SNATCHED (A Sports Romance)

by Harper James

  “These football players…I’m glad they’re good at the game, but I know they can be a challenge off the field. That’s why it’s so important to stick to a routine and a schedule, lest we run into more…arresting problems.”

  “Right,” I say, ignoring his terrible joke while simultaneously grateful that it effectively shoved the memories of Finn out of my head.

  “That’s all,” Dr. Reams says. “I’ll be collecting applications before the Thanksgiving holiday. I know how badly you want a spot in the program.”

  “I do. Thanks so much, Dr. Reams. And let me know about Finn’s future test scores?”

  “Naturally. His first exam is next Monday, as I’m sure you know, so do keep that in mind,” Dr. Reams says, and dismisses me by turning back to his computer screen.

  I leave the room, feeling somewhat calmed. Dr. Reams doesn’t know anything about our hookup.

  My phone is vibrates in my pocket. I lift it and see and unknown number— no way am I answering. As I’m walking home from class, a text from the same number appears.

  We’re having a session today, right?

  It’s Finn. I feel my stomach clench with the memory of how hard I came last night. My neck grows hot as I answer.

  We do.

  I realize I’ve gone still, standing like a statue in the middle of a busy campus sidewalk— but I don’t much care. When Finn responds, I press my lips together hungrily. Excitedly.

  Meet me at the Ansley Park house. Now.

  I take an Uber to the Ansley Park house, because that’s how fast I want to get there— who has time for public transit in this type of situation? I feel my stomach twisting with nerves, though I don't know why, exactly. What’s there to be nervous about? Nothing, really, save the fact that I’ll actually implode with excitement before I arrive.

  When I arrive I feel almost delirious with anticipation.

  “You got here fast,” he says, opening the front door.

  Seeing him again after last night makes me feel girly and scramble-y and generally freaked out. It makes the whole thing real in a way that even waking up in his bed didn’t.

  “Hi,” I say, a little stunned to hear my own voice sound so small and sweet.

  “Hi,” he answers, with none of my hesitation. He doesn’t look remotely nervous, a fact which doesn’t surprise me. I’m not sure Finn Thorne has ever been nervous in his life. He waves me around back. “Come inside. We’ve got a lot to get to,” he says, looking amused, but in a way that’s reassuring.

  I make my way up the steps, unsure what to expect when Finn draws me close to him. He lifts an eyebrow, then reaches out and pulls me to him.

  I look down at the ground, my heart thumping against my ribs “Are you going to mention the fact that you failed a quiz?”

  He shrugs. “It was just a quiz.”

  “Yes, but what about your test, Finn? It’s important.”

  “You’ll make sure I pass.” He ducks his head down until I lift my chin and ours lips meet. It’s not the deep, needy kiss from last night; it’s delicate, searching, asking. He licks at my lips, and when I allow his tongue into my mouth, it’s playing and gentle. Though, of course, it turns me on all the same.

  Finn moves aside so I can walk inside first. He has the television connected to his laptop, and is playing something to do with football— side by side comparisons of teams or plays or who even knows.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Me on the left, back in Florida. Adams on the right. The coaches put it together. Part of the reason Harton wanted me when I left Florida is because Adams and I play differently. They made a tape so I can identify and exploit those differences.”

  I watch Finn on the screen, deftly throwing the ball, running a play, his shoulders wide, his back straight. He looks in control, sexy, his body wired with energy, all muscle and power.

  “What are the differences? In layman’s terms. I don’t really understand football,” I say.

  Finn looks stricken. “What part don’t you understand?”

  “The part where you play football.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Finn says, grabbing his chest like he’s having a heart attack. “Nothing at all?”

  “It’s not really my thing.”

  “I’ll explain it to you,” Finn says, and starts toward the couch.

  I cough to stop him. “Don’t take it personally, but…if I wanted to understand football, I would already,” I say as gently as possible.

  Finn freezes, like he can’t handle this information. “But you go to Harton. You tutor football players!”

  “I tutor you,” I say. “And you happen to be a football player.”

  “Kenley,” he says. I cross my arms and laugh at him; he looks dismayed, but cracks a smile.

  “Sorry to break the illusion, Finn, but not everyone loves football. Though I do know a lot about curling. My grandfather was on the Canadian Olympic curling team in the fifties.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Finn mutters, and slumps onto the couch. “Alright. Though it doesn’t seem fair that I have to learn math from you,, but you won’t learn football from me.”

  “Math is an academic.”

  “Football is a national pastime.”

  “That’s baseball.”

  “A national pastime, not the national pastime. Do you even go to the football games?” As he says this, he motions for me to join him on the couch, and I do so.

  “I’ve been to them before, if I get lottery tickets. I like the whole crowd experience,” I admit.

  “You’ll come to one of the games they’re starting me in.”

  “Okay,” I say, nodding. “I’d love to watch you play.”

  “And in the meantime,” he says huskily, “I’ll just have to teach you something else.”

  This puts an end to the banter and leaves me blushing. Finn reaches over and pulls me closer to him, kisses my forehead, then eases my right leg over his lap so I’m straddling him. Like everything else, he does it so easily that I become incredibly aware of how strong he is.

  “You can’t just position me however you want, you know,” I say, but my voice is demure, a fact that isn’t lost on Finn.

  “Yes, I can,” Finn says in response, then cups my ass cheeks with his hands. He scoots me in closer, then kisses me again, this time deeper, then pulls away and lets his tongue trail down my neck. He nips at the skin there gently, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make me wet. Wetter, actually— I’m already soaked, I’m a little embarrassed to admit.

  “Mandy is mad at me for staying over with you,” I say suddenly. “We got in a big fight. It’s stupid. She thinks you’re trouble.” I don’t know why, exactly, I tell him— I didn’t even know I was going to tell him until the words came tumbling out of my mouth. Except that maybe…well. I don’t want to admit it, but maybe I’m a tiny bit worried that Mandy could be right. Not that I’d regret the last night with Finn even if she was, but…

  “I am trouble,” Finn answers plainly, without taking his hands off me.

  “Real trouble, I mean.”

  “I am real trouble,” Finn says. “I get in fights. I’m from the bad part of town. I can’t pass freshman math to save my life.”

  “I know,” I say. “You failed your quiz.”

  Finn shrugs. “Look, I know where I’m from and who I am. And I am trouble.”

  “Are you trouble for me?” I ask tentatively.

  It would have been easy for Finn to brush the question off, or to answer it with a glimmer in his eye. Instead he looks right at me. “I’ll try not to be.”

  I nod a little, then lean forward to kiss him, letting my hips rock against his legs. He makes a pleasured sound, then pulls my upper body forward so he can have a clear shot to spank me, a little harder than he did last night. He turns his face to see mine as he does so.

  “You like that,” he says, and I nod, chewing my lip. “Good,” he says, then spanks me again, just hard enough that it makes me ga
sp. “Tell me what you’ve done before.”

  “What?” I ask, so distracted by the lingering sting of the spanking that it takes me a moment to get the word out.

  “In bed. Tell me what you’ve done.”

  “Why?” I ask, astounded.

  “Because I told you, Kenley. I’m going to fuck you, hard, and I want to make sure you like it. Now, I’m not especially worried about that, given the way you screamed last night— but I also want to make sure I can give you something new. I was the first one to lick your pussy, you said?”

  I pant at the words, at the memory, at how confidently Finn said all this. My reaction seems to give Finn power; he smiles slightly, arrogantly, then reaches down for the hem of my shirt. I lift my arms and he pulls it off my head, tosses it aside.

  “Am I the first one to suck you here?” he asks, running his fingertips across my bra, He takes hold of my breasts gently, runs his thumbs across my nipples.

  “Yes,” I admit softly.

  Finn nods, then reaches around my back and unhooks my bra. I tremble as I feel the elastic release; he guides the straps off my shoulders and throws it on top of my shirt. Finn leans in and takes my left nipple into his mouth, pulling at it lightly with his teeth, and a strained, excited noise rises from my throat. He pinches my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolls it back and forth until it goes hard.

  Finn releases my breasts, then rises, holding me to his waist. He sets my feet down on the floor, making sure I’m balanced before releasing me. He tilts his head, brushes my hair away from my face and then steps back. His hair is tousled, and he’s already sporting a five o’clock shadow even though it’s mid-afternoon. He’s so strong, so big, everything about him so perfect. I start to fold my arms across my stomach, hyper-aware of his gaze—

  “No,” he says sternly. “I want to look at you.”

  I bite my lip again, but obey. Finn guides me a few steps back from the couch, then walks around behind me. He reaches around my waist and unbuttons, then unzips my jeans. I fist my hands to keep them from visibly trembling as he eases them down my thighs, then drops to his knees behind me.

  I can feel his breath on my ass, through my panties. Finn places one hand on the front of my thighs, to steady me, then lets the other wander up my inner thigh, until his fingertips brush against my pussy.

  “How had no one licked your clit before?” He muses to himself, then, to me, “Was that the truth? Really, no one has?”

  “I never let them,” I gasp as he draws his fingers back and forth, pressing just hard enough onto my panties that I feel the pressure. I desperately want more.

  “Why’d you let me?” he asks.

  “You didn’t ask,” I say, which is partially a joke, but partially true. He didn’t ask— and I liked that. I liked that he did what he knew would make me come hard, I liked that he did what he wanted to me, and that I trusted him to do it right.

  “See? I’m trouble, just like they all say,” he says huskily, then kisses my ass, letting his tongue trail along my panties until I’m dangerously close to a level of wetness that’s bordering on ridiculous.

  Finn slips his fingers into the crotch of my panties. I gasp and try to rock against them, but he pulls the fabric away rather than pushing his fingers up into me.

  “Patience,” he teases me. I look over my shoulder at him; I can only just see his hair, and it’s clear he’s staring at my ass, at my pussy, at his hand as he toys at me. “Have you ever been fucked before, Kenley?” He presses a finger against my entrance as he asks.

  “No,” I stammer.

  He inches his finger inside me.

  “I— oh, I— Finn—”

  “Look at you, baby. So innocent,” he says, and I can hear the sexy excitement in his voice. He tugs my panties down to my knees, where my jeans are, then stands. As he does so, he drags his fingers from my pussy to my ass. When a finger probes that entrance, I jump—

  “No one’s fucked you here, either, I’m guessing?” he teases, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

  “No, but I don’t know if I can—”

  “Shh,” he hushes me. “Not today. Don’t be scared. I’m just making sure I know.” He pushes slightly harder against my ass, until the tip of his finger is in me, in a place I’ve never let anyone touch before he put his tongue there last night. I moan unintentionally, and I hear the breath of a smile cross Finn’s face behind me. “Trouble,” he repeats.

  “I like it,” I answer.

  “Good.”

  My heart is pounding so hard I can hear the blood rushing through my ears.

  “Tell me what you want,” he says. “I don’t think you tell people what you want very often. I want to hear it.”

  “I— I want you to fuck me.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here?”

  “Anywhere you want. Please, Finn.”

  Finn grabs hold of my waist with one arm and lifts me, yanking my jeans and panties off with his other. For a moment, I worry he might drop me, but instead he swings me around so I’m cradled in his arms, fully naked. He looks hungry, like an animal on the prowl.

  “We’re starting in the bedroom,” he growls.

  Chapter 8

  Finn carries me upstairs, where we pass two small bedrooms before arriving at the master. It’s immaculately decorated, with a chandelier and a view of the Atlanta skyline. The bed has a silky looking quilt on it; Finn sets me down, and I lie back, trying to calm the throbbing between my legs, the want for him. He watches me— no one has ever stared at me the way he does— then pulls his shirt over his head, once again revealing a rippling set of abs.

  “Come here,” he says, beckoning me to the edge of the bed. I turn over onto my stomach and turn around. Finn steps up against the bed and guides my hand to the erection pressing against his pants. “Go on,” he tells me when my fingers linger on the elastic of the basketball shorts he’s wearing.

  I hesitate just for a moment and then and pull them down, then his boxers, and can’t stop the excitement from showing on my face when his cock is exposed. It’s as big as I remembered, and the fact that it’s so incredibly hard for me is a turn on like I’ve never known. Without hesitation I lean forward and take it in my mouth; Finn groans and grabs hold of my hair, swivels his hips around so that his cock rolls against my lips.

  I suck him, moving up and down as he guides my head. We fall into a rhythm, and the feel of him in my mouth is getting me even wetter than I already am.

  “Don’t think I won’t come in your mouth, Kenley,” he mutters as he looks down at me, watching me with his dick in my mouth. Even though I’ve never been into it before, the idea of him shooting come down my throat thrills me. Still, I know what I want right now— what I need right now. I release his cock and look up at him expectantly.

  Finn is breathing heavy; he nods a little at me, then walks to the nightstand and tugs the door open. He withdraws a box of condoms and tears the wrapper, then hands it to me. I grab for his cock and carefully unroll the condom down to its base— or as close to the base as it can get, given how thick he is. The fact that even the condom is struggling with his size frightens me, but in a way that’s not exactly unpleasant.

  “Nervous?” Finn asks, watching me carefully.

  I look up at him and think about lying. But I can’t. “Very,” I admit.

  Finn smiles, taps underneath my chin. “I like that. Turn over.”

  I obey instantly, rolling onto my back and spreading my legs for him. Finn climbs on top of me, seeming broader and taller and heavier now that I’m underneath him. He kisses me hard on the mouth, his tongue pushing through my lips. He gently squeezes one of my breasts, then lets his hands drifts down to my pussy. He locks his eyes on mine as he rubs my clit for a moment, not enough to make me come, but enough to make me feel like lightening.

  “We’ll start easy,” he says, and I feel him positioning his cock at my entrance. I close my eyes— “No, lo
ok at me,” he says firmly. My eyes spring open, and are on his at the moment he slowly, fully slides his cock into me.

  “Finn –” I grasp his shoulders as the sharp pain starts between my legs.

  “Shhh,” he says, “Just relax, baby.”

  I do what he says, trying to relax as he gets me used to his cock, working it into my tightness. I’m not sure I can handle it, but eventually my pussy starts to take him, and I cry out in pleasure, at how incredibly full I feel, and Finn moans, deep and guttural.

  “Finn,” I gasp again— he’s still entering me, still pushing farther, and long after I think he must be as deep as he can go, I feel his hipbones tap against my thighs.

  “You’re alright?” he asks without moving, like he’s giving me a second to adapt.

  I take a breath, unsure how to answer that for a moment— am I alright? I’m not sure if this is painful or pleasurable, but I know I want more. I nod frantically, unable to form words, and Finn smiles, then begins to slowly, gently thrust into me.

  “There you go,” Finn murmurs as I begin to relax, as my legs spread further. “Just wait, Kenley. Eventually I’ll be able to fuck you so hard…”

  “I want that now,” I manage, voice weak. It feels like my fingers and toes are on fire, and I feel an orgasm different than what I normally experience— one that’s deeper, one that’s starting at my core and feels like it might tear me apart when it comes.

  Finn smiles at me, and thrusts a bit harder. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, baby. We’ll have to practice to get there. But I promise, we’re going to practice.” He groans again, then sits back on his knees, pulling my hips with him. He fucks me thrusting his cock into me but only ever withdrawing a few inches.

  The constant pressure in my pussy is what’s causing that deep, core orgasm to build, to grow stronger, to make my eyes feel hot and my breath too short. I feel my breasts bouncing with each push, I feel my wetness starting to drip onto the silken quilt, but I don’t care about anything right now, just the way Finn’s cock feels in me, the way—-

  “I’m going to come,” I whisper, or at least, try to whisper. Finn grabs my hips and pulls me tight up against his groin, thrusting faster, though not harder. A wave of heat and joy and exhaustion crashes into me, and for a few seconds I feel like I’m drowning, like I may pass out.