SNATCHED (A Sports Romance)

by Harper James

  I scream— scream like I’ve never screamed in bed before, grab the quilt and twist it around my fingers until my knuckles are surely white. Finn is saying something, but I can’t hear him, I can’t hear anything as I come harder than I came last night, harder than I thought was possible— the sort of orgasm I thought only existed in movies and women’s magazines.

  “There we go. Relax, baby,” Finn is saying a few moments later. I open my eyes— only then realizing they were closed— and see Finn is over me, is pushing now-sweaty hair from my face. I feel his cock pressed against my stomach, wet from being inside me.

  “That was amazing,” I croak.

  “Turn over,” he says, his voice low and sexy. “I’m far from done.”

  I roll over onto my stomach. Finn grabs my hips and lifts them up, leaving my upper body flat on the bed. When his thumb grazes my asshole, I don’t flinch— I lean into it.

  “Kenley,” he growls in pleasure. “I thought you said you were nervous.”

  “I was,” I say, and perhaps somewhere deep down, I still am. After that orgasm, though, I would honestly let Finn do anything he wanted to me. If he can make me orgasm like that, I’m willing to try absolutely anything.

  Finn spanks me on the ass hard, then positions himself behind me. I moan when he pushes into me; it’s an entirely new sensation. I can feel his body slapping against mine, I can feel his cock rubbing against the front of my pussy.

  He grabs hold of my ass as he fucks me, letting one thumb rest over my asshole, gently toying with it as he thrusts. That along is enough to make my body light up; when he reaches underneath me and rubs my clit with his other hand, I think the world may split in half—

  He slows, pulls his hand away and slides his cock out of me. “Keep going, please, please don’t stop,” I beg, voice muffled by the blankets.

  “Jesus, baby, you’re going to make me come,” Finn says. “I’m not going to be able to stop myself. Your pussy is so tight, Kenley. Did you know that?”

  I shake my head and push my hips back, trying to get him back inside me.

  “Shhh, no,” he says, and slaps me on the ass, then again, when he hears the way I moan in response. He rubs my clit again, teases my entrance with his cock. “I’m going to make you come a few more times.”

  “I—” I pant, unable to form words until he takes his hand from my clit.

  “Quiet,” Finn says, and I can tell by his tone that he has complete confidence in his ability to make me come again. I realize, for the first time, that this isn’t going to be a quick hookup. Finn plans on us being here a while. A long while.

  Understanding that makes me surrender in a way I never have before— a way I never would, if it wasn’t Finn I was surrendering to. I swallow, lift my upper body off the mattress, and look at him over my shoulder. He’s still so impossibly attractive; when I look down and see his cock, knowing it’s been inside me, it makes me feel drunk.

  “Finn,” I say, licking my lips.

  “Yes?” he asks, and I get the impression that whatever I’m about to say, he planned on it happening. Like he knew he would get me to this point, and is pleased with his work.

  I brush my hair behind my ears, where it clings to the layer of sweat covering my body. “I want you to do whatever you want to me. I want to be yours.”

  Finn smiles at me, tilts his head to the side. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, baby?”

  I shake my head. “Please. Fuck me. Don’t stop fucking me.”

  Finn’s eyes go dangerous and hungry and excited. He grabs my left ass cheek, squeezes it, then gently pushes me back to the mattress. This time, when he thrusts his cock into me, it’s swift, and there’s even a splash of pain before it all gives way to pleasure. He fucks me, not nearly as hard as I know he could, but hard enough that I have to brace myself against the headboard. After a moment he leans down over me, grabs my upper body, and lifts me up against him, holding me up on his cock as he grinds into me.

  “I wanted to make this last,” he growls into my ear, “but hearing you want me to make you mine is too hot for me to keep pacing myself.”

  I can’t speak— everything feels too good. I can feel his cock inside me, can feel the blood pumping through it, can feel myself full of him and I want him to come in me so badly I feel the need to shout it, if only I could find the words.

  Finn groans, or maybe it’s a growl, into my ear and grasps me tighter against him, then finds my clit with one hand, rubbing it as he fucks me, until I feel like every hand I have on reality is sliding away.

  “I’m going to come,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re going to make me come right in that tight little pussy.”

  “Harder,” I manage, and Finn moans at the word, thrusting into me deeper, deeper, deeper, until I feel my muscles clench and my clitoris tightening. My orgasm hits me moments before I hear Finn shout from pleasure; he clutches me as he comes in my pussy, bites at my shoulder as his hand trembles against my clit from the force of his own orgasm.

  I’m swept away by the sensation of it all, and as the orgasm trails away from my body, I slump forward, held upright only by Finn’s arms, which are so tight around me that I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to.

  Finn’s grip slowly looses; he lays me down onto the bed as gently as he can, though he seems to be struggling to maintain his own composure. He falls down beside me, then pulls me against him, just as he did last night. We’re both drenched, and I can tell I’ll be sore tomorrow— and also that I won’t regret it one bit.

  Finn lowers his hand to remove the condom. Before I think about it I lower my head and lick the top of his cock. Finn strokes my head, and I take him a little deeper into my mouth, massaging his cock with my tongue for a moment before finally releasing him. The taste of his come is sweet and salty, and when I lick my lips Finn shakes his head, as if in wonder.

  “You’re not what I expected when we first met, mathlete,” he say, voice gentle. No, adoring. His voice is adoring, and it makes me glow.

  “Neither are you,” I say, running a finger up to the head of his cock until he moans. I smile, then nestle back down into his arms.

  Chapter 9

  “So then I use this to solve it?” Finn asks the next morning, pointing to the x.

  It’s only nine o’clock, but I insisted we get up early and have a tutoring session before class. Finn insisted on fucking me again this morning, even though we did it three more times last night, taking a break to order pizza and watch the new Bradley Cooper movie OnDemand.

  “No— you can’t. Not yet, because you haven’t solved this here,” I say, rapping the tip of my pen on the other side of the equation. Textbooks and papers are spread across the bed. Finn has put on a pair of boxers, but I’m still naked, lying underneath one of the expensive sheets.

  “Ok. I get it.”

  “Really?” I ask doubtfully.

  “Yes,” Finn says. “But it’s still useless.”

  “That’s an argument high schoolers make,” I say, rolling my eyes at him unapologetically. He frowns at me, but I can tell from the glint in his eyes that he knows I’m right about that one.

  “What time is it?” he asks, raising up on his elbows to look over me. He kisses my shoulder blades as he does so, and it sends a current rippling down my body. “I have class in an hour.”

  “What class?”

  “Reading, I think?” he plays ignorant, shrugging like he doesn’t quite know the title.

  “English?” I answer, failing to hide a smile.

  “That’s the one,” Finn says. “Then one of my major courses. Then I’m at practice till late. So, mathlete, I might not see you again today. Unless I can drive you to class.”

  “Drive? You have a parking spot?” I ask, astounding. A parking spot on the Harton campus is more valuable than a Friday-free course schedule.

  “Naturally. Football perk,” he says cockily, and I shove him. “How about it? Where’s your first class?”


  “It’s on North Campus—”

  “Great, we can go together.”

  “I just um…I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I finish. Finn looks confused, so I go on. “All the faculty know my mom, so they all know me and Mandy. If someone sees us together and realizes we aren’t…uh…a normal tutor-client relationship, then it’ll just cause all sorts of problems. And I’m just starting work on my application for Dr. Reams’ summer internship…and besides, I’ve seen the way all the local papers and football nerds treat football girlfriends. It’s a nightmare.”

  “Girlfriend?” Finn asks, and my face goes dark red.

  “Not that I’m saying we— I don’t mean that now that we’ve had sex I’m…it was just a figure of speech.”

  Finn leans over and kisses my shoulder again, this time lifting his eyes to mine as he does so. “I’m not offended by the word girlfriend.”

  “Oh,” I say, relieved, happy, a little alarmed. Was I okay with the word “girlfriend”? I hadn’t been someone’s girlfriend before, but the idea of being Finn’s made my stomach fluttery.

  “Though,” Finn says, turning over to lie on his back, “you might be the first person I’ve ever dated who wants to keep it all on the down-low.”

  “Technically, we’ve never dated. We’ve just had sex and learned math.”

  “Lies. I took you to breakfast.”

  “And then got arrested.”

  “I’ll take you back there. Make it up to you.”

  “Are you kidding? Do you know how mad Dr. Reams was about that? If you want breakfast with me again, you’re going to have to make it yourself,” I say, and roll over against him, wrapping my bare legs around his.

  “Deal,” he says. “You underestimate me. My dad wasn’t around, remember? Yours truly was in charge of breakfast on Sunday mornings. And I was a line cook at IHOP in high school. You’re going to be tired of pancakes by the time I’ve had my way with you.”

  “That’s…the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. You made breakfast? Like, for you and your mom?”

  “When she was home,” he says, shrugging. There’s something to the way he says this, something weighted.

  “Was she one of those early-morning-church-on-Sunday types?” I ask cautiously, unsure if I’m potentially complimenting or insulting his mother.

  Finn laughs again, but this time there’s not much humor in it. “Hardly. She was one of those out-late-Saturday-night types. Sometimes I wouldn’t see her at all between Friday afternoon and Monday.”

  “Oh,” I say, gathering myself— his words hit my mind like a brick, and I’m not quite sure how to recovery. “That’s…not fun.”

  “It was life,” he says, and shrugs it off, but I can tell by the way he’s avoiding my eyes that it isn’t just life— that it’s a wound that hasn’t entirely healed. “I need to get going to class.”

  “Alright. I need to go too,” I say awkwardly. I’m disappointed that he shut down, but not necessarily surprised, either. We both rise and begin to dress. I’m sore, especially for the first few moments. Finn notices, and concern clouds his face.

  “I didn’t really hurt you, did I?”

  I shake my head. “No. I just…you’re big, Finn.”

  He grabs a shirt from his duffle bag and tosses it to me, along with a pair of sweatpants. The clothes smell like his laundry detergent, and I inhale their scent.

  Finn lets me off at my apartment, so I can change clothes. Mandy knows where I was this time – I texted her last night so she wouldn’t worry -- but that doesn’t stop her from looking angry when I walk in. In fact, I reason that’s why she looks angry. The expression is gone in a flash, though, and I realize it’s because Bradley is sitting on the couch.

  “Hey, Bradley,” I say warmly.

  “Kenley, out all night,” he teases, tsking me as he takes in the fact that I’m wearing Finn’s clothes. “That football player again?”

  “You told him?” I ask Mandy, horrified.

  Mandy shrugs. “Is it a secret?”

  “I don’t exactly want who I’m sleeping with to be public record.”

  “So you are sleeping with him, now?” Mandy asks, lifting her eyebrows.

  “You’re using protection, right? Those guys fuck everything that moves. There’s no telling what kind of STDs he’s packing,” Bradley says, looking genuinely concerned.

  “Okay, these are not conversations I want to have at ten o’clock in the morning,” I say, and head into the kitchen. Mandy is intentionally taking up more counter space than is entirely necessary, given that she’s literally opening a container of yogurt, but I shoulder her out of my way in order to toast an English muffin.

  “I’m just saying, you have to be cautious. Guys like him go through girls like they’re toys,” Bradley says. “Stewart Adams is definitely like that. I think it’s a quarterback thing, in particular.”

  “I’ll be careful. Thanks,” I say shortly, without looking at him. I’m focused on the toaster, but from the weight of the silence that follows I know Bradley and Mandy are giving each other a look, likely accompanied by a disappointed head shake.

  “Bradley’s taking me to the climbing gym today,” Mandy says, changing the subject in an incredibly intentional voice.

  “Since when do you like climbing walls?” I ask.

  “She doesn’t know if she likes them,” Bradley says, and he’s suddenly beside us in the kitchen. He wraps his arms around Mandy’s waist and rocks against her, kissing her neck. “You’re going to love it.”

  “She’s afraid of heights,” I point out.

  “I need to conquer that,” Mandy says, like this is super obvious.

  “Why? Just don’t go to a climbing gym. There’s nothing to conquer. It’s not like you’re afraid of cars, or sticks.”

  “Maybe you and Finn can come with us,” Mandy says flatly.

  I pause. She’s baiting me, and I know it. “We can’t. He has practice.”

  “Tomorrow then,” Bradley says, sweetly oblivious.

  “We’re not being public about our relationship,” I say plainly, turning to face them. “With mom and Dr. Reams and the way football girlfriends get hounded by the paper, it’s not worth it.”

  “Girlfriend?” Mandy asks, eyebrows shooting to the ceiling. “Seriously?”

  “Whoa. I thought this was just a dirty hookup. Does he know you’re using the word girlfriend?” Bradley asks.

  “He does. And look, we’re just…we are what we are right now, okay? My point is, we’re not going rock climbing. Thanks for asking. Really. Have fun conquering your fears, Mandy,” I say, and whisk from the room.

  “She seems mad,” Bradley whispers when he thinks I’m out of earshot. Dear, sweet, innocent Bradley. You have no idea how sister passive aggression works, do you?

  Chapter 10

  I’ve only been to a dozen or so Harton football games since I started school here. I nearly always go to the homecoming one, since it’s a huge event and everyone goes. And then I usually make it to one of the other big games, the sort where there’s tailgating beforehand and a party afterward. The only other times I go is if a friend is in town, or someone happens to have an extra ticket and I don’t have anything else to do.

  On Sunday, the person that happens to have an extra ticket is Bradley, who not only has an extra ticket for me, but an extra ticket for my sister (of course) and my mother.

  “It’s so sweet of his family to give us these!” my mom says as we walk from her office toward the stadium. “I’m sure they could have sold them for a nice chunk of change.”

  “Probably,” Mandy confirms, looking pleased. I suspect that Bradley’s family would never dream of selling tickets. That’d be gauche. Besides, if you can afford season VIP tickets, you probably don’t need an extra thousand bucks.

  Finn could have gotten us tickets for free, I feel like saying. He’s offered me tickets a couple of times this week, but I turned him down. I’m just paranoid about anyone knowing
we’re together. Even though we’ve been spending time together at the Ansley Park house, studying and fucking. I blush just thinking about it.

  But I had to go to the game when Bradley offered us tickets.

  To say no would have invited all sorts of unwanted questions from my mom.

  “But why haven’t I met this boy before now?” Mom asks Mandy, though there’s a gentle edge to her question— like she already knows she’s going to like him, but wants to give Mandy a hard time out of motherly duty.

  “We were just casual for a while, Mom. Not everyone has to be instantly serious,” Mandy answers as we inch closer to the center of campus. Harton as a whole is a shrine to football on game days, but it’s still remarkable how the closer we get to the stadium, the more devoted the worshippers become.

  Where we parked— the permitted science department spots— there were only a handful of professors, using their coveted campus spots to park close and walk to the stadium. As we pass the business school, we start to see painted faces; once the student center comes into view, it’s hard to locate a single person without a Harton-themed temporary tattoo on their cheek, and flatly impossible to find anyone not wearing school colors.

  “Well, what do you think of him, Kenley? Is he good enough for your sister?” Mom asks.

  “What’s that even supposed to mean?” Mandy asks, laughing like Mom was joking. “He’s got great grades, he’s an athlete, he comes from a good family, and he’s hot.”

  “So was your father,” Mom says flatly.

  “That’s totally different,” Mandy says. “Besides, he gave us amazing tickets.”

  “That doesn’t default make him great,” I point out.

  My mom’s eyebrows raise. “So he’s not great?”

  Mandy scowls over Mom’s shoulder, and even though I confess to liking these scattered moments where I’ve got something on my older sister, I don’t want to wreck her yet for kicks. So I shrug. “Honestly, Mom, I don’t know him that well. But he seems nice.”