Game Day Box Set: A College Football Romance

by Lily Cahill

  Fearless.

  The ball is in my hands, rain dripping down the back of my neck.

  Fearless.

  I’m scrambling backward, giving myself some space.

  Fearless.

  I spot Mayhew breaking away from his defender. This time, I don’t think. I don’t hesitate.

  Fearless.

  The ball leaves my hands. And it feels right. I can tell it’s a good throw—the way the leather leaves my fingertips, the way my arm follows through. It all feels right. Like being with Lou; it’s just right.

  The ball flies through the sky. Spiraling.

  My stomach clenches, watching, waiting, praying Mayhew gets there.

  Mayhew doesn’t even have to break stride.

  The ball falls to him perfectly, landing in his hands at stomach level. He tucks the ball ever so slightly into his body for additional security and continues down the field. His footing slips on the slick ground, and his body rockets forward over his legs before he yanks himself back and balances again.

  The defenders are gaining on him.

  Mayhew looks back over his shoulder and smiles, now that he’s regained his balance. He sprints off again.

  All the way to the end zone.

  I stand there frozen. I’ve spent the last fifty-eight minutes of game time clawing and scratching for a touchdown. Every down has felt like a miniature battle, and yet this one came so easily. 50 yards of field separated us from the end zone only seconds ago.

  I blink my eyes. The rest of the team is headed off the field, making room for special teams to kick the extra point, the one that’ll officially win us this game. But I’m in a daze.

  I just threw the perfect spiral. I just tied the game. I did.

  I run off the field, and as I do, I look for Lou in the crowd. I owe her for this one. For inspiring me to have courage and believing in me when I obviously didn’t believe in myself.

  She’s smiling at me in the crowd. Everyone around her is high-fiving, shouting, clacking their coconut-shell hooves together, but Lou is staring right at me with a smile that feels like another touchdown.

  After the field goal clinches our victory, fans flood toward us, rushing the field. The referees blow their whistles, trying to keep order. But there is no order.

  I barrel through the crowd. People are ecstatic, tackling me with hugs and applause. Some random guys try to hoist me up on their shoulders, like they did with Coach Prescott, but I’m not having it. I push past them. I push past everyone.

  And then I see her. She’s standing in the tunnel calm as can be, leaning up against the wall like she owns the place. Of course she is.

  I race toward her.

  She starts to open her mouth, but I don’t have space in my mind for words right now. My instincts are primal, hungry. I need to taste her. I need to feel her soft, lush body against mine.

  My mouth lands on hers like I’m making an attack and she’s the enemy. And for a moment, I feel like I should pull back. But I don’t want to. And soon she’s matching my force, pressing herself against me, sliding her tongue against mine with a hunger that both satisfies me and makes me desperate for more.

  “I thought you said—” she pants.

  “Shut up,” I say.

  I press her against the wall, draw her hands over her head so she knows it’s my turn to be in charge. And fuck if that doesn’t make her melt underneath me. She moans, and it fires up a flame through my entire body.

  Fuck.

  Winning the game made me feel strong. But this? I’ve never felt like more of a man than when she’s in my arms.

  I tear off my gloves and palm her breast. Her thin blue jersey is wet from the rain and her nipple is hard from the cold. I drag my thumb over it in long circles.

  “Oh, fuck, West,” she moans. “Oh, fuck.”

  My dick is so hard it’s painful. I need to get out of this damned uniform. And I need to get us both out of sight before my will fails and I take her right here.

  “Come on,” I say, grabbing her hand and tugging her deeper into the catacombs below the arena stands. We rush through the locker room, and I have just enough presence of mind to grab a condom from my gym bag on our way through. Her chest is heaving when she sees it, her eyes cloudy.

  Finally, we find a storage room. It’s full of paper towels and plastic cups and stacks of chairs and old, rolled up banners that are almost as tall as me. As soon as the door is locked, she’s taking my jersey off, and I’m pulling her shirt over her shoulders.

  Damn, she’s gorgeous. Her creamy brown skin is smooth and glistening from the rain. And the sight of her nipples straining against her black lace bra is the stuff wet dreams are made of.

  I rip off my shoulder pads and my vest, never more frustrated that there are so many layers to this thing. Her jeans are next to go, then my pants and cup. Relief courses through me as my dick is set free, but it’s soon replaced by a pulsing need so deep I can hardly contain myself. The savage beast inside me refuses to be silenced this time.

  This won’t be a gentle fuck. My desire is too urgent. I need all of her and I need her now.

  I lift her and she wraps her legs around my waist. My hands are full of her gorgeous, ample ass and it’s only her panties keeping me from pushing myself deep inside her. She rubs against me and I can feel her wetness seeping through the thin fabric.

  “Jesus, Lou,” I pant.

  Our lips fuse, taking from each other in hungry, probing gasps. I unclasp her bra and pull it off. Her soft tits press against my chest and I have an intense wish for more than just two hands. The cruelest thing right now is having to choose which part of her to touch. I have no idea how I resisted this so long.

  She gyrates against me again and I nearly lose it.

  I set her down on a short stack of chairs, and mouth my way down her body, sucking at her plump nipples as I go. I tug the lace down from her hips. Then I’m spreading her thighs and delving my tongue into her sweet pussy.

  My tongue is selfish. I’ve been dreaming of tasting her for weeks and it’s even better than I imagined. She’s so exquisite that I have to stroke myself as I lick, just to make it bearable. I lick and I suck and my lips rumble against her as I moan.

  “Yes, West,” she cries, my name in her mouth lighting me on fire. “There. Right there.”

  She grinds against my face, taking what she needs, what she deserves. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. My mind clouds with desire and I lap at her faster, suck her harder.

  Her moans grow higher and louder. I stop pumping my cock long enough to reach up and cover her mouth just in time. Her thighs clamp around my face so hard I think I might suffocate in her pussy. It would be a damn fine way to go.

  I keep licking, keep sucking. Then she’s screaming—a throaty, high-pitched sound. And she’s so fucking loud—even with my hand over her mouth—that all I can do is pray there’s no one nearby to hear us. The wild satisfaction in her voice fills my chest with pride. I made her sound like that, and I want to do it again and again and again.

  Finally, her moans quiet and her breath starts to slow. I pull my hand away from her mouth.

  “Fuck, West,” she pants. “That was … I mean, fuck.”

  I kiss my way back up her body. Her skin is so sensitive she’s twitching under my lips, but she’s not asking me to stop, and I need to feel my lips against her.

  “Tell me what you want,” she begs as I reach her mouth.

  “You,” I say, giving into every desire I’ve been vetoing for so many weeks. “Just you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lou

  I CAN BARELY BREATHE. MY skin is still tingling and his kisses on my neck are driving me wild—right on the edge of being unbearable. My throat is tight with emotion. I don’t sleep around, but I’m no virgin. And I’ve never—never—felt anything like this before.

  I’m filled with an overwhelming desire to satisfy him. It’s not some tit-for-tat thing. There’s no score card
here. I want—no, I need—to make him feel as good as he just made me feel. My body demands it.

  “Tell me what you want,” I ask again.

  “Kiss me,” he says, claiming my mouth with his. I decide that I will kiss him. I’ll kiss him everywhere I can.

  My lips leave his mouth and trace a curve down his neck, his chest. He’s salty there from well-earned sweat and the smell of him—the real him, the proof of his muscles pumping hard on that field—is making me crazy. I lick down the center of his chest, letting my hands steady me, letting myself explore every inch of his rock-hard body.

  Then my mouth is there, on him, sucking and licking. His abs ripple under my fingers, his whole body going tight as he moans. And the sound of it lights sparks in my belly. I grip him with both hands and pump as I take him into my mouth, sliding up and down on his thick cock, savoring the taste of his skin.

  “Lou,” he pants. “Oh, God, Lou.”

  His hands clutch my hair tight, pulling me away. The strength in his hands only makes me hotter, hungrier for his pleasure. My core tightens, and I can feel myself getting wetter every second. I fight against him, fight to keep my mouth on his cock.

  “I’m going to—” he says, a panic in his voice. “I’m going to—”

  But I don’t care. I want him to. I need him to.

  Then he rips his hips away from me, takes a step back, then another. His chest is heaving, his dick thick and strong. He’s left me here, naked, breathless, and wanting.

  “Get it,” I say. “Give it to me.”

  He looks confused at first and I know I’m not making sense. My words aren’t coming out the way I want them to.

  “Let me put it on you,” I say.

  Then he understands. He snatches the condom off the floor and hands it to me, still wordless, his eyes dark with desire.

  “Come here,” I say.

  I slip it firmly over the head of his cock, stroking him as it curls down his shaft. As soon as it’s on he’s pulling me up to standing, then grabbing me and lifting me against him, his hands strong on my ass.

  I need him inside of me. It scares me how much I need him right now.

  I wrap my legs around him and slide onto his cock. His eyes darken even more as he enters me. “Fuck, Lou. Fuck.”

  Then I’m riding him, using his shoulders and arms as leverage, trying to shatter the wild need he’s built in me again. It’s the only thing I can do. My body is operating on pure instinct, moving out of pure desire. And so is his. Finally, so is his.

  Then he’s pressing me against the wall, stilling my hips so he can be the one driving into me over and over and over.

  “Yes,” I scream. “Fuck me hard, West. Please fuck me.”

  And he does. His cock moves in and out of me hard and fast. Pressure is building between my thighs, so strong it’s nearly unbearable. It’s his voice that drives me over the edge. The sound of him groaning and the feel of him pulsing inside of me, frantic and needy.

  He covers my mouth with his as I come. I’m tasting him and crying out against his lips. His body stiffens and I know he’s there too, right there with me. He’s pressing me so hard against the wall that I can barely breathe, his moans vibrating against my mouth. But I don’t care. I don’t need air, just him. And right now I have him. Just for this one moment we’re merged together in a frenzy of skin and sweat and passion.

  I want to save this split-second of warm bliss. I want to put it in a bottle and keep it with me forever.

  On Monday, it’s time to get back to the real world. I have to focus for finals, but I’m having a little bit of trouble. All I can think about is West—his crazy body, his soft brown eyes, the words he whispered to me in the dark.

  I haven’t seen him since our amazing night together Saturday—a night that was cut short by the always annoying demands of football. They found him the moment we ventured out of our little closet. And as the star quarterback for the Pac-12 champs, West was obligated to suffer through a ton of post-game interviews. I went straight back to my hotel room after I congratulated my dad, knowing from experience that West would be occupied for the rest of the night. Then my flight left near dawn and West didn’t get back until late last night. I’m dying to see him again.

  But I have to shove West out of my mind, if only for the next two hours. This test is my last chance to pull my grade up after my disastrous showing during the pitch contest. I spent all day yesterday studying in the library with Nara. It was either that or plant myself in front of the TV and watch all of West’s interviews just to hear his voice. I’d like to think I still have a little bit of self-respect. And the studying helped a lot. I feel ready for my final. At least as ready as I can be.

  I’m just about to go into the classroom when I see him. His tall, muscular frame towers over everyone else in the hall. He’s a hard guy to miss. The moment he sees me, his face lights up and I’m pretty sure I’m going to melt into a puddle right there.

  “Hey, sexy,” he says.

  Then he drags me into a side hallway and pins me against the wall, grabbing my ass like it’s his lifeline. His hands might be mine.

  I hear myself moaning before I remember where I am.

  “What—what are you doing here?” I ask, trying to get a hold of myself. West is a psychology major, and this is the business building. There’s no way he has any classes here.

  “I had to wish my best girl luck before finals,” he says.

  “I hope she’s not mad you found me instead,” I say, hanging my arms around his neck.

  “I have a feeling she’ll be cool with it,” he says. Then he kisses me, soft and slow. “Good luck today.”

  “Thank you,” I say, my eyes going as fluttery as a baby doll’s. God, I really can’t stop myself from going full-on girlie around this guy. “I’m gonna need it.”

  “No, you won’t. My girl can do anything she puts her mind to.”

  “What makes you think I’m your girl?” I ask, planting my lips on his. “I’ve made you no such promises. And I’m really not the ‘my girl’ type.”

  “What makes you think you have a choice?” he growls into my ear. And fuck if I don’t want to unzip his jeans and blow him right there.

  He kisses me long and deep, then pulls his lips away. He’s got me so hot that my chest swells against his in big, heaving breaths.

  “That’s what I thought,” he says with a cocky grin. “You free tonight?”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  He smirks. “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

  Then he saunters off, throwing me another grin over his shoulder as a goodbye.

  And just like that, I’m somebody’s girl. Not just somebody’s.

  His.

  Chapter Sixteen

  West

  “SO WHERE ARE YOU TAKING me?” she says, her deep brown eyes shining at me from the passenger side of my old Ford pickup truck. I’m in the parking lot of the Kappa house picking her up for our first official date. It snowed this afternoon, and now everything is draped in a blanket of white.

  “It’s a surprise.” I pull out into the street, the setting sun haloing her hair as I turn. If it’s possible, it makes her even more gorgeous.

  She looks over her shoulder, searching, as my truck climbs into the foothills. Then she does it again.

  “What are you looking for?” I ask.

  “A tail,” she says. Or at least I think that’s what she said.

  “Huh?”

  “My dad. He has this uncanny way of showing up for all my dates. I think there might be a mole in the Kappa house.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a stubborn son of a bitch, if you haven’t already noticed.”

  We haven’t talked about this yet, and we need to figure it out. Telling him is a risk I’m willing to take. She’s worth whatever the consequences are.

  “Do you want him to know, Lou?” I ask. “About us?”

  She sighs. “I just … mayb
e not yet. This is mine right now. Ours. If he knows, he’s going to be up in our business in a big way. I’d like to have you to myself for a little while.”

  “I don’t know how long I can look him in the face everyday and lie to him,” I say.

  “I don’t want to lie to him, either. I just want to wait a little while. We aren’t exactly besties at the moment anyway.”

  “What’s with that?” I ask, remembering the way their fight echoed down the locker room halls. “Have you guys always been at each other?”

  “No. We used to be really close, actually,” she says. “After my mom died, it was just us against the world.” Her face is so put together you almost can’t hear the tinge of sadness in her voice.

  “So what changed?”

  “Lots of things,” she says. “I grew up. And then he moved here. And he just doesn’t see it. He can’t see me as an adult.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “He’s been super controlling from the moment he stepped on campus. He doesn’t like my sorority. He doesn’t like me drinking. And he definitely doesn’t like anyone I’ve dated. Oh, and that thing with him telling you guys I was off limits? That really pissed me off.”

  I stay quiet, hoping she’ll keep talking. I want her to feel like she can.

  “Honestly? I might have—sort of—come on to you at that party hoping to piss him off. But it’s really, truly not like that anymore,” she says.

  My hackles rise. “Whoa, that’s fucked up, Lou.” My mind races. “You were going to fuck a guy just to get under his skin?” What if had been Sheehan or Dane she’d run into? A lot of players would have said yes, no question. Would she be with one of them right now instead of me?

  “I know. I know. I’m really sorry. But you looked so damn hot when I saw you in the locker room, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. And then when you showed up at the party, it was like, two birds, one stone. You know?”

  A part of me settles down. A little bit. “What kind of a position does that put me in? I don’t want to piss your dad off. I like the guy. And I like you. And I don’t want to be presented to him like some prize fuck you.”