoulder.

  Chapter 25

  “Blue, why do you look so blue?”

  I toss the nearest pillow with all my might toward Tuck’s head. He knows I hate, hate that saying, and he makes sure to get it in whenever he can.

  “I’m fucking exhausted, and I hate this math class and can’t keep up with all of it.”

  Tuck takes a bite out of the slice of pizza he’s currently making love to and raises an eyebrow at me.

  “Then I have your sexy ass staring at me like that. I just want you to take me to bed and do all of my homework.”

  He stands, still eating the pizza, and walks toward me.

  “Take your shirt off, Tuck.”

  The man still won’t strip in front of me, even though it’s been almost two weeks of us together every night at his house. I’m still constantly pushing him and pulling his clothes off every chance we get. I was shocked the day he walked down the hall shirtless in front of Noah, which proved just how close the two men really are. My dorm has basically become a ghost town with Sophie and me ditching it for our men.

  In the sexiest of all sexy moves, he bites down on the slice of pizza. He lets it hang from his mouth and pulls his shirt off over his head, then covers me with his body, tossing my textbook to the side. Leaning up, I take a bite out of his pizza and smile back at him. He drops the slice on my chest, so I quickly pick it up and begin nibbling on it.

  “I can take care of one your problems.”

  “Oh, you’re such a sweet boyfriend to do my homework.” I lightly tap his nose.

  “I’m not talking homework, Blue.”

  He pulls my shorts down in one quick motion and hikes my shirt up above my breasts, and I just watch him while eating my pizza and smirking down at him. Then my underwear are off, and he’s dangerously close to a certain area where I love his mouth to be.

  “Tuck, my homework,” I whine.

  Then his tongue flicks against my sensitive flesh, and I buck up into his mouth, wanting more. The pizza flies and any stress of homework vanishes. He nips at me, and I scream.

  “Oh god, Tuck.”

  I feel a smile spread across his face, and he knows he has my undivided attention. When his fingers sink deep in me, his tongue goes into overdrive, and my hips work harder against him. It only takes seconds before I feel the lingering threats of an orgasm, and he pulls up and sits back on his heels.

  “What the hell?” I pop up on my elbows.

  He pushes down his pants, freeing himself, and slams into me without warning, and I cry out loud in pleasure and dig into his back. He grunts with each thrust into me. Tuck leans down and attacks my lips while keeping the same pace with his hips. I bite down on his bottom lip, letting him know my displeasure at his not finishing me off.

  Pushing back up, Tuck brings my legs up in front of him, digging into the back of my thighs, and I finally give in, screaming as I hit the spot I’ve wanted. Every part of my body trembles in aftershock, and it doesn’t help that Tuck still pounds away, searching for his release. When I look up into his face I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s pushing me to go again so he can go with me.

  There’s something I’ll never be able to resist about this man, and I’m pretty sure it’s the magnetic pull in those dark eyes of his. I don’t break eye contact as I squeeze the flesh of his forearms and concentrate on the feel of him growing inside me as he fucks me. Before long I’m right there with him again.

  “Tuck,” I say breathlessly.

  He grits his teeth and moans. With his second moan, I let go and feel him fall with me. The slick sensation between our connected bodies threatens to cause me to orgasm again. Tuck finally collapses on me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. His tongue darts out, lapping up and down my flesh, and then he nips at it every once in a while.

  “Stop, that tickles.”

  He pins me down and does it even more, and I have no chance against the big brute. He knows it’s my weak spot, and he loves teasing it.

  “Tuck.”

  His phone goes off, saving me from any more torture. I watch his broad shoulders as he reaches over to the glass table and looks at it.

  “It’s Noah. Just checking to see if we are dressed.”

  It only took him one time walking in on us to learn to always check before coming home. Thank the good lord above, I didn’t see his actual face since I was riding Tuck, but still embarrassing enough.

  “Homework.” I stick out my bottom lip.

  He pulls me from the couch and slaps my ass. “Go clean up and get dressed.”

  “Homework.” I point to the textbook on the floor.

  “Get your ass dressed.”

  He slaps me harder and sends me squealing down the hall. I know what this always leads to. The man loves wrestling around, and then it turns into fooling around, and then we are fucking like animals. It’s the one thing that’s been constant since returning to campus.

  I cringe when my gaze lands on the full body mirror in the bathroom. I’ve lost so much definition in my arms and legs it makes me sick. Tuck refuses to let me work out any more than one of my typical cheer practices. And I know he’s right because my body has barely been able to function. I really should win an Academy Award for acting the part and playing off my injuries, even at the last home game. Sometimes I even impress myself.

  Noah’s already perched on the overstuffed chair, and both men are intently watching the television. I’m shocked to see it’s the nightly news and not ESPN.

  “What are you two watching?”

  “They found him, Blue.” Tuck grabs me by the waist and pulls me down into him.

  “Found who?” I ask while still staring at the screen.

  “The asshole who’s been attacking girls all over town.” Noah sits forward as he continues to explain. “He’s the guy.”

  My attention slowly drifts back to the screen, and when I see him I feel nothing. No sheer terror like I experience every single night in my dreams. Not the spine-tingling chill when I feel like eyes are watching me, or an ounce of pain. There’s nothing. When I gaze closer at his eyes, I know it’s not my attacker.

  “Fuck,” Tuck growls. “I wish I could meet up with the asshole for a few minutes.”

  That’s not my attacker. The words catch in my throat. I try again, but the same thing. Tuck and Noah go back and forth about the attacker and how their research and leads didn’t point to this guy. I had no clue they were even looking into it. Again, how in the hell would they have time with practice, games, and, well…me?

  “You were looking into my attack?” I look up to Tuck.

  “Yeah.”

  “When and how?”

  “We put some people on it, and obviously some pretty shitty ones, because this guy wasn’t even on our radar.”

  Again the words lodge in my throat, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting them escape. I swallow them back down and feel each one of them cut like glass, but the pain is worth knowing Tuck won’t be distracted with it anymore.

  Me, I’ll get through it and keep faking it until the pain dissipates. I’ve managed to keep most of the fear tucked away so far.

  “Well, let’s celebrate.” I curl my toes in the shag carpet below my feet. “Let’s call over Sophie and Lane.”

  “Fuck that,” Tuck growls, and then pins me to the couch in a very familiar position. “Your parents are coming this weekend, which means I have to be on my best behavior.”

  Noah cuts in, “Yeah, back to porn and whacking it for a few days.”

  I giggle underneath Tuck.

  “I forgot to tell you, my parents are coming the next weekend. Dad has some partner surgeon coming in for the weekend.” I place my hands on his rock hard chest. “So, we have several days to fuck like bunnies.”

  “So romantic, little Blue.”

  “Wait,” I squeal and wrap my arms around his neck. “You owe me homework. Homework first, then lots and lots of fuc
king like bunnies.”

  Chapter 26

  Cheer practice sucked donkey balls. Every landing I could miss, I did, and every cheer I could fuck, I did. Coach didn’t take it easy on me either, but I can’t blame her since there’s a home game Thursday night, and it will be broadcast on national television. The cameras always love zooming in on the student section and the cheerleaders, and that’s me, the fuck-up.

  I know exactly what this distraction is from, and it’s not Tuck. He has been nothing but a gentle lover and his same beastly assholish self. The man has made love to me and fucked me thoroughly every single night, made me breakfast every morning, and then picked my ass up every day after practice. He’s been spot on perfect, and quite honestly, I’m ready to marry the man after three amazing weeks of dating.

  No, it’s not him or the workload from school, or even practice. Hell, I’ve been able to hit the gym every night with him, so I’m working off all the extra stress and more. It’s the letter. Yes, the letter that was slid so graciously underneath my dorm room door. I found it two nights ago when I ran up to my room to snag more clothes for Tuck’s place.

  The piece of paper only contained five dumb words, but they were strong enough to have me on edge. “I will finish the job.” I’ve tried convincing myself it was delivered to the wrong room, and it was probably just a love letter to a girl from a guy who finished too early. But none of that has helped.

  I let Steve, the friendly and probably overpaid by Dad guard, know when I left that night, and he reassured me he’d check the cameras and get back to me. I’ve really bonded with the guy, and knowing my dad padded his pockets a bit to watch over me might be the only ounce of sanity comforting me right now.

  Tuck has backed off on the security detail since the city cops arrested the mad man on campus, but it’s done nothing for me. I’m sure I’d recognize those eyes if I ever saw them again. The nasty glare is tattooed on my brain forever, and I see them every single night before I go to sleep.

  “Blue.”

  “Yeah.” A freshly showered Sophie is standing in front of her steel gray locker. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve been talking to you for the last five minutes. Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Yeah, sorry, I’m just hungry and fading out a bit.”

  “Well, the guys are out front, so move your ass.”

  I don’t miss the look of concern on her face. Sophie is the one person who picks up on all my silent cues, but she never pushes for details. She just holds her arm out for support in a silent way, and I take it each and every time. It’s like she sees the living nightmare play out on my face when no one else can.

  “Burgers?” I ask.

  “You know it. It’s their night before one of the biggest games of the season.”

  “You say that every time…to you each game is a championship.”

  “Well, no shit. Don’t you and Tuck talk football?”

  “We don’t talk much.” I wait for her reaction, and it’s everything I expected.

  “I hate you, Blue. I picked the wrong one. I mean, Lane can screw, but he’s not a double shooter and all-nighter like Tuck, AKA Mr. Fabulouso.”

  Her reaction is priceless, and every time I get the chance to rub it in, I do. It’s actually a lie about us not talking. Some nights we’ve stayed up all night talking about the most random subjects. He’s found out that he’ll get kicked in the teeth if he ever gives me a foot massage, and I’ve discovered his phobia of bridges. It’s the late night conversations that are my favorite because the dream never comes, and I always manage a couple hours of sleep snuggled up on him between our classes and practices.

  It seems if I fall asleep during the day, the nightmare stays away. The black lines under my eyes are getting harder and harder to conceal with make-up, and I know I need to shut down the memories, but just don’t know how.

  My aviators will have to do the hiding as we walk out into the bright outdoors. Tuck and a group of men are gathered around his truck chatting, and I’m sure it’s about football. We are both trained athletes and have fallen into an easy routine. I don’t get jealous of his teammates or time he dedicates to the team, and the same goes for him with cheer and me. At this point, I’m my own worst enemy.

  I hang back a bit and pretend to look at my phone, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. Booming voices fill the parking lot with lots of cheers and foul words. Someone for sure is getting the third degree for something. Just being around Noah and Tuck, listening to the stories they tell, it’s clear it’s part of the brotherhood to get the shit harassed out of you.

  “Look, there’s the little Hoover vacuum.”

  I recognize Noah’s voice and look up to see the whole group staring back at me.

  “Take it easy on my boy’s neck. You’re doing all sorts of damage to his game.”

  The crowd erupts again in laughter, and that’s when I see several large hickies covering his neck. My hand flies over my mouth and embarrassment sets in. Holy shit, I was just fooling around. I had no intention of leaving behind love bites.

  When I make eye contact with Tuck, I see a smile on his face as if he is proud of the marks, and it totally makes my embarrassment evaporate. This man has never believed in happily ever afters, or himself, for that fact, so seeing him smiling in a group of teammates over hickies makes me chipper. And in moments like these, all my nightmares vanish.

  “So, this is the beauty who has our star player all flustered and dropping balls.”

  I don’t see which teammate says it, but it encourages the rest to begin laughing again. Tuck must have really messed up today at practice. He’s not even arguing or glowering at any of them. He just keeps shaking his head and then holds his hand out to me. Carefully, I step over the curbing and through a patch of woodchips until I reach him. Tuck spins me around, pulling my back into his chest.

  “Paybacks are a bitch,” he whispers, and then leaves a light kiss on my temple.

  “Your dick must be magic to land someone as pretty as her with your ugly mug.”

  The men go on and on, and with every comment about Tuck and me, my skin begins to crawl. Noah plays along and it seems not to faze Tuck—on the outside, that is. I wonder just how much these guys know about him, but on the other hand, they are treating him just like any other player.

  I relax back into him as the conversation turns to game day, and I realize this could go on forever. Turning into his cheek, I kiss him, and then fling one of my arms up behind his neck.

  “I’m starving, Tuck.”

  “Me too,” he mumbles back. “But not for dinner.”

  He reaches behind him and flings open his door as he whirls me into the front of the cab, laying me back on the seat and then covering my body. And if I thought the hoots and hollers were loud before, they are now deafening.

  “What are you doing?” I try to ask between giggles.

  “Pissing on what’s mine. Those fucking pants show way too much.”

  “Stop.” I push up on his chest. “You’re being silly.”

  His mouth drowns out my plea as he assaults my lips, laying down the sexiest kiss I’ve ever tasted, and I feel him hard and ready to go.

  “Tuck.” I push my glasses back to glare at him. “Stop. We won’t be able to stop.”

  “Jesus, Blue, you look like hell.” The pad of his thumb brushes my cheek.

  “I’m just tired and hungry.”

  One of his large palms cradles the back of my head, gently pulling me up to him, while his thumb still rubs soothing motions on my cheek. Either I’m doing a really good job of blocking out the outside noise, or they went on harassing someone else.

  “Don’t lie to me.” He leans down and pecks the tip of my nose. “I know you’re struggling, and you have to ask for help.”

  “I’m still scared, Tuck.”

  “I’m all in, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “No, I’m scared of him.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my
mouth because of the growl Tuck produces.

  “He can’t hurt you, Blue.”

  “I’m just tired and hungry.” I do my best to change the subject, and it’s not a lie at all.

  “Oh, I’ll feed you.” He pushes up off the bench seat. “A big ol’ sausage.” He readjusts himself in his black gym pants.

  “Ewww, you’re gross,” I squeal.

  He only chuckles, pats his teammates on the shoulder, and rounds the front of the truck. But if truth was told, and if I wasn’t so exhausted and hungry, I’d be blowing the hell out of him on the way to the diner. Tuck has turned me into a slut like that.

  My phone rings as Tuck hops in the truck, and I see my mom’s shining face trying to FaceTime me.

  “Do you mind?” I ask him as the engine roars to life.

  “No prob, Beauty.”

  He’s FaceTimed with me several times, but has only met my mom, and they hit it off. Of course, Tuck was quiet at first, but my hyperactive mother had him talking up a storm in no time.

  “Blue, you look like shit.”

  Her hair is done, and subtle make-up paints her face. She’s always picture perfect. The way I used to be.

  “Hi, Mom, love you too.”

  “Have you been eating? Are you sleeping? Are you taking those vitamins?”

  She rambles off at least twenty more questions before taking a breath and letting me talk.

  “Yes, Mom, I’m just living the college life.”

  “Is Tuck there?”

  I flash the phone in his direction, giving her the perfect view of his silhouette as he focuses on the road.

  “Hi, Mrs. Williams.”

  “Tuck,” she gasps. “What’s that on your neck?”

  My heart drops out my butthole, and then I pull the phone from his face as fast as possible.

  “Turf burn,” I lie.

  “Well, that looks just awful. Tell him if it burns to get some cream for it. Dad could call something in for him.”