King of the Court

by Melanie Munton

  “Oh, hell.” She was already breathing hard. “Don’t stop, please.”

  Did she really think I could at this point? She was clenching around my tongue, dripping into my mouth, and it was all because of me. I did this to her. I made her wild and wanton and so desperate for a release she was willing to do almost anything. That filled me with an enormous amount of satisfaction.

  I kept my tongue deep inside her and didn’t come up for air until her climax slammed through her and her whole body went into violent trembles. It wasn’t until her legs stopped shaking around my head that I finally released her from my mouth and stood up. She was sexy and comical at the same time—a look only Reese could pull off successfully—with her arms laying limp beside her, her legs dangling off the edge of the table, and her saucer-sized eyeballs staring up at the ceiling.

  “Did I break you?”

  She forced her head up. “You really do have a gift.”

  I bit back my laughter and slapped her leg. “I’m glad you approve. Time to get up, though, lazy ass. I’m taking you somewhere.”

  She pushed herself up with considerable effort. “Are you kidding? You’re going to do that to me and then make me get dressed to go out? I thought we were staying in tonight.”

  I kissed her to shut her up. “We’re not going ‘out’ out. And what you have on now is fine. You won’t be wearing it long once we get there, anyway.”

  She narrowed her eyes, unsure.

  I rolled my eyes and pulled her off the table. “I promise you’ll like it. Just trust me, okay?”

  The corner of her mouth quirked. “Okay.”

  Did that mean she trusted me? Like, implicitly?

  Because I had to admit, that felt pretty damn good.

  34

  Cam

  “Seriously, how can your favorite breakfast food be grits, of all things?” Reese asked between bouts of laughter.

  “You’ve never tried my mom’s grits,” I countered. “They’ll change your entire opinion on the food, I swear.”

  “How different can they be? Isn’t is mostly cornmeal?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what she does, but she’s able to actually make them flavorful. Best grits you’ve ever had.”

  She huffed, clearly not convinced, which I thought was so adorable I had to pull her in tighter to me.

  When we walked up to the hot springs at Blue Lake, I assumed I’d be so worked up that I’d jump on her as soon as we got into the warm water. Especially since she’d stripped down to her bra and underwear, and I had nothing to hold back my dick except for my thin briefs. But after we started talking about all kinds of random stuff, I found myself more than happy with just holding her, her back to my front, with my arms wrapped around her, listening to the sounds of the forest around us.

  It was pitch black out but I had a small lantern I’d kept from mine and my dad’s old camping days. The water felt like we were sitting in a hot tub, working wonders on my exhausted muscles. I’d never admit to anyone how tired I’d get after games and practices, particularly long road trips, but I felt it wearing on me.

  Good thing I didn’t plan on playing anymore after this year.

  “Okay, what era would you live in if you had a time machine?” she asked.

  I chuckled at yet another random question from her. “Would it have to be in the U.S.?”

  “No, not necessarily. We don’t have that long of a history, anyway.”

  “The ‘Ol West in the 1800s,” I answered. “I’d own some land, somewhere like Colorado probably.”

  She giggled. “You’re such a guy. Don’t most guys say that?”

  “What? Come on, everyone carried a gun back then, and actual justice was served. There were no such things as political correctness or social media. Times were simpler.”

  “And no one lived very long, disease was rampant, and the Civil War broke out,” she teased, nudging me. “You just want to be a cowboy. I remember you telling me once that you and your dad used to be real big into western movies.”

  It touched something inside me that she remembered me saying that. I smiled at the memories of me and my dad bonding over John Wayne movies. Maybe she was right. Maybe I did need to share more about my childhood with him. Maybe it really could help the healing process.

  “I’ve never denied wanting to be a cowboy. But don’t ever tell Boyd that.” She felt so good against my bare chest. “What about you? When and where would you choose to live?”

  She hummed in thought. “At first, I was going to say Rome during the height of the Roman Empire. The culture has always fascinated me. But women didn’t have rights back then, and I don’t think I could live a life of servitude, as a wife who had nothing more in this life to do than wait on her husband hand and foot. Plus, having to do everything he said.”

  I belted out a loud laugh at that image. “Reese Bradley doing as she’s told without arguing? No, I can’t picture that either.”

  She elbowed me in the ribs, which only made me laugh harder. “That’s enough of that. I’m just saying I wouldn’t want to live my life dictating to someone else. Which is why I would choose New York City in the 1920s.”

  “The Roaring 20s, huh?” Somehow, her choice didn’t surprise me.

  She nodded. “After women got the vote, of course, but during Prohibition. You know, when there were underground speakeasies on every street corner. Everyone doing something they knew they weren’t supposed to. I think it would have been exciting.”

  “Plus, you’ve got Big Band.”

  She craned her head to look back at me. “You like Big Band music?”

  I acted as if I were offended. “My pre-game playlist is not the only kind of music I listen to, you know.”

  Her eyes softened. “You just keep on surprising me. Can I ask you one more question?”

  I kissed her forehead. “I never said there was a cap on questions.”

  Though there might have to be if she kept wiggling her ass on me like that.

  “What do you want to do after you graduate?” She turned around to fully face me and straddled my lap. “I mean, with your knee I don’t think the NBA is an option.”

  I could tell she was selecting her words carefully, uncertain of my reaction. Or of hurting me, I guess.

  “I know that,” I said. “The NBA never really appealed to me, anyway. I’m going to stay in sports and use my sports management degree, but I don’t know for sure in what capacity. I’ve thought about going into business operations with some organization and using my business minor. But I’ve also considered coaching. I still have to think about it, I guess.”

  She lightly ran her fingers through the hair at the back of my neck. “I could see you being a great coach.”

  “Really?” No one had ever said that to me before.

  She scooted in closer as a cold breeze whipped around us. I rubbed my hand up her back when I felt a shiver snake up her spine.

  “Sure,” she said. “You obviously know the sport better than most. You’re a smart player, and that usually transfers well to coaching. You have the respect of your peers and you get along with everyone.” The name Trey must have flashed in her mind at the same time it did mine. “Mostly everyone. And you actually care about the game and the players because you play with heart. You keep the guys motivated, no matter what. Everyone sees that.”

  Her words affected me on a deep level, mainly because she seemed to have a much higher opinion of me than she used to and that meant a lot.

  “I think you’ve got some rose-colored lenses on, sweetheart. My kisses will do that to you.”

  She slapped me playfully on the shoulder. “I’m serious, Cam. I think you should look into it if that’s what you want. Maybe you could talk to my dad about it.”

  I shot her a look of horror. “Gee, that sounds like a great idea. I’ll fit that in right after I say, ‘Oh, yeah. By the way, Coach, I’m screwing your daughter every chance I get and we’ve been hiding it from you. Got a job for me nex
t year’?”

  Her slap was a little harder this time. “Smart ass. I didn’t mean you have to tell him about us. Unless you really want to.” Yeah, she still didn’t know why I had an aversion to that. “I just thought he’d be a good person to talk to and ask questions. He knows the industry as well as anyone.”

  It actually wasn’t a bad idea. “I’ll think about it.” I sealed my mouth over hers to end the conversation and slid my hands around her hips. “Now, I think we’ve got some business to work out here.”

  She circled her ass over my lap, making me go cross-eyed. “I thought you said he’s never in town for business. Only pleasure.”

  “Sweetheart, when he’s this fucking hard, it’s time to take care of business.”

  Her giggles were cut off when I shoved her panties to the side and pushed a finger up inside her, opening her up for my much bigger member. I didn’t spend much time getting her ready because she was obviously wet and I could hardly breathe, I was so close to bursting. I lifted her up and brought my tip to her slit, easing her slowly down my length. We both held our breath until I bottomed out and her ass was once again on my lap.

  I kept my hands on her waist because I couldn’t not touch her, but I wouldn’t move them. “You’re in charge tonight, baby. I want to see you move over me like this. I want to watch.”

  The lust in the air grew heady as her expression changed from one of a wicked participant to one of a sexy, determined dominant.

  Oh, hell yes.

  She gripped my shoulders as she moved over me, easing up and down at a steady pace, clearly getting her body used to me again. But as her resistance lessened, the force of her hips driving down to meet mine increased. Soon, she was bobbing in the water, choking the life out of my dick with her incredibly tight pussy. Between that and the sight of her tits bouncing right in my face, I was on the fast train to releasing far too soon.

  But I told her this was her show.

  If she wasn’t with me when I came I would just make it up to her afterward.

  “You like being in control, don’t you?” I whispered against her lips.

  “Sometimes.” She traced her mouth around my shoulder, nipping and licking as she moved up to my neck. “Other times I like being controlled by you.”

  Oh, tell me more, baby.

  “Yeah? What do I do that you like?”

  She moved her hips around in a figure eight, then slowly rolled her body into me. It was like the sexiest underwater lap dance of all time, but with the added element of sex. I swelled even more inside her.

  “I like when you throw me onto the bed like I’m yours to do whatever you want with,” she breathed right against my ear. “I like when you pin my arms down as you fuck me hard against the wall.” Her tongue trailed around the shell of my ear. “I like when you say nasty, filthy things to me right before you eat my pussy.” My hips involuntarily surged up into her at that last word. “And I love when you fuck me so hard and make sure I’m sore so that I’ll feel you every time I move the next day.”

  God, she was making it so difficult to not give her all of that right now.

  “You like when I mark you, baby? You like being claimed by me?”

  “Yes. So much, yes.”

  Damn, I fucking craved this girl.

  I couldn’t put into words what that did to me. If I had any doubt that she was officially mine now, she just eradicated every last worry and burned them all to ashes. She had no idea of the possessive instincts those words brought out in me. She was mine to protect. Mine to hold, to kiss, to have whenever and however I wanted. No one else’s. Just mine.

  “You’ve put your mark on me, too, sweetheart.” I lightly grabbed her around her throat, making her look at me. “No one’s ever made me this crazy. You’ve claimed every goddamn part of me. Christ, you have no idea what you do to me.”

  With passion-glazed eyes, she brought our mouths together in a soft, yet brutal kiss. Soft in the way her lips molded against mine, yet brutal with the amount of emotions surging behind that one action. As we both became frantic in our race toward the finish line, she didn’t remove her mouth. Even as I crashed through the waves of the most powerful orgasm I’d ever experienced and I felt her let go around me, our mouths stayed connected, our tongues stroking over one another.

  It was as if we were consummating a promise between us. Stamping a commitment over our relationship without acknowledging it.

  I knew without a doubt what that promise meant to me.

  I just hoped to God it meant the same thing to her.

  35

  Reese

  “So, I’m thinking of quitting the headshop,” Gemma said during our roommate brunch date. “There’s a job opening at a daycare center just down the street from the apartment. I could walk to work every day.”

  Sydney and I shot each other the same look before we both focused them on Gemma. “What?” she said.

  “You’re terrible with kids,” Syd said flatly.

  “And this would provide my learning opportunity,” Gemma replied, acting like that made so much sense in her own head. And it probably did. “You never know when I might have an acting job where I have to work with kids. Plus, my psychic told me last week that I needed to discover my inner child.”

  “You don’t have a psychic,” I said, taking a sip of my mimosa.

  Gemma ripped apart the roll in her hands into tiny pieces. “Well, I just met her at a party, but it’s not like her gift only works in her shop. She was kind enough to give me a reading on the spot.”

  Syd rolled her eyes at me while Gemma put her food order in with the server. We were at our favorite café in downtown Calhoun that had the best French toast casserole when you had time to sit down and the best apple cinnamon croissants when you were on the go. It was a much needed break after my insane two weeks with the team.

  It was officially March Mania.

  The NACA National Championship Tournament had officially begun. Every TV in every bar and restaurant had been playing non-stop games from the first two rounds for the past two weeks. Every sports network had constant broadcasts about all the teams still playing. And you couldn’t walk into a drugstore without someone talking about how well they were doing on their bracket challenge.

  The entire country was going gaga over this event, and I’d had a front row seat for the show. NCU had won their first round game against a sixteen seed team in Houston by twenty-five points. Not too surprising. They’d won their second round game against a ten seed team in Denver by ten points. A little closer, but everything had been smooth sailing so far.

  Except for the fact that jet lag had been kicking my ass something fierce.

  I loved this job, but I also loved my sleep.

  Between the planes and buses and early mornings and late nights, down time had been hard to come by. I hadn’t had much alone time with Cam since the tournament started, and that more than anything was wearing me down. He’d been busy with game film and team meetings and TV interviews and actually playing. The only time we’d seen each other lately was on the court.

  “How’s work, Syd?” I asked, trying to distract myself from my melancholy thoughts.

  I made sure to avoid asking her about Caleb the Cryer or the engagement situation with him and her parents. Syd had made it clear in no uncertain terms that the topic was not up for discussion, ever. She’d shut Gemma and I down numerous times when we’d tried to bring it up, so we let it go. For now. As long as we never saw a humongous diamond on her finger, we still had time to talk her out of making the biggest mistake of her life.

  I had a different strategy planned for today, anyway.

  “Everything’s great,” she said excitedly.

  I had to give her props for loving her job as much as she did. Even if it was accounting, which, in my opinion, would be the most mind-numbingly boring job on the planet. But to each her own.

  “Oh, I didn’t tell you guys!” she exclaimed. “I’m getting a bonus for that
big account I landed a few months ago that I was telling you about.”

  I gave a little “whoop!” while Gemma chose to pound on the table in excitement, drawing the attention of our fellow patrons. “That’s awesome, Syd,” she cheered. “Congrats!”

  Syd almost looked embarrassed by the praise. “Thanks.”

  “Looks like the next round of mimosas is on me,” I announced.

  “I think Miss Moneybags should cover the bill,” Gemma said with a grin. “She can afford it, after all.”

  “That’s not how celebrations work, Mrs. Doubtfire,” I chided, making Syd choke on her bite of salad. “You’re both still coming to the party tonight, right?”

  Vaughn was having another one of his “epic ragers” and demanded that I come. NCU was hosting the Best of 16 games, so we’d be home for at least the next few days, which Vaughn was apparently taking advantage of. And since I didn’t know how things were going to go down between Cam and I with everyone around, I was forcing my girls to come with me.

  “Definitely,” said Gemma.

  At the same time Syd said with a sigh, “If I must.”

  “You know, Syd, Boyd asked me if you were going to come.”

  Her head jerked up, her blue eyes sharpening on me. “When? What did he say?”

  “Oh, it was the other day after practice,” I answered nonchalantly. “He seemed interested, but don’t worry. I reminded him that even if you were able to make it, you’d probably bring your boyfriend.”

  Her eager expression faded into one of poorly-disguised dismay. Looked like my theory was definitely holding water. Gemma pursed her lips, holding back a smile as she winked at me over her champagne flute.

  “Right, that’s good,” Syd said, almost pouting. “Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  My work here was done for now.

  “Well, are you going to finally spill about your sexathon with His Royal Highness?” Gemma asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve barely seen you these last few weeks, and if we haven’t seen you, we’ve heard you. And him. It breaks the bonds of sisterhood if you don’t share details.”