I Promise You

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  We fall into the room, and the door barely shuts before we’re panting, facing each other. I hardly take in the space, seeing her rumpled bed, her laptop, her scattered clothes.

  “It’s been a long time for me,” she says.

  Satisfaction hits me and I rush my words. “Good. Do you have condoms? I don’t. I can go to the drugstore across the—”

  She takes a deep breath, turns, and digs around in a duffle in her closet. Turning, she holds up a box. “Never leave home without them, you know, after…”

  My fingers slide the straps of her dress down. There’s no bra as I reveal her nipples, dark pink, taut, and delicious. Clenching the fabric of her bodice, I drag the silky material up and down against her breasts, teasing her until they’re pebbled and erect. My lips close over one, flicking then sucking it into my mouth.

  She cries out, gasping as she arches. Her fingers dig into my scalp. She groans as I move to the other breast, testing the weight, my thumb circling her nipple and tugging.

  “You can’t deny this.” I kiss her lips, deep and hard, my tongue searching her mouth, committing the feel, the taste of her to memory. Her hands find my hair as her hips rock against mine. Dark need rushes at me and I sway on my feet.

  Is her passion as big as mine? As frightening?

  I roll my erection against her and she whimpers.

  Serena. You make me insane.

  I can’t get enough of her mouth. The sweet kiss we shared at Cadillac’s isn’t what I want. No, no—I want her dirty and ugly and hard. We collide, eating at each other, breaths mingling as I slant over her lips, trying to get deeper, wanting all her secrets. Sounds of pleasure and desire erupt from her throat. I drop her dress to her feet and she shoves at my shirt. I help her tug it off over my head and toss it on the floor.

  We stare at each other, chests panting. She’s perfect and beautiful and proud in her red lacey thong, and the sight of her hits like a fist to my gut. So long I’ve waited. Days. Nights. Years.

  My fingers hook in her panties and I pull her back to me, our flesh sizzling.

  “Serena…” I sweep her up and she’s light as a feather as I drape her on the end of the bed. I scoot her down and kneel between her thighs. “I want to taste you.”

  Her body clenches, her legs quivering as I kiss her. Her hand touches my face, her thumb sliding between my lips, and I suck it, my tongue wrapping around her finger.

  She pulls it away, her voice needy. “Don’t make me wait.” She arches her hips as I slide down her thong, revealing her mound, her slickness gleaming between her legs. A long gust of air comes from me. She’s perfect… “Drenched,” I say hoarsely.

  Dipping my head, I lick her from the bottom of her sex to her clit. She shouts my name as I bury my face in her scent, the folds of her skin, her tight channel. Hauling her closer, my hands lift her ass and I delve inside her, fucking her with my tongue. I devour her. She’s all I want. Nothing else matters, not parents who don’t need me or a brother who died.

  One finger glides inside her, then another as I work it in and out. The shadow on my jaw abrades her thighs as I pant against her skin, breathing, just breathing. I haven’t been with anyone in months and now it’s her. I want to consume her, want her to come so hard she’ll never forget me.

  My tongue toys with her clit. I suck soft then hard as I fuck her with my fingers. A keening noise comes from her lips.

  “Come, Serena,” I say, my voice rough, soaked in need, dying to be inside her.

  She writhes under me and tugs my hair. “Kiss me.”

  “Come first.” I kiss her thigh then her clit, flicking.

  She lifts her leg, her heels digging into my back as her body arches up, her pussy spasming against me, grasping and fluttering as she goes over the edge. Tremors vibrate through her, her hips twitching.

  I climb up to her and we kiss, the taste of her still on my lips. Reaching over her head, I find the condom on the nightstand but can’t rip it open. My hands shake. She takes it from me and uses her teeth, dazed eyes holding mine.

  “Hurry,” I growl.

  She scoots up on the bed and beckons me with a curl of her fingers. “Come here.”

  Like a man dying of thirst, I crawl over her, my thighs straddling her as I rise up on my knees. Her breasts brush against me as she takes me in her mouth.

  “Fuck!” I throw my head back, tearing my eyes off the image of her full lips wrapped around me. Hands on my ass, she tugs me closer, her hot mouth taking me in, her throat closing around me. I can’t breathe.

  Must look at her.

  Her eyes gaze up at me, heavy with desire.

  “Enough,” I mutter through clenched teeth.

  She gives me a slow smile as she gives my crown a final lick and slides the condom on.

  She pushes me down to the bed and climbs on top of me. My hands caress her from her hips to her breasts, tweaking her rock-hard nipples between my fingers. “Ride me.” It’s a demand.

  “Don’t boss me around.”

  I growl and pull her down for a hard kiss. Her forehead presses to mine as I test her slick entrance, rubbing through her sex. She leans back and sets me inside her, inch by inch, until I’m gasping. Her heat wraps around me, her sheath tight and hot.

  “Dandelion,” I rasp. “Take all of me.”

  She starts for a moment at the nickname, then moves her hips and I sink home, shuddering.

  “Faster, harder,” I plead as she moves, rising up and down, her hips rolling like a dancer’s.

  Serena…

  I need control. I flip her under me, and my first thrust is hard, my second harder. She gives it back just as wild, hands in my hair, her pelvis rising to meet mine. I kiss her as I fuck her, and she calls my name, feeding off my frenzy. I bite her shoulder and she bites me back, sharp and stinging, the sensation going straight to my cock.

  “On your stomach,” I gasp.

  Without waiting for her, I turn her over and she gets on her knees. Gripping her ass, I groan as I pump inside her heat once again. I hover over her back, my lips latching onto hers as she cranes her neck to find me. Our tongues tangle in an erotic dance as I twist my hips and stroke into her.

  She cries into my mouth, her hands fisting the covers.

  “Roar when you come,” I whisper as I reposition her ass, angling my body to hit the top of her, my pelvis slapping against her. My thumb rotates against her nub in sync with my thrusts. “Serena, Serena, Serena…”

  Grunts reverberate around the room, the sounds of our sex filling my ears as sweat drips down my face.

  She moans, the sounds indecipherable, and I groan with her, clutching her tighter.

  “Dillon!” she yells as she shatters, clenching around me.

  “So fucking good…” I shout as I join her, her name on my lips as I break apart, still thrusting as my arms wrap around her waist and hold her against me.

  We pant for several moments, our bodies slick with sweat. I slide out, dispose of the condom, and plop back down on the bed next to her. She’s still face down taking deep breaths. I trail my fingers over her shoulder and kiss the dimple at the base of her spine—the one I always knew was there. “That was amazing. Round two in ten minutes?”

  She says something, the sound muffled by the bed. She turns over, a smile on her face. Her hair sticks out at the top and my lips twitch. “Again?” she asks.

  My heart skips a beat when our eyes cling. My words are soft. “Pour toujours.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Forever.

  “It means that we’re gonna use the chair next time. You on top.”

  She laughs, the sound soft and husky, taking me right back to a starry night.

  Finally, finally, Dandelion. Mine.

  18

  I’m late. Ugh. The bus left an hour ago, so I’ll need to get an Uber to the stadium. Thankfully, Neil is still around when I arrive in the lobby. He’s wearing a blue dress shirt and tailored gray slacks, his hair swept back, gl
asses on. A broad smile crosses his face as he takes in my navy skirt and white shell blouse.

  “We missed you last night. Got to meet some of the ESPN guys,” he says. “Your headache better?”

  A blush steals up my cheeks. Headache. Right.

  I banged Dillon McQueen.

  A shiver races over me at the memory, his demands, that insatiable side of him. After the mattress acrobatics, round two was on the chair, my legs straddling his, his mouth sucking my neck as I rode him. Round three was in the shower, my back against the tile as water poured over us. His mouth clung to mine with every thrust of his hips.

  The sex god left for his room at midnight, late for his curfew. Two hours with him…was it enough? No. He’s sneaking inside me, making me crave dangerous things.

  My hand touches the charm around my neck, tied with a ribbon and hidden by my shirt. Good luck for the team, I told myself when I put it on yesterday. It’s not like I’m in love with him. That’s crazy.

  “Just tired from the flight.”

  Something he sees on my face makes him pause. “Are you involved with McQueen?”

  I compose my features, but uneasiness makes me stiffen. There’s no rule that says I can’t. Yes, I’m interning for the Gazette, and that does put me in an odd position… Pushing my thoughts aside, I settle for the best answer. “No.”

  He exhales, searching my face. “Ah, good.”

  “Why would you ask?” Does my gaze linger too long on him in the stands? It can’t be the articles. I’m simply reporting the game particulars, the touchdowns, the passes, the score, etc. It’s the most boring writing I’ve done, but at least I’m learning the game.

  “On the plane, when you walked past him, I thought I heard some talk…”

  My attention sharpens. “What talk?”

  He shrugs. “It’s just that you’re new and don’t understand how rowdy players can get. In the past they took bets, usually offense versus defense.”

  “I remember something like that…they had a trophy and maybe a scoreboard?” It’s a distant memory.

  He nods. “They live and die by their traditions. When I played basketball, we did our own things.”

  “You think there’s a bet about me?”

  “I heard Troy ask Dillon about a challenge and you’d just talked to him—”

  “And you think they meant me?” My tone is sharp, and he shrugs.

  “I’m sure I was mistaken. Besides, you’re smart enough to avoid a guy like him.”

  He isn’t a bad person. Plus, Dillon wouldn’t set me up as part of some contest, like the Theta thing.

  “Serena! Serena!” comes two girly voices.

  I look over Neil’s shoulders as Chantal and Bambi waltz through the lobby. Decked out in tight jeans, cropped jerseys, styled hair, and full makeup, they look gorgeous. Tiger stickers adorn their cheeks, blue and orange pom-poms in their hands.

  “Who are they?” Neil asks, caught in their thrall.

  “My sisters,” I murmur. “Didn’t know I had them until recently.” I smile at his confusion. “Thetas. They like me for some reason.”

  “We adore you!” calls Chantal, overhearing my comment. They smother me in hugs and squeals.

  I rear back, some of the anxiousness Neil’s words caused disappearing. I do a quick round of introductions while he wanders off to arrange an Uber for all of us.

  They tell me about the seven-hour drive. “Thank God Ashley rode in a different car,” Bambi grouses. “If I hear her playlist for her and Dillon one more time, I will shoot myself.”

  “So, Troy? What happened after I left Caddy’s?” I’ve missed talking to her this week.

  She flips a strand of blonde hair over her shoulder. “He’s being weird.”

  “But…” I arch my brows.

  “Maybe I’ll give him another go.” She shrugs.

  I elbow Bambi. “And Sawyer?”

  A blush steals up her face. “Um, about that. I asked him to the Fall Ball, so…”

  “What she means is…Ashley wins the contest by default,” Chantal says tersely. “She’s babbling to anyone who’ll listen about her big night with Dillon. It’s all over Insta. Wouldn’t be surprised if she took an ad out in your paper.” She gives me an appraising glance. “What’s wrong?”

  I’m picturing Ashley in a gorgeous floor-length dress and Dillon in a tux at the formal. They’re dancing, and he’s holding her, her curves against his…

  My hands tighten.

  “What the heck is that on your neck?” interrupts Bambi. She leans in, pulling at the silky tie thingy near the hollow of my throat. “Well, well, it’s a big, juicy hickey. Call the paramedics, Chantal. Our girl’s been busy!” She pokes me. “You need a blood transfusion?”

  “Oh, a love bite! Show me! Move, I can’t see, Bam,” Chantal edges in, elbowing Bambi as they inspect the side of my neck.

  “Keep it down,” I mutter as I eye Neil.

  Did he see it? Is that why he asked about Dillon?

  Inwardly, I groan. Have to hide it from Romy…

  “I dabbed makeup on it for fifteen minutes,” I say ruefully.

  They blink down at me.

  I huff. “It’s just a little bruise!”

  “Maybe put some ice on it,” Chantal says on a snicker.

  “Was it WBBJ guy?” Bambi whispers, eyeing Neil a few feet away. “He’s cute, like an accountant. Or a lawyer. Maybe a professor. I like them with less tweed and more brawn, but to each their own—”

  “No.”

  “Was it some guy from the hotel bar? That’s a fantasy of mine,” Chantal muses.

  I retie my shirt, adjusting the front of my blouse. “No!”

  “So who?” Chantal presses as she reaches behind me.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Taking your hair down. The up-do is cute, but your necktie is slipping and everyone’ll see it. Your hair needs to be down. It’s so gorgeous.”

  “It was Dillon,” Bambi says, her eyes sharp. “He was all over you at Caddy’s.”

  I touch the dandelion under my blouse. “No.”

  “Liar!” she calls, and I shush her.

  “Stop yelling. Fine, fine, it was, but you can’t tell anyone. It was a…”

  “One-time thing?” Chantal finishes.

  I shrug.

  Her mouth twists. “Oh, honey, don’t…” She trails off, looking to Bambi for support.

  Bambi exhales, pink lips pursed. “He’s a slippery one. Keep your heart locked away, feel me?”

  “Did you do the deed?” Chantal asks. “Was he huge? He looks huge.”

  “Three times.”

  “Was it amazing?” Bambi gushes.

  It was. “No comment.”

  “Meanie,” she chirps.

  I circle back to what Neil mentioned. “Have either of you heard about the guys doing bets?”

  They frown in sync, and Chantal responds, “There used to be bets until Ryker got involved with a girl over one and it blew up in his face. He had to grovel his way back into her good graces. Why? Want me to investigate?” Her eyes narrow. “I will kill Dillon McQueen if they’ve brought that tradition back.”

  Bambi shakes her head. “He’d never do that.”

  Neil calls out that the Uber has arrived.

  “Come on, forget that. Let’s get to the stadium,” Bambi says, and I follow them outside. We laugh and chat about the game, but inside, a kernel of doubt drops and swirls. The Dillon I know does get hung up on superstition and traditions, but he’s not the kind of guy who’d use me for his team. He’s not the one-dimensional, shallow person I assumed he was. I push the idea out of my head and think of him in the elevator, his face devastated that his father wasn’t coming.

  19

  Boos rain down as we run off the field for halftime. Nothing makes a crowd angrier than a visiting team showing up and snagging a twenty-one-to-nothing lead in the first half.

  “Who dat kicking LSU’s ass!” Troy shouts.
/>   “LSU who? Dillon is the man!” Sawyer replies. “It’s because you won your challenge,” he says to me under his breath, and I send him a sharp look. When I came in last night, he took one look at me and figured out where I’d been. Serena is not about the challenge.

  Coach Alvarez rolls in, his eyes roving over each of us like an eagle. “Simmer down! We’ve got a second half to play, and you can bet the other locker room is working their ass off to figure out how to flip the script.” He puffs out his barrel chest. “Good half.”

  We whoop.

  “McQueen, excellent job. Keep chipping away at the small stuff, but don’t get sloppy.”

  I nod.

  “Break into your groups, listen to your coaches, and keep the fight on their side of the field, because who are we?” He puts a hand to his ear.

  “WAYLON! TIGERS!” More whoops as Sawyer drops to the floor and does a body roll, pads and all.

  We head off to team breakouts, and I suck down a Gatorade and sit next to Sinclair. He’s quiet as Coach Allen breaks down our plays, my passes, the coverage we can expect for the second half. He finishes with some changes he wants to try, and I study the plays.

  The noise from the LSU fans hits us like a wave in the ocean as we line up for the second half. My nerves are stretched as we run the ball on first and second down, picking up eight yards. All we need is two more for a first down.

  “Hike!”

  Moving fast, I turn to fake a handoff. The defensive end on the right side has beat Sawyer, so I aim downfield for the tight end and send a perfect pass.

  The LSU safety comes out of nowhere and snatches the ball then steps out of bounds. Fuck! It’s my first interception of the season.

  Our defense takes the field, and one of them slaps me on the ass. “Chin up, McQueen.”

  My shoulders roll as I walk off the field and wait for Coach.