The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs Book 2)

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The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs Book 2) Page 20

by Kate Stewart


  “Sure,” he says absently. “Hand me that snap driver.”

  “Got it,” I say, sorting through his toolbox. The toolbox he bought when he decided I needed a few repairs around the house. Since our night of home movies weeks ago, his season ended with only one more win killing all hopes of Texas Grand making the playoffs. And because he’s on winter break from school, he’s been pushing himself harder than ever. He’s restless, nervous about the invite to the NFL Combine, and no amount of assurance on my part seems to help. His whole future rides on the next few months, and so he’s been spending endless hours at the gym during the day before working the extra shifts he’s picked up at night. He’s bulked up, and it shows. His clothes cling to him, perfectly accentuating his insane build. He’s in a cream sweater and dark jeans and looks fucking mouthwatering. We’ve barely had any time alone since our almost kiss, and I can’t stop thinking about what might have happened if Parker hadn’t interrupted the moment. Since then, it’s been lingering looks, and too brief kisses goodnight once he’s tucked Dante in. Tonight, I decided to pull out all the big guns, wearing a set of red silk pajamas and only a red thong beneath.

  I’m waxed, spritzed, and buffed, in hopes of something other than a PG kiss goodnight. I have no idea where we stand, but I’m teetering on the brink of madness at this point.

  “You know what a snap driver is, don’t you?” Troy prompts from where he sits as I sort through the endless box of tools giving him a clear shot of cleavage through my silky top.

  “Of course, I do.” I have absolutely no idea what the hell a snap driver is. But I damn sure won’t tell him that as I take my time, glancing between him and the toolbox. He doesn’t so much as look my way as I scrutinize every tool.

  “Then you are aware it’s a figment of my imagination.” He chuckles as I look up and see his movie star grin before narrowing my eyes.

  “You dick.”

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist. So, I guess having me around has come in handy?”

  “Don’t go fishing for compliments after insulting a woman’s intelligence.”

  “You’re the smartest woman I know,” he says easily as he tests the wheels on the bike before flipping it over and unlatching the kickstand.

  “What?”

  He studies the bike after weighing my expression. “It’s good, I swear, and I got the dorky ass helmet you demanded and knee pads.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. I’m his—”

  “I mean for that compliment.”

  “Oh,” he waves his hand. “Well, you are.”

  “It’s nice of you to say.”

  “Well, I mean it.”

  I yawn, and he stands.

  “Tired, huh?” He looks at the clock. “This is normally the time I get ready for work.”

  “How can you stand it?”

  “Sometimes, I can’t. I’ll be happy when I have one job, even if it looks like it’s going to be UPS.”

  “Troy, you’ll get drafted. There’s so much talk, and you had a spectacular season despite the way it ended.”

  He shakes his head, his disappointment evident. “Let’s not go there tonight, okay?”

  I nod. “Okay.” I perk up for his sake. “Hey, you want some eggnog?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Coffee?”

  Tea? Me?

  I’m doting on him like a lovesick teenager, but I can’t seem to help myself.

  “I’m good,” he repeats, grabbing another box and pulling out the contents. “This is fun,” he says, opening another set of directions.

  “Never has been for me. I’m thankful you’re here. I used to have a hell of a time doing this alone. Parker would sometimes help when she was home, but she usually just dictated while I pulled my hair out. And the irony is Dante is so good at this kind of stuff. Now I see where he gets it. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “You said that,” he looks over to me as he rips open the plastic, and for that brief moment, I swear I see a flash of heat in his eyes. However, just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone.

  “What?” He asks without looking my way.

  “I’m just wondering if you’re missing something tonight.”

  “Missing something?” He opens a bag of screws.

  “You know, a party, booze,” I hold out my hands from my chest. “Big breasted elves.”

  “Clarissa, I’m not into that anymore.”

  “Hmm,” I say, pulling the trash from the carpet.

  He grabs my free hand and commands my eyes. “I’m exactly where I want to be. Okay?”

  He slides his thumb over the back of my hand, and I melt into that touch as my skin heats.

  It’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous. I’m a horny, needy woman. Maybe that’s why I haven’t been on the receiving end of more of his attention because I’m reeking of desperation. I feel like a fool as I gather the rest of the trash.

  “He’s going to love this,” Troy says. “I can’t wait to see his face.”

  “I was thinking. If you want to spend the night on the couch, you’re welcome to, so you can be here when he wakes up.”

  “Yeah. That will be cool.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  He nods, intent on his task.

  I crack Dante’s door for a quick check and see he’s hanging off the bed. I right him beneath the covers before closing his door and setting a decorative ring of bells on the handle to ensure we can hear him coming.

  Armed with blankets and a pillow, I pad into the living room to see Troy standing and stretching.

  “You’re done already?”

  I bend over to inspect Dante’s new desk and light stands. “This is awesome. What a good idea. He’s going to love making his videos with this.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I hear uttered in annoyance and glance over my shoulder to see Troy scrubbing his face with his palm.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he says hoarsely.

  I frown and take a step forward. “Troy, what’s going on? I thought we were okay.”

  He stares down at me, pushing the hair away from my shoulder. “We are.”

  “Why are you acting so weird?”

  “It’s nothing,” he says, “I just have a lot on my mind. I’m going to head home. I’ll probably be up anyway when he wakes up.”

  “You’re not going to stay?”

  “No. I’ve got some stuff to do.”

  “It’s one in the morning,” I hear the whine in my own voice and inwardly cringe.

  Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

  But I can’t stop the thoughts racing through my mind. Jealousy burns through me at the idea that it might not be stuff, but a who he needs to do.

  He leans down and kisses my cheek. “Merry Christmas. See you in the morning.”

  “Do you want me to text you when—” The door shuts behind him, and I stand there staring blankly at it, wondering where I went wrong.

  Just weeks ago, he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Unable to handle another second of his hot and cold, I stalk after him.

  “Troy.” He’s halfway across the yard when I catch up with him, freezing in nothing but my pajamas. “What in the hell is your problem? I thought we were okay?”

  He lets out a slow exhale. “I don’t want to fight.”

  “Why are you angry?”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “Oh, really? Is that why you won’t even look at me?”

  “I’ll see you in the morning. We’re good, I promise.”

  “Fine, whatever, better go get to doing whomever you need to do.”

  He turns on a dime and grabs my wrist, and before I know what’s happening, I’m flush to him as he places my palm over his erection. I gasp at the feel of the bulge in his jeans as he leans in close.

  “In an adult relationship, sex is gradual,” he grits out. “There’s no one and done.” Heat rolls off him as he runs my hand back and forth along the len
gth of his cock. “You take the time to get to know the person, make sure your goals match because you’re well versed on what you do, and do not want.”

  Realization dawns that my own words have come back to bite me in the ass.

  “I want to be what you need. I want to be that man for you. And I’m fucking trying.” Mouth parted, he growls, yanking me closer. “It’s not anyone but you, and right now, I’m not in the mood for conversation. It’s taking everything I have not to rip those fucking pajamas off your body, spread your legs and eat that beautiful pussy and ass you so painstakingly keep waving in my face.”

  In the next second, I’m covered in nothing but Troy, his warm hands, lips, and tongue as he plunges it into my mouth. I kiss him back in a fever, wrapping around him and tugging at his hair. He grips my ass fully while I climb him like a monkey before grinding on him like a stripper.

  “Jesus Christ, I swear you’re trying to kill me,” he rasps out between kisses as I grip his sweater, pulling in for more. Enveloped in his hold, he deepens the kiss as I hook my ankles around his waist. It’s freezing, but we’re an inferno in between our two yards, the neighborhood eerily silent. Only the sound of our kiss and mingling fast breaths between us.

  He rips himself away. “Fuck, I can’t take this.”

  My lips are too busy for a reply as I suck on his neck, inhaling his cologne, my body lit. And then we’re moving, my lips locked on his neck as he opens the door to his house.

  This has me pulling back.

  “Theo’s in Houston, Lance went home.” That’s all he manages to get out as he whisks me up the stairs and sets me down on the edge of his bed. We both turn to see Dante sleeping soundly feet away. And then we’re kissing again while he slowly unbuttons the top of my pajamas, moving the material just enough to expose one of my breasts before pulling it into his mouth.

  I moan, my head falling back as he alternates between licks and sucks.

  “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, gliding a warm hand up my neck before threading his fingers through my hair.

  “Troy,” I say, whimpering as my pulse pounds between my legs.

  “I love that answer,” he says, rimming a finger along the waistband of my pajamas.

  “Touch me, please.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I nod.

  “I need words, Clarissa.”

  “Yes, touch me, please. I’m so fucking wet.”

  He groans in reply, drawing the string on my bottoms, giving them just enough of a push so they slide to the floor. His perfect lips part when he sees my thong.

  “I have to have a taste,” he says, turning me to face his bed before pinning my hands on the mattress. And then he’s exploring, covering me with calloused hands. “Jesus, Clarissa, you thought I could want someone else? Can’t you feel how much I want you?” He presses his cock against me, making me gasp. “I’ve been losing my fucking mind, trying to hold back.” He runs his hands along my thighs before massaging my ass with his palms.

  “Every time I stroke my cock, every time I come, it’s with your name on my lips,” he murmurs before his tongue darts out, covering the material gathered at my soaked slit. My back bows at the feel of him as he continues to taunt me without enough contact. Fire trails from my head to my toes as he ravages me with mouth and hands, my erratic breaths, and his groans the only sounds in the room.

  “I’m trying to give you what you want,” he says, between licks pulling at the material with his teeth and nudging my legs further apart with his nose.

  “Troy, please,” I plead as he lifts the string and runs the flat part of his tongue in a complete sweep down my core. I damn near collapse on my hands as he fucks me with his tongue. I’m already on the verge, the friction of my nipples on his comforter causing another spike of pleasure as my moans grow louder.

  “So sexy.” Palming my ass, he spreads me as his tongue darts out, the material becoming the bane of my existence, his flick rhythmic as he drives me to the brink.

  “Take them off,” I beg as he plunges deeper before lowering to suck my clit through the silk.

  “Jesus, Troy, please. Please!”

  I lift to remove my thong and get rewarded with a slap on the ass.

  “Don’t you fucking dare. I’ve been dreaming about this for years.”

  “Please, Troy, I need you.”

  “No,” he says, kissing down the length of my back, his hand snaking around my waist. His fingers dip inside my panties, sliding between my lips to massage my clit. “I need you. You’re all I can think about anymore. No one else. No one,” he says, running his tongue along the shell of my ear. “I haven’t touched another woman since that day we fought on that lawn, and I don’t want to.” I turn my head and meet his lips as he brings me into his kiss. Moth and flame, our mouths collide over and over, our hunger consuming us both. He carries me with him, turning me over, his eyes roaming the whole of me. He’s still fully dressed as I lay helplessly bare, breasts exposed, in a soaked thong.

  “Everything I kiss, everything I touch tonight, now belongs to me. You hear me?”

  I nod.

  “Words, Clarissa.”

  “Yes, I want that too. Troy, please,” I reach for him, and he shakes his head, using a finger to tug one side of my thong just past my hip, his eyes intent on mine.

  “Did you break up with him for me?”

  I moan, frenzied, as he continues the working of his fingers.

  “Clarissa,” he growls, demanding an answer.

  “Yes,” I rasp out. “Are we really doing this?”

  “Yes, and we’re doing it right,” he murmurs before running a trail of kisses down to my navel. I grip his head as he begins to inch down toward the other side of my thong.

  When his lips finally drift back to mine, we’re tangled tongues inhaling each other’s moans. He pulls away, running a finger up my slit before hooking the center of my panties and sliding them down. Kneeling between my thighs, his eyes intent, he darts his tongue out in a double tap on my swollen clit.

  “This what you want?”

  “Yes!”

  He licks me smoothly before thrusting his tongue inside me fully.

  “Troy.” I lift his name, my voice hoarse, the ache consuming me.

  “Perfect,” he whispers before hooking his arms around my thighs and opening me wider. Dire need courses through me just as he lowers his head and pulls in my clit between his lips and sucks. Hand over my mouth, I do my best to muffle my scream as he drinks me, his tongue vibrating as he hums on my pussy. Drunk on his licks, I crest on the wave of my orgasm just as he pushes his fingers inside me, twisting them in beckoning. His palm pins me flat to the bed while he relentlessly eats me until I’m gasping his name over and over. The shockwaves steal my voice as I convulse on his tongue, and he laps it up hungrily. The aftershock is so intense, I shake uncontrollably as he continues with the thrash of his tongue until I’m fighting for reprieve, too sensitive for more. I push at his head in an attempt to close my legs as he keeps me hostage, fucking me with his fingers, sucking my clit as I cry out to him over and over. When I’m spent again, he pulls away, satisfied, the lusty gleam in his eyes all I can see as he wipes his mouth. Lifting to hover above me, he studies me as my breathing evens, stroking my face, my hair, before leaning in to take my lips and kissing me deeply. Reaching between us, I start to unbutton his jeans, and he stops my movement.

  “Not yet. The next time I push inside of you, there won’t be a doubt in your mind about me. Because I want all of it.” He presses warm lips to my chest, where my heart pounds and again to the side of my temple, erasing all doubts of where we stand, ending our discussion.

  “Troy, let me touch you,” I whisper, palming his girth. He pulls my hand from between us and kisses it with the shake of his head before easily hauling us to sit where we have a clear view of Dante. He’s still sleeping soundly as I lay in Troy’s arms just as snow begins to fall.

  “We’ll do it right this time,�
� he murmurs again, pressing another kiss to my temple. “For us, and for him.”

  Ruth’s Beef Brisket

  Bank teller, South Carolina

  Makes 8 servings

  2 hours and 30 minutes

  3 Lb. Boneless Beef Brisket – Well Trimmed

  1/4 Cup Liquid Smoke

  1 Tsp. Onion Salt

  1 Tsp. Garlic Salt

  Salt to Taste

  Smoky Sauce (combine all ingredients and simmer 5 minutes):

  1 Tbsp. Liquid Smoke

  1/2 Cup Ketchup

  1 1/2 Tbsp. Brown Sugar

  1 1/2 Tsp. Dry Mustard

  1/4 Cup Water

  3 Tbsp. Melted Butter

  1 Tsp. Celery Seeds

  Dash of Pepper

  2 Tbsp. Worcestershire Sauce

  Sprinkle brisket with regular salt and place on a large piece of aluminum foil. Set in a shallow pan and pour liquid smoke over meat. Seal foil and refrigerate overnight. Remove brisket from refrigerator. Sprinkle with onion salt and garlic salt. Reseal foil.

  Bake at 300 degrees for 2 hours. Slice thin. Serve with Smoky Sauce.

  Clarissa

  “Mommy wake up! It snowed, and we have to see if Santa came!” Dante exclaims jumping into my bed in the Michigan J. Frog pajamas and matching slippers Troy bought him to wear last night. I groan as he bounces around me with boundless energy. Eyeing the clock, I see I’ve only had a mere hour of sleep.

  For me, Santa most definitely came, and delivered. Troy and I spent the rest of the night on my couch, making out like a couple of teenagers, and even with the lack of sleep, I feel as if I’m floating on air, my feet haven’t touched the ground since he lifted me from the freezing lawn. Dante jumps into my bed, ready with his demands.

  “Hurry up! Hurry up!”

  I pull him to me from where I lay and squeeze. “Merry Christmas, Peanut. Just let me brush my teeth.”

  “Gah, hurry, please!”

  “Morning, bud,” Troy pokes his head into my bedroom and Dante turns to interrogate him.

  “Did you see? Did Santa come?”

  “I think he might have.”

 

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