Winter Miracle

by Teagan Kade

  “I don’t know if they have wheelchair access,” jokes Hunter.

  Coach slaps him on the ass. “You forget, I was your age once—neck deep in pussy, too.”

  Hunter gags. “And there goes my lunch.”

  Coach pushes himself away. “So be it, but seriously, boys, good work.”

  He saunters off to talk to the college press.

  Hunter starts to jog off. “I’m hitting the showers… or one of those Christmas tree cheerleaders, whatever comes first.”

  “Just make sure you’re wearing a rubber when you do,” I shout after him. “It’s way too early for baby Becketts yet.”

  There’s a tap on my shoulder.

  I turn expecting another fan, but it’s Indy.

  She’s wearing the jersey I gave her. “Indy.”

  She holds up the hem of the jersey. “Can you sign this for me?”

  “I thought you were avoiding me.”

  She looks away for a moment. “You know, I was, but then everyone started telling me to stay away from you, so…”

  “And you don’t like being told what to do.” I smile.

  “I do not.”

  “You are a rebellions punk rocker. It makes total sense.”

  She smiles at that, and fuck me is it good to see.

  I try not to let the excitement get the better of me. “So it’s on?”

  “I have conditions.”

  “Name them,” I say, knowing I’ll do anything to taste her again, have her in my arms.

  “If we’re going to be together, it has to be a secret. No one can know.”

  “Can I at least ask why?”

  She shakes her head. “You have to take my word for it.”

  I’m this close. Don’t fuck it up now. “Done. Anything else?”

  “You promise me you’re not going to ditch me the moment we… you know.”

  I’m going to leave this field with the world’s biggest hard-on at this rate. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “But you’ve done it before.”

  “That was different. They were different.” I step closer to her, helmet under my arm.

  “How do you know?”

  I reach up to hold her face before I remember her first condition and let it drop. “Because I look at you and I can picture you there in the morning, picture myself making you pancakes and running my hand between your legs, because all I want to do is make you happy, Indy. And fuck it, I don’t really know why. All I know is that I want you—now, tomorrow, the next day. So, please, trust me.”

  She breathes in, holds it. I see the heat building in her eyes, the need. “Let’s go.”

  *

  I know Hunter and Colton will be waiting for me at The Lab as per our usual post-game party, but not tonight.

  I can’t get the key in the lock fast enough back home, shoving the door wide and pulling Indy into my arms as soon as we’re inside.

  I kiss her, hard, and she returns, pinned against the wall while I lift my undershirt free, tossing it to the floor.

  Her hands run down my arms, down the ink there, and I’m fucking electric.

  God, I can’t get enough of her. She pants against my lips, groaning.

  I fall to my knees and tug her jeans down, unhooking them off her ankles. I do the same with her panties, stripping her bare and taking in the sight of her perfect sex, the scent of her arousal, the heat.

  Her hands fall onto my head. She’s breathing so hard I’m genuinely concerned for her wellbeing.

  Not yet.

  I stand and strip my pants and jockstrap away in one action, my rock-hard cock bobbing free.

  Her eyes go wide.

  “Wow, they weren’t kidding, were they?”

  I take hold of it, stroke it. “He’s all yours.”

  She reaches out tentatively and grips the base. “It’s so… hot.”

  “Only for you,” I add, pulling her back into a kiss, hand and cock crushed between us, the root of it sitting against her sex.

  I run my hands under her shirt and lift, popping her bra up on the way.

  She pushes me away. “Wait.”

  Fuck.

  “Let me do it.”

  I watch as she brings her shirt over her head and unclasps her bra from the back, leaning forward to let it fall away.

  And now I see. Deep scarring is cross-hatched across her shoulders, reaching down her side to finish somewhere around the middle of her hips. I’ve seen this kind of scar tissue before, remembering when a five-year-old Colton learned what happens when you let your hand sit on the stovetop.

  Indy blushes hard, covering the scars with her arm. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”

  I pull her hand away. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “It’s disgusting. I am—”

  I put a finger on her lips. “No. I’m in this for you, all of you. In fact, I think it’s kind of badass.”

  Her eyes light again. “You do?”

  My cock twitches, desperate to be inside her.

  Wait.

  To show her I’m serious, I run my fingers up her side slowly, run them over the leathery ridges of her scars, let them rest on her shoulder at the worst of it. “I don’t know where these came from, or what happened,” I tell her, “but I want you to know it’s never going to happen again. I’m going to keep you safe.”

  A tear runs down her cheek. “You can’t promise that.”

  “Watch me.”

  “Are you sure?” She looks to her shoulder. “It’s not exactly pretty.”

  I cock an eyebrow at her. “I can’t say I know many men who get off on the state of a woman’s shoulder.” My eyes drop down her body. “I, personally, like a nice ass, soft, well-weighted breasts.” I glide my hand up her side. “You’re killing it on those fronts, and your pussy? Jesus, don’t even get me started on your pussy.”

  “You’re dirty,” she says in a whisper.

  I take hold of a breast, thumbing the nipple back and forth until it firms. “Life’s pretty fucking boring clean.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  INDY

  I’m so nervous it’s insane. It’s my first time all over again… less the McDonalds and leather upholstery.

  Cayden picks me up, slamming me against the wall. My eyes lock on his, wide, before his lips come down on my own, and damn it, I’m kissing him.

  I let go, kissing him back with as much urgency as his tongue slips past my lips. I moan against his mouth. He devours me back with a kiss that demands everything of me.

  His fingers find my hair, raking through it as his free hand slides down to my ass to pull me closer to his hardness between us.

  He leans back, his hungry, glacial eyes boring through me. “In-fucking-credible.”

  I pull in a quick breath before his lips are on me again. I hold his shoulders, feel the muscle coiled below firm and solid, and there’s heat. His skin’s so hot I’m surprised we’re not self-combusting.

  He grips my hair tighter, pulls me into him closer, desperate for more. He lifts me with one hand, my feet leaving the floor, my ankles hooked against his ass.

  I break away enough to moan, panting against the side of his face while he cradles my ass.

  He walks, holding me aloft, shadow and light passing until I realize we’re in his room.

  My breath catches when he drops me onto the bed.

  My eyes lock on it, the giant, throbbing totem of it—the pride of Abbotsleigh.

  I gasp as he takes hold of my ankles, dragging me down to the end of the bed.

  He starts to kneel. “I’m going to make you come now. Do you have a problem with that?”

  It seems I’ve lost the capacity for speech, so I simply shake my head from side to side.

  His head vanishes between my thighs, my hands reaching out to pull at the sheets in anticipation.

  His lips fasten themselves to my clit.

  Oh. My. God.

  My eyes literally roll back in my head, his tongue f
licking and rolling. He sucks and nips, a complete master.

  I’m moaning loud, but I don’t care. My core tightens and he pushes me onto a new plane of pleasure with his mouth. It’s so different to anything I’ve felt before. One of my hands reaches out for his head, unable to decide if it should push him away or pull him closer.

  Tighter and tighter, I become a coil in wait. I pant, stop, pant, stop as his tongue works until I cannot take a single second more.

  My climax hits hard, a swelling surge of euphoria. It smashes through my body, causing it to jerk and lift from the bed, a nonsense string of syllables leaving my mouth as his lips close around my pulsing clit.

  I writhe, levitating from the bed, coming over and over, until he breaks away and I can finally collapse, spent.

  He climbs over my body, sliding over me and reaching for the drawers beside the bed. I hear foil being torn, a momentary pause as he sheathes himself, but still he watches me, unable to take his eyes off my own.

  I draw my legs up the side of his body, my knees bent and ankles locked at the small of his back. I’m completely open for him. He shudders, gripping his cock and placing himself against the slick opening of my sex.

  In this moment, burning up from the inside out, I’ve never felt so sexy.

  Goosebumps pebble my skin. I’m sweating. There are noises coming from outside as people make their way back from the stadium, the win, but his only focus is on me, on my waiting body.

  His hips rock forward. My breath catches, caught in my throat.

  Slowly, he presses inside.

  I whimper, trying to lift my hips to take him deeper, feel him filling me, but he takes his time. I’m under his control, pinned below him, at his mercy.

  His hand runs up my arm, our fingers interlocking as he holds my gaze, lips parted.

  He draws it out, slowly rocking back and forth until I’m going completely crazy, begging him to take me, to fuck me, the word foreign coming from my mouth but empowering all the same.

  He lifts up, a sliver of space between our bodies, before he loses it.

  He drives in hard, filling me from the initial thrust, hammering into me and hitting every hot, slick spot inside me. A knot starts to tighten in my stomach, the familiar tug of impending orgasm overtaking my senses.

  Not again.

  He keeps up the pace, pumping and pounding, never letting up, his balls clapping against my ass as he fucks me. And I’m shouting with enthusiasm, lost in it, pleading for him to let me come before I pass out, pinned below him.

  He grunts, his own climax calling.

  It’s my undoing.

  I come, twice as powerfully as the first time, exploding internally, my pussy convulsing around his thick cock, my voice guttural as I let everything out, jerking mindlessly against him.

  He stiffens, his head falling onto the patchwork of scars against my shoulder. He moans in release, jerking there, his cock convulsing inside me.

  I lay there, blissfully crushed, until his head rises. His breathing remains heavy, his manhood continuing to pulse. He smiles, cheeks flushed, watching me. “And you say you’re not into sport.”

  “Sport?” I protest. “That was not sport. That was…” I hunt for the word. “Spiritual.”

  He lifts off me, standing to pull off the condom. I sit up, tender between my legs, loving the way his ass flexes as he walks, his still-hard cock bobbing against his chest.

  He turns, catching my gaze. “Nice, isn’t it?”

  I pick up his jeans, tossing them at him. “Asshole,” I smile.

  He smiles, disappearing into the bathroom.

  I collapse onto the bed and spread my legs.

  Give that thing some air, girl. Damn.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CAYDEN

  I manage to sneak Indy out just before Hunter and Colton return home, leaning on each other half-hammered.

  I place two beers on the breakfast bar. “You guys are early.”

  Hunter swipes his beer up. “And you look way too chuffed with yourself considering you didn’t join us at The Lab tonight. We were swimming in it, bro.”

  I span my arms out, deflecting the question. “And yet, here you are.”

  But they know me too well. We’re bound by the bond of brotherhood. Hunter could break his leg on the field tomorrow and I’d feel it.

  Colton taps the side of the beer bottle on the bar. He sniffs the air. “I smell fucking.”

  Hunter joins him, eyeballing me. “Oh, shit. You did it, didn’t you? You did her.”

  Try as I might, I cannot wipe the smile from my face. “She wants to keep this thing on the down-low, completely secret, and you two cock jockeys are going to keep your pie holes shut. Am I clear?”

  Hunter laughs. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Does she want to keep this a secret? Have you asked yourself that?”

  I have, but it’s not important. I’d help her hide a body if it meant another night with her. “Come on, man. She’s not like the others. She doesn’t want the attention. It’s refreshing, actually.”

  Colton narrows his gaze. “You sure that’s it, bro?”

  “No,” I state, my defenses rising. “But she asked me and I’m respecting her wishes, as will you.”

  Hunter almost falls off his stool, choking on his beer. “Cayden ‘Bone Them All’ Beckett is talking about respect? What next? An interview on Oprah? Tampon commercials?”

  I lean forward and punch him in the shoulder. “You’re just jealous.”

  He takes a swig, grimacing a little but covering it well. “You know me. I’m not short of a place to park my old man. Did you even get a shot of her, for your ‘records’?”

  I shake my head. “She said no social media, no photos.”

  Colton whistles. “Not even a quick shot for the hall of shame?”

  “I deleted it.”

  Hunter stands. “The entire gallery? Fuck me. You are serious about this one.”

  I nod, leaning over the breakfast bar, my cock filling thinking about the way her lips pressed against mine, the intoxicating way she came. “She’s a game-changer, boys.”

  The two stare at each other.

  “So,” I continue, “what happened at the Lab?”

  They exchange another look.

  Hunter speaks first. “Dwayne.”

  I pound my fist on the bench. “Fucking hell. What did he do this time?”

  “The dipshit spilled his drink on Rickey,” adds Colton.

  “Deliberately?” I question.

  Hunter’s nod confirms it. “He was trying to get a rise out of us.”

  Fucking Dwayne. The lack of field time he saw tonight probably didn’t help, but screw him. If he wants to get off the bench, he should up his game. “He knows we’re on thin ice with the Dean.”

  Hunter raps his knuckles against the side of his head. “He’s not right up here, Cay. We have to watch out for him.”

  Colton breathes out. “Almost turned into a full-on bar fight… until Lucy intervened, kicked us all out.”

  “Probably for the best,” I add.

  Colton tilts his beer at Hunter. “Now, that Lucy. There is a catch.”

  Hunter laughs, bowing back on his stool. “I told you, I’m looking for a warm place to stick my dick, not something that’s going to bite it off.”

  Colton looks between us. “Aren’t you all on the same fucking team anyway? It’s fucking ridiculous. You don’t get any of this macho, bum-fiddling bullshit in lacrosse.”

  “Because you’re too busy blowing each other,” Hunter smiles.

  Sometimes Colton makes it too easy.

  The two of them go tumbling onto the floor. I watch them, half-amused and half-vexed, because Colton’s right. It is bullshit.

  *

  The humidity’s close to one-hundred-percent today. I’m breaking a sweat before I’m even out the front door, making my way across campus.

  Indy steps out from under a tree to meet me. She’s
wearing khaki shorts and a shirt that reads ‘Straight Outta Mordor’ just like the NWA album.

  I almost reach forward to kiss her, take a handful of that perfect ass, but she pulls back holding her shirt. “Too nerdy?”

  “Only if you start speaking Elvish.”

  She steps forward and stands on her tippy-toes to whisper in my ear. She’s sweating, the natural musk her body is giving off bringing my cock to attention. “Ni mere, your hrondo” she slurs.

  “What did you say?”

  She draws back and winks.

  I shake my head. “Who knew geek could sound so sexy?”

  “Wait until I bring out my elf ears.”

  “I want to touch you so badly right now,” I confess.

  She nods, head downcast. “I know, but not here, not in public.”

  I almost ask why, but reconsider. “You’re driving me crazy. Do you know how hard my cock is right now?”

  She comes to my ear again. “Down, boy.”

  She walks away.

  “Fuck me,” I breathe out.

  I catch up to her, a gaggle of Phi Gamma sisters blowing kisses as they pass by. One of them lifts her top.

  Indy swings her arms as she walks. “I bet you’re used to that kind of attention.”

  “I am, but honestly? It gets kind of old. You’re much more,” I search for the word, “stimulating.”

  “Is that why you’re studying law? Because you need something stimulating to satiate that big ol’ brain of yours?”

  I raise my eyebrow at her. “You know, for a Big Bang Theory casting call, you sure know how to roll out the sexual innuendo.”

  She looks down at my crotch. “Maybe I’ve been inspired.”

  “Maybe.”

  “So,” she pushes, “why law? There are a lot of easier degrees, especially considering how much time you must have to commit to the Trojans. Your coach looked kind of scary.”

  I scratch the fresh stubble on my chin. “Adolf Hitler was scary. Coach? He’s something else again, a robot sent back in time to deliver nothing but pain.”

  “So a Terminator, only with a whistle and clipboard instead of a shotgun and great leather jacket?”

  I snap my fingers. “Precisely, but to answer your question, I didn’t really have a choice. Three generations of Becketts have studied law at Abbotsleigh, played with the Trojans, though none have made it to the NFL. I’m going to put an end to that.”