by B. B. Hamel
Maybe this bet was going to be the motivation I needed to get healthy and to win that fucking game.
11
Taylor
I couldn’t let myself be alone with Owen.
That was a problem, of course. My whole job was about being alone with Owen. I saw him every day, and I touched his body every day. I couldn’t suddenly try to put distance between the two of us. There was no distance.
What the heck was I doing? Owen didn’t really give a damn about me. He seemed like he did, but when it came down to it, phone calls were more important. I had been inches away from kissing him, and he suddenly had to walk away to take a call.
I shouldn’t have been upset about it. That was some pretty childish crap, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to be beyond all of this and to not care, but I did. Owen made me feel that way, made me really care.
His knee was a problem. His attitude was a problem. And now I was in this with him no matter what. Even if I wanted to back out, it was too late. I’d look bad whether I told my boss or not, so I was going to trust Owen.
I believed him when he said it wouldn’t be a problem, or at least that he thought it wouldn’t. Who actually knew whether his knee would blow out the next game or if he’d have a long, comfortable career. There was no predicting that sort of thing, especially in a violent, chaotic sport like football.
Monday morning came and went. I had nothing special to do, so I spent the morning and the afternoon doing chores around my apartment that I’d been putting off. I finally got the laundry done, did every single dish that I’d been putting off, and even vacuumed. I wanted to clean the bathroom, but by the time three in the afternoon rolled around, I was pretty tired.
As I collapsed onto the couch to admire my clean and sparkling apartment, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it and opened a text without thinking about it.
“Been thinking about you all day.”
It was from Owen. I shook my head. “I hope you’re thinking about me while icing your knee.”
“I’ve been thinking about you while stroking my big, hard cock. With ice on my knee.”
I sighed and couldn’t help but smile. My heart began to beat faster. “Real professional.”
“I’m not professional and you know it. Come over.”
“I can’t come over.”
“I need you.”
“You’re fine. Just keep off your feet.”
“No. I mean I need you to help stretch me out. I’ve been feeling tense.”
“I don’t think that’s what you really want.”
“Come find out.”
I bit my lip and tossed my phone away. Maybe if I threw it aside, I’d forget about Owen and his body.
I did want to check on him. I didn’t trust that he was doing exactly what I had told him to. I was afraid the idiot was walking around all day or something like that. Worse, I was afraid he was working out and pushing his body way too far.
That was my excuse, anyway, as I grabbed my phone again. “Fine. I’ll come check on you. But nothing more than some light therapy.”
“Whatever you want to call it, I’m down. I’ll send a car.”
“Fine. See you soon.”
I felt nervous as I got up and quickly got changed. I put on my work clothes, deciding against a casual look. I didn’t want him to think that this was something it wasn’t, even though it so clearly was. As much as I wanted to pretend like I had no ulterior motive, I couldn’t.
I wanted him to do the things he said he’d do. I wanted to feel him, really feel him. I wanted to give in to Owen Rack and let him take me. I knew what he could do. I’d touched his body and heard him talk. I’d seen the muscles and the strength. I knew the kind of man Owen Rack was.
And yet I walked down my apartment steps and went outside to wait for the car he was sending.
It was dumb. It was irresponsible. But I got into the back and went over anyway.
Because I couldn’t help myself. When it came down to it, when it came to Owen Rack, I was helpless.
He lived in a beautiful apartment complex near the stadium. The car dropped me off and I went inside. The doorman was expecting me, and he called the elevator for me. I got inside and realized that I’d never actually seen a real doorman before in my entire life.
I got off at his floor and headed down the hall. For such a big building, there were only a few doors in the hallway. Owen’s apartment was at the very end. I stopped outside his door and knocked.
He answered, grinning at me. “Wasn’t sure you’d actually come.”
“I wasn’t either.”
“Come on it.” He moved aside and I walked into his place.
His apartment was gorgeous. It was all hardwood floors, clean, modern lines, and tasteful decorations. We walked into his main living room, with a connected, large, updated kitchen and another hallway that I assume led back to the bathroom and the bedroom.
“Home sweet home,” he said, sitting down on the couch. I was happy to see an ice pack on the coffee table.
“It’s really nice,” I said.
“I can’t take credit. It was like this when I moved in.”
I laughed. “You mean you’re not also an interior decorator?”
“I know I look like I love art and fashion, but no, I’m not.”
“I’m shocked. I thought you already had a career lined up for when you retire from football.”
He laughed, smirking at me. “Who said I’ll ever retire?”
“Oh, right. I forgot about all those guys over thirty playing running back.”
He just grinned at me. “Come on, have a seat.”
I shook my head. “Let’s get to work.”
“Well okay then.” He stripped his shirt off.
I gaped at him for a second. I’d seen him without his shirt on plenty of times before, but for some reason this felt more intimate. I stared at the tattoos on his skin, my eyes slowly moving up along his muscular chest, lingering on his smiling lips, and finally coming to rest right on his eyes.
“Put your shirt back on,” I said. “And help me move this coffee table.”
He just laughed and got up. We moved the table aside together.
“Okay,” I said. “Assume the position.”
“You’re all business.”
“That’s right. I am. You got me to come out here, so we’re going to do some work.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, fake serious. He got down on the floor in our usual position. “Do what you want with me.”
I couldn’t help but smile as I got down on my knees and we went into our routine. It was like clockwork between us; he knew what I needed to do next, and we transitioned from one stretching exercise to the next.
I could see a little pain on his face, but he didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t ask me to slow down or stop, which was a good sign. I had expected some pain, but if it were so bad that he couldn’t continue, then we’d have a problem.
The whole routine took about fifteen minutes. When we finished, I leaned back on my heels. “Okay,” I said. “Ready for more?”
He laughed. “Seriously? I thought we were done.”
“You called me out here, so we’re working hard.”
I moved toward the side of him, but he reached out and grabbed my hips. He pulled me onto him, and I lost my balance, toppling over. He grinned at me.
“I’m ready to get to work.”
“Cut it out.”
I went to move, but he held me against him. “Are you really going to pretend that you don’t want this?”
“Nobody is pretending about anything.”
“You are. Look at you. I’m sure you’re dripping wet right now thinking about exactly what I want to do to you.”
“And what do you want to do?”
“I want to slide those shorts off and tongue your tight cunt until you scream.”
I went to respond, to tell him that I didn’t want it, that I didn’t want it at all, even tho
ugh it was a lie, but he stopped me. He pulled me against him and kissed me hard. I kissed him back, relieved that I didn’t have to keep lying to him, relieved that I was finally getting what I wanted.
He kissed me hard, his tongue in my mouth, and I lost myself in him. He held me against his hard body, and I loved the way he kissed me. It was intense, needing, the sort of kiss that only came around a few times in a lifetime. It was the final release after a long, long dance.
He pulled my shirt off and tossed it aside. Then he kissed my neck. “Still going to pretend?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Good. I like when you play hard to get.”
“Why?”
“Makes it that much sweeter when I get what I want.”
I bit my lip as he pulled my bra off and felt my breasts, teasing my nipples with his tongue. I ran my hands through his thick hair and held on as he rolled me over onto my back.
I gasped as he unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them down my legs.
“You have a perfect fucking body,” he said as his fingers found my pussy. “And a wet little cunt. Fuck, girl, you’re dripping.”
“Owen,” I said as he began to rub my clit.
“You have no idea how hard it makes me when you say my name.” He kissed me again, his hand down my panties, working my pussy.
He pressed his fingers deep inside me. I spread my legs, letting him fuck me with his fingers. There was a voice deep in the back of my head screaming that I should stop, that I should back off. But I knew I couldn’t. I knew there was no stopping, not now, maybe not ever.
He just felt too damn good. Pleasure flooded my skin, flushing my cheeks, making me float. I loved it as I squirmed under his touch. He knew exactly what he was doing, working my pussy and back to my clit, teasing me with his fingers while he kissed me, licked my nipples, kissed my neck.
I was his in that moment. I couldn’t have gotten up even if I tried.
He moved farther down my body, his lips lingering along my hipbones as he slowly moved lower, pulling my panties down as he went.
He kissed my inner thigh, teasing me. He looked up at me, grinning. “Tell me what you want.”
“I don’t know,” I managed to gasp.
“You know. Say it.”
I bit my lip, shaking my head. “I can’t.”
“Tell me you want me to lick your pussy until you come against my lips.”
“I can’t say that.”
“Tell me you want me to taste you.” He just kept teasing me, his fingers gently rolling along my clit, his lips kissing everywhere but where I wanted them.
The anticipation was tearing me apart, but I wasn’t like Owen. I couldn’t say those dirty things like he did so effortlessly.
But I wanted it. His teasing, the way he was looking at me, I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t handle it. I needed his mouth between my legs.
“Taste me, Owen,” I moaned. “Please, taste me.”
He didn’t waste a second. His lips found my clit as he grabbed my hips. He began to lick me, soft and slow at first. His tongue moved in amazing circles around my clit, moving down into my pussy and back again, licking every part of me.
I reached down and grabbed his hair as I tipped my head back, moaning, not caring about anything but this moment. I could distantly hear the noises I was making, but I didn’t care at all. Owen was the only thing I wanted as he licked and worked me, his tongue moving around my clit. Pleasure was rocking through my body, taking me to somewhere else, making me forget about all the reasons why I shouldn’t be doing this.
Owen did that to me. I felt his fingers slide inside me as he licked my clit. He fucked my pussy as he sucked on me, his tongue rolling along. I pressed him harder as he fucked me with his fingers, pushing his face against my soaking pussy. I rolled my hips, lost in the moment, needing to come so badly.
He pressed his fingers deep inside me and looked up, a delicious smirk on his lips as he slid his fingers in and out. “Come for me,” he commanded. “I want to taste you coming in my fucking mouth.”
“Keep going,” I gasped. “Oh shit, Owen. I’m so close.”
“You fucking bad girl. Come in my mouth.” He went back to work, sucking my clit, his fingers sliding in and out of me.
I rolled my hips with him, my whole body tense, teetering on the edge. I was focused to a point of pure pleasure burning inside me as he kept working me, his fingers and mouth working together, sucking and licking.
Finally, I felt it wash over me. The orgasm flooded my body, tensing my muscles, making my body spasm up and back. I held his hair gripped between my fingers as I came, and for a second I thought I might black out.
But the orgasm passed, slowly, and he looked up at me, still sliding his fingers in and out gently.
“Good girl,” he said.
I lay there panting as he slowly pulled his fingers out and licked them clean. I shook my head, unable to say a word. He grinned at me and leaned up against the couch.
“This is exactly what I wanted,” he said.
“What is?”
“You lying there spent and speechless.”
I smiled, unable to stop myself. “You’re good at that.”
“God damn right I am.” He leaned down and gently kissed my lips.
Just then I heard his phone ringing in the other room. He looked up and frowned. “Be right back.”
I nodded as he got up and limped into his bedroom. I stared up at the ceiling, slowly getting ahold of myself.
I was so stupid. Doing this with Owen was just going to make things even more complicated. It was bad enough that I was trusting him on this injury thing, but if anyone found out about what we were doing now, I would definitely lose my job.
I stared up at the ceiling, mentally chastising myself. Though as much as I berated myself for making a stupid decision, I realized that I didn’t exactly regret it. Owen made me feel good, so incredibly good, and there wasn’t a lot of that in my life. Any good moment was important.
He came back into the room a couple minutes later. “Hey,” he said.
I sat up, getting dressed. “Hey.”
“Look, I’m really sorry about this.”
I frowned. “What?”
“I have to go in. That was Raylon. Coach wants to go over tape with the two of us this afternoon.”
“Oh,” I said. “Okay. That’s fine.” I finished dressing and stood.
“I’m not kicking you out.”
“I get it.”
I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say.
Owen walked over to me, grabbed my hips, and kissed me. He didn’t seem awkward or unsure at all.
When the kiss was done, I felt like my lips were tingling.
“I’ll see you later,” he said. “Feel free to hang around here if you want.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
He opened his door and was gone.
I stood there staring at his empty apartment for a second, not sure what to do.
Part of me thought that was a little convenient, but I knew Coach Kelly was always bringing in the players on off-hours for extra mental prep, and I was sure he would also bring Raylon in with Owen. He was probably trying to get Owen as much experience as possible since he was still a rookie.
I shook my head and left his apartment, summoning an Uber on my phone.
What a strange, amazing day.
12
Owen
My knee ached as I burst between the linemen. I saw Peter up ahead, ducking down, ready to tackle me, but I juked aside. He hit my side but couldn’t find any purchase as I pushed through into the secondary.
Coach blew his whistle and the play came to an end. So far, my knee was holding up. It ached a little bit, especially on those hard cuts, but I was running pretty well.
Maybe that extra rehab with Taylor the day before really had helped. Or maybe just getting a taste of her nice little pussy was enough to make me not give a shit about my pain.
&nb
sp; The girl was incredible. The way she kissed me, the way she tasted, everything about her made me want her more and more. Getting her to admit that she wanted me to suck her little clit until she came was the highlight of my fucking year, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Too bad I really had needed to go in for more fucking film training with Raylon. Knowing that I had to leave Taylor behind had fucking killed me as I sat there and talked strategy with Coach Kelly and Raylon, but it was my job. I had to do what Coach wanted. I couldn’t risk getting Taylor into any trouble just because I wanted to stay behind and tease her clit until she couldn’t breathe.
“You look strong out there,” Raylon said as I came over to the sidelines.
“Thanks, man.”
“Make sure you hit that A-gap hard. Shoulder down, ready to break a tackle. They’ll come hard at you.”
“Fuckers can’t take me down.”
“They can and they will. Don’t get a big head.”
I nodded. “You’re right. But they won’t get me every time.”
He grinned. “No, they won’t.”
I glanced over Raylon’s shoulder and caught Taylor looking at me. I grinned and she quickly looked away.
This morning’s session had been a little strained. I had flirted with her, and even went to kiss her again, but she had pulled back. She wanted things to be professional when we were at work. She didn’t want what had happened to change anything between us.
Bullshit, but if that was what she wanted, then that was what we’d do. She was clearly uncomfortable even looking at me in public, like people could somehow magically tell what had happened between the two of us.
I couldn’t blame her, though. If we got caught, she would lose her job, but I wouldn’t. They might be pissed at me for sleeping with my therapist, but they weren’t going to get rid of their starting running back over it. Maybe back when I was the backup rookie, maybe then they’d cut me for being an asshole.
Now, though, she was risking way more. I had to be aware of that if we were going to keep this thing up.
Practice went smoothly. After field work, I did some more therapy with Taylor, and she acted just as professional and distant as she had that morning. Overall, though, it was a good day. I didn’t hurt myself or push myself, and soon I was back in the locker room showering off.