Sweet Insanity (Sweet Series Book 1)

by Desiree Adele

  Palming each of her ass cheeks, I squeeze gently before running my hands up to her hips and shifting her back with a sharp tug, pressing my cock between the two of us.

  I reach into the nightstand for a condom and make quick work of rolling it on before lining my cock up with her pussy. I thrust into her so deep, our groans reverberate off the walls and I have to clench my ass cheeks to keep from coming.

  But when she circles her hips against mine, I lose all control, digging my fingers into her hips and slamming my cock into her on a throaty growl. That sexy-as-fuck whimper falls from her lips as my pace quickens.

  While I pound into her, the headboard slams against the wall with the same rhythm. I smirk. A little friendly competition never hurt anyone.

  Needing to feel closer to her, I haul her upward and pull her back against me before latching my lips onto that sensitive spot behind her ear and covering her pussy with my hand to tease her clit while I pump into her. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

  She rewards me with my name falling from her full lips like a prayer. Her skin glistens in a light sheen of sweat, and just as I feel as though I’m about to come, her mouth falls open and her hand clasps my neck while the inner walls of her pussy clamp down on my cock, setting off my own orgasm with a low groan.

  We rock against each other, my lips pressed to her shoulder and tasting her sweat-slick skin, before we fall back on the bed. With my dick still inside her, we spoon together.

  My eyes close and I’m about to drift off when the sound of someone beating their fist against my door has my head snapping up from the pillow.

  “Not fucking cool, man,” Keith barks from the other side. “I liked it better when you two hated each other.”

  The last part of his sentence trails off as he walks away, leaving Dahlia and me cackling like a couple of crazy people.

  “Zack?” she asks through a giggle and I offer a hum in response. She glances at me over her shoulder. “What’s going to happen to us when we graduate?”

  Well, that was an unexpected question. I brace myself on my elbow as she turns to face me, making my already semi-hard dick slide out of her.

  “I take it you’re referring to your earlier point of us being different?” I ask.

  She tilts her head in a small nod, a dark cloud of worry passing over her features.

  Smiling gently, I weave my hand in her hair and smooth it away from her face, tucking the silky strands behind her ear. “Remember what I told you about destiny and fate? That we choose our own path? Life is full of choices that people don’t recognize. Every day is a choice, even in the most mundane of tasks. It’s still your choice. If you don’t want to run from your past anymore, then stop running from it. If you’re sick of following the same pattern in your life, then break it and start a new one. Those are all your choices, baby. Do what you will, but don’t resign us to a future that hasn’t happened yet.”

  Her full lips tilt up, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, so I continue to try to ease the fear marring her gorgeous face. “When you’re always worrying about the future, you miss the beauty of the now. And right now, we’re together.”

  She pinches her lips, and faint lines crease her forehead. “Are we together?”

  Well, shit, I thought that was a given at this point. For months, all I’ve wanted was her, but as I predicted, I needed to wait until she realized I was safe. “That depends.”

  She glances up at me. “On what?”

  A coy smirk plays on my lips. “Your choice.”

  “What’s yours?” she asks, her eyes flickering back and forth between mine.

  Chuckling, I press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Baby, in this case, I didn’t have a choice. I was yours the minute you drop-kicked me in the face.”

  “IF THE TWO OF YOU keep this shit up, you’ll fuck each other to death,” Keith declares while scraping a plastic spatula around a pan full of eggs.

  That’s about all the guy can cook. And I use the word ‘cook’ very loosely. Doesn’t matter what type of eggs he’s going for, eventually he’ll get pissed off to the point where they end up scrambled. To be honest, I’m not even sure Keith knows how to boil water.

  “There are worse ways to go.” I flop down on the couch, checking the digital clock on the TV box. Less than thirty minutes ‘til practice—just enough time to finish an episode of MasterChef before heading out.

  Dahlia got me hooked on this show. The first time we watched it, she made the audacious claim that no man could live up to Gordon Ramsay for her. Let’s just say while the judges were tasting the contestants’ dishes, I was tasting Dahlia. And man, was she sweet.

  It’s funny, I’ve never pegged myself as the jealous type. Can’t say I’ve ever experienced the feeling with any other girl. But where Dahlia is concerned, my inner caveman likes to jump out, club swinging every once in a while. Dahlia puts up a front like she minds it, but deep down, I think she actually enjoys it, at least a little bit. My stubborn girl.

  My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and lifting my ass off the couch, I pull it out just as it stops buzzing. Missed call from my dad. Fuckin’ A. This is the third time in less than two weeks I’ve missed a call from him.

  I promised to talk to him more, but I’ve been so swamped with school work, practice, and enjoying some quality time with Dahlia, it keeps slipping my mind.

  I make a mental note to call him this weekend. He’s supposed to come to our home game this Friday against Boston. That should be a fun game. And by fun, I mean fucking brutal. Boston’s team takes no prisoners, and with the way we’ve been playing lately, neither do we.

  This would actually be a good chance for Dahlia to meet my dad. I haven’t brought a girl home since before my mom died. My dad and my brother mean everything to me, and after losing my mom, I wasn’t about to bring some random hookup or conniving social climber home to my father.

  I open my messaging app and tap out a text to Dahlia.

  Me: Got a game this Fri. Wanna come?

  I don’t have to wait more than a minute for her response. A world of difference from back when I’d stare at my phone for ten minutes waiting for a single-word reply.

  Dahlia: okay ☺

  All right, so she’s not the world’s most enthusiastic texter, but this one didn’t take ten minutes, and I got a smiley face.

  The bitter smell of something burning fills the room, making my nose curl up in distaste. The smoke detector begins its horrible shrill beep.

  “Son of a fucking bitch!” Keith shouts, violently waving a tattered dish towel to clear the smoke. “That show is giving me a complex, man.”

  I walk into the kitchen, open a drawer, and pull out a blue checkered dish towel. I flap the cloth underneath the detector. “Were you even watching it?”

  The damn thing finally stops beeping, and we both drop our arms.

  “No, but I could feel them judging me,” he grumbles, stomping over to the stove. He slams the ruined eggs into the sink.

  I shake my head in disbelief. The guy really is a couple fries short of a Happy Meal. “Thank hell you don’t play like you cook.”

  “Shut up, Z,” he snaps while violently scrubbing the poor frying pan.

  After shutting off the TV, I jog up the stairs. “Practice in twenty. Toute suite, Julia Child!”

  I laugh as he goes off on a tirade about shoving the frying pan up my ass and getting a new roommate.

  CAFÉ AU LAIT IS BUSY as hell. I’m standing in a line that’s almost out the door while Lexi bounces on her toes next to me as she monitors the rapidly depleting tray of chocolate croissants.

  I, myself, am feeling a tad antsy. With training, classes, and an ever-growing stack of assignments, I haven’t been able to see Zack all week, and since I’m not a big fan of texting, our time together this week has been limited to two measly phone calls. Although he did coax me into an exhilarating session of phone sex that made me very happy Christos’s room is at the other end of the hall. It was so much
hotter than I’d thought it would be. Who knew the sound of his voice describing what he wanted to do to me could be so fucking erotic? That was the first time I’ve ever done something like that, and if the three orgasms I had say anything about phone sex, it’s severely underrated.

  I turn to Lexi, whose fidgeting is driving me up the freakin’ wall. “You do realize that bouncing up and down like that won’t stop the croissants from being taken?”

  She whines, “But, look!”

  She points at the tray with only three chocolate croissants left, which the customer speaking to the barista seems to order as she proceeds to put them in a small brown paper bag.

  “Going, going . . . gone,” I say as the barista tosses in the last one.

  Lexi throws her head back and growls in frustration. “Great!” She runs a hand through her faded pink hair. “I’m stuck with the regular old croissants.”

  I snicker. “Oh, what a world you live in, Lex, where you’re faced with the horrible fate of eating a delicious pastry without chocolate.”

  “You’ve been way too chipper lately since you’ve routinely been getting laid,” she mumbles.

  That makes me chuckle. She certainly isn’t wrong, but it’s not just the amazing sex. Just being with Zack and spending time with him without my past making me shrivel away is like the ultimate freedom.

  Finally making it to the counter, Lexi sullenly orders plain croissants and a bowl of fruit while I go for a roast beef sandwich and an apple.

  We take a table in the far corner of the café, light years away from our usual spot by the window. With how packed the place is, it’s amazing that we found a spot at all.

  “So,” Lexi mumbles around a strawberry she’s stuffed in her mouth. “Are you coming to Christie’s party this Friday night?”

  My lips unintentionally curl around a bite of the crusty bread and savory meat. I really don’t care for Christie. She’ll smile to your face, but beneath that angel’s mask is a demon who would sooner tear your life apart than help you. I’ll never understand why Lexi likes her. I know they’re sorority sisters and all, but still, Christie is a snake. Thankfully, I have a good excuse to avoid going.

  “Zack invited me to his game this Friday.” I wipe my mouth with a paper napkin. I know it’s a long shot, but with the way she talked about the party a few days ago, she sounded less than enthused. “Do you want to go with me?”

  Her shoulders slump forward. “No, thanks.” She picks at the flakey pastry. “I’m in charge of practically the whole thing.”

  Ah, the other reason why I loathe Christie. She bosses Lexi around like her own personal assistant. At this point, I’m surprised Lexi doesn’t carry a little notepad for whenever they walk next to each other.

  I drop my sandwich onto the plate, making the top piece of bread flip off onto the table. “It’s her party, Lex,” I point out as I place the bread back over the meat. “Why can’t she handle it?”

  “Christie’s not as bad as you think she is.”

  Yeah, I seriously doubt that. “Didn’t she convince you to break up with Josh last year?”

  I don’t bother mentioning how she snidely attempted to dig her claws into Zack a few weeks back. Just thinking about that makes me want to tear every last strand of fake blond hair from her head.

  Josh and Lexi dated nearly our entire freshman year. Things seemed to be going well. Lexi was happy, Josh was a decent guy, and then bam, sophomore year came and Lexi joined the sorority and Christie took to her like a vulture to a carcass. Josh and Lexi broke up three months later. Even though we’re juniors now, and Josh transferred to Arizona state, he’s still a bit of a sore spot for her.

  Lexi huffs and sits back in her chair. “Because he was cheating on me!”

  I can’t really comment on whether or not that’s a fact, but what I do know is that if he was cheating, it was with Christie and by her initiation. “Okay, Lex.”

  “Anyway.” She pops a grape into her mouth. “Things seem to be going well with you and Zack. I’m happy you’re happy, Dahly.”

  I know she means it with all her heart. Lexi may have goaded me a little into getting involved with Zack and at the time, I was annoyed and even confused. She knows I’m not the relationship type, and she’d never pushed the issue. Then again, any guy I brought back to our dorm was only there a few hours before I booted them through the door. No phone number exchanges and certainly no one showing up at my studio to force me into a date. I guess Lexi saw the same thing in Zack that I was too stubborn to admit I saw too.

  It’s different with Zack, I find so much a comfort in knowing that he sees all of me. Growing up the way I did doesn’t change the incredible way he looks at me—like I light up his world. In truth, he was the one to light up mine.

  But where there is light, shadows follow close behind.

  MY HEART IS RACING ABOUT a thousand miles an hour, and I’m pacing in the locker room like a fucking dumbass. Even Keith is looking at me as though I’m out of my mind.

  I’m not usually this nervous before a game, but Boston has been a thorn in our side this entire season, and this game will determine whether or not our team makes it to the semifinals. Not to mention Dahlia will be here, and so will my father.

  I have a feeling he’ll adore Dahlia as much as I do, but I’m a little worried that she may not be ready to meet my family, that it’s too much too soon. Hell, we’ve only been officially seeing each other for a few short weeks. She’s still skittish about certain things, but I hope meeting my family isn’t one of them. If she were any other girl, this would never be an issue because I never would have set it up. But Dahlia isn’t just any girl. She’s my girl. She’s it for me.

  “Will you sit your ass down?” Keith harshly whispers, tugging me by the back of my jersey to pull me onto the bench. “You’re making me jittery. And we need to win this game.”

  I nod but tap my heels back and forth on the tile floor while I lean forward with my forearms on my knees. I can’t seem to stop fidgeting.

  Coach Davidson walks in, and the room falls silent while he paces in front of us with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes cast to the floor. “I won’t lie to you all. We’ve had some tough periods this season.”

  Because of a certain center player with his head up his ass, I fill in the blanks for him.

  “But we made it this far. You made it this far.” He points at the team lineup. “Do you want this?”

  The team bellows a collective, “Hell yeah!”

  “Then go out there and play like it’s the last game you’ll ever play. Make it count. Check their players and get that puck into the fucking net before they can so much as blink!” he shouts.

  The whole team rises in a roar, sticks jutting into the air.

  “Do me proud, guys,” is the last thing he says before walking off, leaving us pumped and ready to tear these guys to shreds.

  With my expert pass—if I do say so myself—to Keith, he snaps the puck into the net before the goalie even realizes what’s happening. Ending the game 5-3.

  The arena explodes in a roar while the team, myself included, flies up to Keith and piles on top of him.

  “We’re in the fucking playoffs, baby!” I shout when he finally manages to get up. Ah, victory is so fucking sweet!

  He throws his head back and laughs, straddling his hockey stick and waving his hand as if he’s smacking an imaginary ass. He played like a pro today. We all did, and while I’d love to continue waxing on about our win, there’s just one person I want to see right now.

  After a quick shower during which my teammates smacked me on the shoulder so many time the hot water felt cold. Flying through the back door, I catch Dahlia standing by my Jeep, looking all kinds of sexy in one of my hoodies and dark-washed jeans. I almost laugh at the sight, because in the short time we’ve been together, she’s stolen nearly all of my sweatshirts after either having forgotten her jacket or simply dressing too light. Funny as it is, I can’t deny I view th
e hoodie like a sign of claim. She’s mine.

  I grab her cheeks and press my lips to hers, taking in her shocked inhale and tasting the faint spice of cinnamon.

  “You were incredible!” she exclaims before throwing her arms around me.

  I squeeze her tightly. It meant the fucking world to me that she was here for this. When I pull back, I look around the parking lot, searching for the bright red Chevy Crossover my father drives. Whenever my dad comes to one of my games, we always meet in the back parking lot, but . . . he’s not here.

  My brows pinched, I reach into my back pocket for my phone.

  “What’s the matter?” Dahlia asks.

  “Just wondering where my dad is.”

  Dahlia’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t tell me I was meeting your father tonight.”

  I let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Yeah, well, I don’t see him anywhere, so you may have gotten out of it.”

  Sensing my distress, she touches my arm. “Is everything okay?”

  Nodding, I pour through my notifications. A red exclamation point hovers over the voicemail icon. Seeing it’s from my dad, I press Play and bring the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, son.” His voice sounds ragged. “I hope you get this before the game, but I caught one of those stomach bugs going around and it’s hit me good.”

  There’s a long pause. I pull my phone away to check if that was the end of the message, but I jerk the phone back to my ear when his voice comes through the speaker.

  “Give them hell, Son. I hope you know how proud I am of you and Finn. Your mother would be proud too.” Another brief silence before, “I love you, Son.”

  I know he’s sick, but something doesn’t seem right. He almost sounded . . . sad. Maybe he felt bad for missing the game?

  My thumb presses the call back button, and I mouth, “One second,” to Dahlia.

  She nods as my dad picks up.

  “Did you win?” he asks.

  I smile. “Yeah, we won.”

  “Atta boy.” But his voice lacks the enthusiasm I expected.