Sacked

by Tabatha Vargo

  With that, she used both hands to push me away as she stood. She looked up at me with a heated stare, and I didn’t miss the way she flexed her tiny fists at her sides as if she was seconds away from punching me.

  I wanted to reach out and trace the angry lines around her lips and eyes. She was really mad, and while I should have been more worried about making whatever I’d done better, all I could think about was her climbing on top of me, scratching me with her rounded nails, and angry fucking me.

  “So are you going to tell me what I did?” I asked.

  She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “I can’t.”

  “So let me get this straight, you’re pissed off at me. So pissed that you want to hit me right now, but you can’t tell me why?”

  She nodded, her angry eyes moving across my face. “Yes to all of the above.”

  I laughed.

  I couldn’t help myself.

  She was being ridiculous.

  I’d called her over to hang out, eat some pizza, maybe fool around some, but she came over here knowing she was pissed at me.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit. If you’re going to act all bitchy toward me, I should at least know why.”

  Her eyes widened. “Did you just call me a bitch?”

  Crossing my arms, I prepared for the moment she finally snapped on me. “I call it like I see it, baby.”

  And then she flipped her bitch switch. Her tiny hands dug into my chest, and honestly, it tickled.

  “You know what?” she yelled, pushing at me until I moved. “I call it like I see it, too.” She continued to push at me, and I let her until my back was against the wall. I wasn’t angry about it. It was hot. “And you know what I see, Sawyer?”

  I tried not to smile down at her.

  I really did.

  I even sucked in my cheeks in an attempt to keep the smile from forming, but it didn’t work. I wanted to kiss her. Fuck, I wanted to taste every inch of her. My cock twitched at the thought of laying her on the couch and sinking every inch into her warmth.

  She hadn’t said anything, and I hadn’t asked, but she was a virgin. Only a virgin would make a man wait this long for just a kiss. I wasn’t usually one to snatch a girl’s virginity, but I’d already put in too much time with Gretchen. Virgin or not, I wanted to fuck her senseless and unload all of my built up stress inside of her.

  “What do you see?” I asked.

  “I see a fucking asshole. That’s what I see!”

  And then she pushed me once more, but instead of letting her pull away, I grabbed her hands and held them to my chest. Her nails bit into my skin through my shirt, making me go hard inside my sweats.

  She struggled against my hold, and I held strong as I stared down at her, my eyes moving over her reddened cheeks and soft pouty lips.

  “Let me go,” she growled.

  I swallowed hard.

  Want wrapped deep around my balls, making them throb until I felt like I was going to explode.

  I had to have her.

  “Do you have any idea how sexy you are with you’re mad?”

  She stopped struggling, her eyes flickering up to mine like a doe caught in the headlights. I’d shocked her with my words. She searched my face as if looking for an answer to some unasked question, and then her body softened and her nails loosened against my shirt.

  If I knew women, and I did, I’d say she wanted to kiss me. I could see it in the way she looked at me—in the way her pulse banged against the side of her neck—in the way she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled on it.

  I was all about giving women what they wanted, so I leaned down, ready to finally get a taste of her, but before I could get close enough, the front door flew open and Derrick and the boys came bursting in.

  “Cover you cock, Sawyer! We’re home and we don’t want to see you handling your business, bro!” Derrick’s voice echoed from the entranceway.

  Pressing the back of my head into the wall behind me, I sighed in aggravation.

  So fucking close.

  “This is stupid. I don’t have time for this,” Gretchen said, pulling away completely.

  My eyes followed her as she flew from the room, passing the guys and slamming the front door behind her.

  I didn’t follow her for two reasons.

  One: because I was completely fucking confused about what had just happened.

  And two: because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do more if I caught her—fuck her or fight with her.

  From that point on, I quit messing with Gretchen. She obviously had a lot going on, and I didn’t have time to fuck with some broken mess of a girl. I had football to think about. Fuck the rest.

  A few days passed, and while I fucking hated Literature and Film class, it made it possible for me to see Gretchen at least twice. I’d never admit it, but I kind of missed her. I hadn’t seen much of her because of my away game and then her attitude problem, and I missed hanging out.

  She was fun and full of surprises, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her again. If she wanted to be friends or whatever the hell we were, she would have to be the one to fix it. I hadn’t done anything to her, as far as I could remember, and I really felt like she owed me an apology.

  It stayed that way for a few more days until one day in Lit and Film we were split into groups. As luck would have it, we were paired together, which meant neither of us had a choice. We had to talk to each other even if it was just about the study guide we were given.

  She acted as if nothing happened. Instead, she rambled on about the comparisons of To Kill a Mockingbird and its film adaptation. I’d seen the movie and it was damn good, but the way she went on and on about the literary aspects of it made the shit sound boring as hell.

  I sat and pretended to listen, but my eyes kept going to her chest. The shirt she was wearing was low-cut, showing the soft swell of her breasts that was escaping the top of her bra. Every time she caught my eyes on her, the tanned skin would turn pink as she blushed. It was the sexiest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

  “Could you please not do that?”

  I lifted my eyes to her face, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. “What?”

  “You know what you’re doing. It’s really distracting, Sawyer, and we need to focus.”

  “I’m sorry I’m distracting, but I think you’re the first girl to complain about it.”

  Looking at the ceiling in aggravation, she sighed. “Stop with this asshole act, okay.”

  “It’s not an act. Remember? You said so yourself. I’m an asshole.”

  Her eyes softened, and she looked down at her desktop in embarrassment. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was having a bad day and taking it out on everyone. I shouldn’t have come over to your place knowing what a shitty mood I was in. Can we just forget about it and move on?”

  Leaning back in my seat, I let my eyes roam across her face to gauge how serious she was. She seemed sincere, and honestly, I wanted to forget about it and move on, too.

  I nodded, and she smiled.

  Her green eyes lit up with happiness, and I felt satisfied knowing that I’d put that happy look on her face.

  “Good,” she said.

  “Good,” I copied.

  We spent the rest of the class working together in our tiny study group. We were prepping for an exam, which meant we spent the time breaking down the lessons from the weeks before. Thankfully, Gretchen was an excellent note-taker and really knew what the hell she was talking about. I brought absolutely nothing to the table, but once she reprimanded me for staring at her tits, I started to listen to what she was saying.

  When it was almost time for the end of class, I actually knew what the hell the class was about. She’d broken things down so well, I thought for a second I might really pass the exam. She wowed me with her smarts. She was a double threat, beauty and brains.

  Stretching in my desk, I yawned. “Thanks for the lesson in literature, Brainy Barbie.”
r />   I laughed when she smacked me in the chest making my skin sting.

  “Shit, that hurt,” I said, rubbing at the smarting spot.

  “Good. You deserved that. I’m no Barbie. First of all, I’m cuter.” She stood from her desk and pushed playfully at my shoulder.

  Her fingers were small. Everything about her was small, especially when she was beside me. My six-foot-four made her five-foot-four look even smaller.

  “Yes, you are,” I freely admitted. “Barbie ain’t got shit on you, baby.”

  I was a flirt and there was no holding back when it came to Gretchen. It’s not as if I had anything to lose at this point. I wasn’t getting any closer to getting her naked. It wasn’t as if I was making any progress on going dick diving in her deep pool.

  Fuck it.

  “So do you want to get together and study for the exam this weekend?” she asked as we left the room.

  We didn’t have a game the following weekend, which meant for the first time since the season started, I’d have a completely free weekend. I hated bye weeks since I loved the game so much, but it was still nice to take some time to myself and chill.

  “Yeah, but not Friday night. There’s a party we’re going to.” I held the door open for her, and she passed by me.

  We walked together since our classrooms were close, and I used the time to carry her books and play the gentleman. I hadn’t asked her to go to the party with me since we weren’t really talking to each other before, but I could hope that my cocky, pushy nature would get me what I wanted.

  “Is that your way of asking me to go to the party with you?” She cocked a brow at me. “Because if so, you should know I don't party. I'm not that kind of girl. Maybe you should ask one of your concubines.”

  “Concubines? Did you seriously just say the word concubines?” I laughed.

  “Don’t laugh at me.” She shoved playfully at my shoulder. “You know the ones I’m talking about; the girls who throw themselves at you and die every time you look in their direction.” She shook her head in disgust. “Take one of them.”

  “Nah. No concubines for me. My ego is big enough,” I joked. “I need someone to call me on my shit. You’re going with me.”

  “Seriously, is this your way of asking me? Because it sounds to me like you’re demanding.”

  “Honestly, I assumed I wouldn’t need to ask.” I smiled, knowing how cocky I sounded.

  Girls loved that shit.

  “God, your ego really is massive. I’m not sure your head can get any bigger.”

  “Oh, I assure you it can. Want to watch it grow?” I asked, pretending to pull my jeans from my waist so she could see.

  She pushed at my chest and laughed. “You’re such a pervert.”

  “Yep. Don’t worry. You’ll learn to love it.”

  “Uh-huh, I bet.” She chuckled.

  “Most girls do.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Sawyer. I’m not most girls.”

  I held out her bag when we reached her classroom, and she took it. Pulling the strap over her arm, the weight of the bag pulled on her top uncovering her tanned cleavage. I swallowed hard, the desire to kiss the soft skin above her low-cut top thick in my throat.

  “You’re definitely not most girls,” I agreed.

  And she wasn’t.

  I think that was what kept drawing me in.

  She looked up at me through dark lashes and nibbled her bottom lip.

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment. Thank you,” she said.

  “Don’t thank me. It’s the truth.”

  I was being honest.

  It wasn’t my usual game, and I hated entering a game without knowing the play.

  Realizing the moment was getting way too serious for my taste, I rubbed the back of my neck hard and quickly changed the subject.

  “So I know football isn’t your thing, but am I going to see you in the stands next game?”

  Football.

  My go-to subject.

  “What makes you think I’m not into football? I love football. My dad and I used to watch all the games. It was kind of our thing.”

  She flipped her long hair, leaving a strand stuck to her cheek. Her skin was flushed from our walk to her class—the walk and the heat. Fall in South Carolina didn’t necessarily mean cool weather. It was still hot as hell out some days.

  “I don’t know. I thought you just came to the games for me. I didn’t peg you for a big football fan,” I said, brushing the stray piece of hair from her cheek.

  “You’re such a guy. The night we went for pizza I was totally wearing my Camden gear. Blue and silver everything.” She laughed. “Just like at every game I’ve been to. Geez, guys never notice anything.”

  I remembered exactly what she was wearing that first night, which wasn’t like me. I remembered how sexy her long legs looked in her blue sundress, and the painted tiger paw on her cheek that I wanted to touch. She really had no idea the effect she had on me. It was embarrassing.

  “I noticed.” My voice cracked. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  She blushed and looked away. “Well, see? Then you know I’m a hardcore football girl. I can even trash talk and call plays better than the refs lately.”

  I laughed.

  Picturing her in a sexy, tight referee costume made my cock grow hard in my jeans.

  “Really now?” I asked. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. “Then I guess once you prove you can drink me under the table, I can label you the perfect woman.”

  “I’m far from perfect. Trust me. However, I’ll take that challenge this weekend at the party I guess I’m going to.” She moved closer, her green eyes capturing mine and holding me. “But don’t let my tiny frame fool you; I’ve been known to drink grown Navy boys under the table.”

  She smelled amazing. Like fresh sunflowers and my summers beside the lake back home. Like honeysuckle and fresh fruit.

  Sweet.

  Gretchen was sweet.

  My heart sank into my stomach, making me feel sick. I never thought it was possible, but I was seriously considering the idea that maybe Gretchen Cole was the perfect woman.

  “Challenge accepted. I’ll be by to get you around eight.” I turned to walk away feeling like I’d just won a game.

  “You’re not coming to my place. You could be crazy,” she joked. “I barely know you, Sawyer Reed.”

  I turned, walking backward toward my class with a smile. “Then I guess it’s time to change that, Gretchen Cole.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll just meet you there.”

  And then she disappeared into the classroom.

  I smiled to myself. I knew before the weekend was over, Gretchen would be mine. It had to happen already. I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d last.

  The guys were louder than usual. The ruckus should have had the cops at the door knocking, but since just about every frat was over partying with us, no one bothered. We were in full celebration mode, taking advantage of our game-free weekend. The kegs were on tap, and everyone was having fun.

  The music was pumping, and the girls were hotter than the humid fall air outside, but I had eyes for only one girl in the room.

  Gretchen Cole.

  Her skin glistened under the dim lighting. She’d spent most of the night dancing and her sweat was making her white dress stick to her skin, showing off every curve of her body.

  Every.

  Fucking.

  Curve.

  Damn. That’s all. Just damn.

  I sat on the side of the room, drinking with the boys and watching her every move. She was dancing with Landon, one of our defensive ends, and he held her tiny frame close as they moved to the beat of the music. She was laughing, her bright eyes and smile lighting up the space around her. All attention was on her, but I didn’t mind.

  It didn’t matter who was looking at her because she would be mine soon enough. I’d never seen a girl as more than a piece of ass. It was a
new thing for me, but after only a few weeks and without even a taste of her, I knew I wanted Gretchen.

  She was sexy. She was smart. She loved football. She could hold her liquor. And to top it all off, she made me laugh. I never thought something like that would matter, but it did.

  My thoughts had me moving across the makeshift dance floor and toward her before I even realized what I was doing. And when Landon spun her, she landed in my arms laughing.

  “Sawyer!” she said in surprise, her eyes going wide.

  “Are you having fun, beautiful?”

  “Tons,” she slurred. “Now, dance with me.” She pulled me closer, her perky tits pressing into my chest, and then she moved her body to the music.

  She felt better than amazing against me, her sweet body touching me in the places that had begged for her touch for weeks. Her grinding against me was fucking turning me on, and I was quickly losing the ability to hide my raging hard-on. Not that I cared if she knew I was hard for her. I didn’t. She needed to know what she was doing to me.

  She was obviously tipsy, as she pushed into me and moved her hips from side to side. Running her fingers through her long blond hair, she bit her lip and rode my knee when I slipped my leg between her thighs. She was seducing me without even trying, and I was seconds away from pulling her into the next room and showing her what she was doing to my body.

  I pulled her back to my front, closing my eyes to the feeling of her ass all over my cock. Leaning forward, I placed my lips on the spot behind her ear and felt her pulse against my lips.

  “I want you so fucking bad, Gretchen,” I whispered in her ear, sure she hadn’t heard my words over the music.

  She turned in my arms, her eyes consuming mine, as the electricity between us became a tangible source of power. Her tongue broke through her pouty lips, swiping the corner of her mouth, and I felt it in my balls.

  Shit was getting hot, but then the music shifted and a slow song began to play. She pulled away, her big green eyes unblinking, and as if flipping a switch, her mood shifted.

  “Boo. A slow song,” she said.

  She backed away, ready to leave the floor, but I wrapped my arm around her small waist and pulled her back against me. I wasn’t letting her go that easily. She latched onto my shoulders, her eyes moving over my face, as I moved us to the music.