The Keeping Score Box Set

by Tawdra Kandle

  “This—” I fisted the jersey. “It’s fucking hot, babe. Seeing you in my jersey makes me so hard.”

  “I noticed.” Her hand insinuated itself between us to circle my shaft over the boxers.

  “Ah.” I took a deep breath. Focus, dude. Blowing your wad the first time she touches you is so not cool. “Yeah. But it needs to come off now, because it’s in my fucking way.”

  “Okay.” Quinn crossed her arms in front of her and pulled off the jersey over her head, tossing it to the floor. “Better?”

  I pushed her gently back down onto the mattress, knelt between her spread legs and dropped my mouth to her breasts again. “So. Much. Better.”

  Quinn threaded her fingers through my hair. “I don’t think there’s anything hotter than your mouth on my boobs. God, you make me feel so good.”

  I lifted my chin a little to smirk up at her. “Oh, there might be something hotter.” I skimmed my lips down the smooth skin of her stomach, pausing when I reached her belly button. “This right here, babe. The sexiest fucking thing ever. The night you sent me the picture of this and told me about getting it . . . I didn’t get much sleep. I seriously considered flying out the next day.”

  “I got it for me . . . to prove I could . . . but the whole time, I was thinking of you and what you’d think of it.” She raised her head and offered me a half-smile. “Glad it meets your approval.”

  “Maybe I should just show you what I think.” So saying, I sucked the small ring into my mouth, tracing the rim of her navel with my tongue. When her hips arched in response, I trailed one hand down between her legs and parted her folds with my finger.

  She was so wet, so responsive, that it took everything I had not to rip off my boxers and take her in one swift stroke. I swallowed hard, gave her belly button ring one more hard swipe and then took my mouth lower.

  Quinn was almost sobbing as I kissed her sweet pussy. She surged up against me, giving little guttural cries that told me she was about to explode. It had been a long time for both of us, and my girl was about ready to go off like a firecracker. I pressed my tongue to her clit and plunged two fingers into her at the same time, and she rocketed off the bed, her moan long and loud and maybe the sexiest fucking thing I’d ever heard. I kept up, pumping my fingers and sucking as the orgasm ripped through her.

  When she collapsed into the mattress, boneless, I worked my way back up to her mouth, kissing, licking and sucking as the situation and body part called for. I was trying not to rush, but holy fuck, my cock was aching. The need pounded in my head until I couldn’t hear anything else or think of any other option.

  Take her. Now.

  I paused long enough to kiss her hard on the mouth, rewarded by her low “Mmmmmmm . . .” I struggled to get off my boxers, desperate to have nothing at all between us.

  Quinn helped me ease them down, her hand pausing to squeeze my ass, which was really much appreciated but not exactly where I wanted her attention. She knew what she was doing, though; my girl had always known exactly what I needed, almost before I did, and her fingers closed over my dick, working me up and down with occasional forays to swipe her thumb over the leaking head.

  “Can I use my mouth?” She rained kisses down my neck to my chest.

  I shook my head. “Not now. Even thinking about your lips on my cock is dangerous territory at the moment, babe. I just want to be inside you. I want to come deep in you, and I want you to come again, with me. Save that talented tongue for next time.”

  She smiled, raking her nails lightly against my shaft. “I’m considering that a binding promise.”

  I laughed, but it sounded a little desperate even to my own ears. “Definitely, baby.” I slid down a little, so that my throbbing erection lined up to her swollen, slick center. “Mia, I want to tell you again—I haven’t been with anyone since we were together. But I’ll wear a condom if it makes you feel better. I just wanted you to know.”

  Quinn shook her head. “I trust you. I haven’t, either, and I’m still on birth control.” She rubbed the head of my cock against her pussy. “I want you. All of you, with nothing between us.”

  I couldn’t have waited any longer, even if the world had been ending and crashing down around us. I thrust into her, nothing gentle or tentative, sliding home until I had filled her completely. I stayed completely still for the space of several heartbeats, letting myself feel the perfection of this moment.

  And then Quinn canted her hips, changing the angle of our connection, and raised her legs to lock around my hips. Just like that, I was gone. There was no finesse, no polish; I gave a loud, primitive cry and began plunging into her, holding myself above her body as we both surrendered to the desire we couldn’t—and didn’t want to—deny.

  “Love you, Mia—love you so much.” I was close, so close, and about to lose it. Through sheer force of will, I held back until I felt her tightening around my cock and heard her breath began coming in soft pants.

  Only then did I give one final, hard thrust, roaring in mindless, nameless and endless pleasure as I spilled myself into her, feeling my girl hurtling along that path with me. We soared, loving and giving and taking all at once, until we were both lying flat on the bed, gasping to catch our breaths, even as our hands continued to reach for each other.

  Without opening my eyes, I pulled her to me, pressing her cheek to my damp chest and somehow finding the energy to bend my neck and kiss the top of her head.

  “Your heart is racing.” I could feel the movement of her lips on my skin as she murmured. “This heartbeat . . . it’s the most beautiful sound in the world.” Her fingers brushed over me.

  “It only beats for you, Mia.” I whispered the words just before exhaustion and sleep overtook me. “Only ever for you, for now and for always.”

  God Only Knows by Natalie Maines

  “I never knew it got so cold down south.” Lisa Taylor wrapped her scarf a little more securely around her face. “I’m glad I remembered my gloves.”

  On the other side of me, her husband leaned over. “Well, it is December, Lisa. You can’t expect beach weather. Virginia isn’t that far south.”

  I bit my lip and tried not to laugh. Leo’s parents had been down here for the last three days, visiting on what Joe called a ‘pre-wedding mini-vacation’ and what Lisa referred to as ‘Joe’s attempt to keep me from killing people’. Although they never really argued, they sniped at each other all the time, which made it less than fun to be around them. Apparently, being the parents of the groom was almost as stressful as being the bride’s family. Simon had called us last week, griping about the tensions between Justine’s parents and his own.

  “You’ve got to take them off my hands for a little while, Leo. Please, I’m begging you.” Neither of us had ever heard Simon sound so desperate. “All of them—Mom, Dad, and Justine’s folks—they’re making Justine crazy. She’s on the verge of a breakdown.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” Leo had given me wide eyes over the phone between us. He’d put Simon on speaker at his request.

  “You have no idea. Listen, let me give you both some big brotherly advice. Elope. Save yourselves and everyone else a lot of stress. Just go away to get married.”

  “We’ll take that into consideration.” I’d cocked an eyebrow at Leo, who’d shaken his head.

  “They’re coming down next weekend anyway. I’ll do you a solid and suggest they make it a week, okay? Will that help you out?”

  “You’ll have my eternal gratitude. I might even name our firstborn after you.”

  I hadn’t worried about the Taylors visiting. I loved these two like they were my own parents, and I was never uncomfortable with them. But that was before I’d realized that they were at each other’s throats just now, thanks to Lisa’s anxiety over her oldest son’s impending nuptials.

  Leo had escaped today by claiming that he had to be at the stadium extra early for a meeting. When I’d fastened him with a skeptical glare, he’d just shrugged innocently
.

  “What, babe? You know this is my job. My career. I have to take it seriously.” His teasing wink gave him away, and I managed to forgive him for his defection when he suggested that I take him to the stadium, so that we didn’t have so many cars there after the game. The drive there and back bought me at least forty-five minutes of relative peace. And the extra fifteen minutes we spent making out in the car, in the parking lot outside the stadium? That was just yummy icing on the cake.

  We actually had a bunch of guests in town this weekend, and although I was enjoying the chance to visit, I wasn’t going to be unhappy when they all went home, either. Simon and Justine’s wedding was just a few days after Christmas, and the Rebels had a home game on Christmas Day. Since the game made it nearly impossible for us to make it to our parents’ homes for the actual day, Leo had suggested that we follow through on the idea we’d joked about after Nate’s funeral: instead of going back to New Jersey for the holiday itself, we were hosting a celebration down here for our friends. Zelda, Tucker, and Gia had signed on without hesitation, and Leo had invited his college buddy Tate Durham to join us, too.

  In addition, several of the Rebels who were in the same boat that we were planned to come over that night for dinner. Leo and I were both excited about the prospect of hosting our first real social event as a couple.

  But the Taylors and my mom had been a little dismayed that their chicks wouldn’t all be back in the nest for Christmas. That’s when this little pre-Christmas visit had been planned. Lisa and Joe were staying with us, in the guest bedroom of the townhouse, and my mother and Shane the dry cleaner had a room at a hotel in town. I was working hard not to think about the fact that they were sharing one room. Even though I knew they’d spent six weeks together in Europe over the summer, the thought of my mom hooking up with anyone—even Shane, who’d turned out to be a pretty nice guy—still creeped me out.

  The whole crew was here today at the stadium for the Rebels’ game, taking up nearly an entire row between the Taylors, my mother and Shane, and me. We were playing New York, and the guys were pumped. The team was thirteen and one; a spot in the playoffs seemed like a very good possibility. No one talked about it too much, because we were all a superstitious lot, but the press didn’t have the same qualms.

  The idea of the playoffs was even sweeter for me, because Leo had been playing some amazing football in the past four months. He’d started in all but one game, and his percentages were climbing. He’d even scored his first touchdowns as a pro—one was a completion in the end zone, while another had been an eighteen-yard run after a completed pass. We’d celebrated both in the best way we knew how: champagne in bed and me in Leo’s jersey.

  These were good days.

  Not every day was perfect. We were still working out the kinks, as Leo said, learning how to live with each other, remembering to leave the past behind us and focus on each other. I’d realized that part of Leo still worried that if the media attention became too much, I might run again. Each time a story about Richmond’s promising second-year receiver hit the wires, he tensed. I’d learned that the best way to reassure him was with lots of attention and sex.

  I called it a win-win situation.

  In all honesty, the press attention wasn’t an issue for me anymore. I didn’t know if it was because I felt secure that Leo would always support me, that he loved to show me off and never tried to hide the fact that we were engaged, or if I’d grown up enough to know that this was an aspect of the game. Football was an important part of the man I loved, and I would have no sooner taken it from him than I would’ve cut off his arm.

  Of course, I was now a part of the sports press. My job with Marla Smith’s organization was challenging and exciting, and it gave me insight into Leo’s career and into the game of football. I’d done several stories that had made it to the website, although Marla was very selective about what went up. My most popular reports so far had been my profile of Kara Crocker, which we also used to promote the Crockers’ book, and a fun story about single football players that showed a different side of the glamorous, playboy lifestyle so many people believed they led.

  Marla had approached me about writing a regular column that described my experiences as I joined the world of football wives. Although Leo had readily agreed to the idea, I was still hesitating. Writing about others in this world was one thing, but opening up our privates lives felt as though it might be crossing a line. We treasured our privacy and guarded it jealously. The media around Richmond tended to be low-key and positive about the Rebels, and Leo and I weren’t often on their radar, although the local papers and television station had all run short reports on our engagement. I wanted to keep things that way as long as I could.

  My adjustment to this new life was easier since Ellie and I had become such fast friends. She’d loved showing me around Richmond and guiding me through the earliest days of being a football fiancée. We’d enjoyed tweaking things in the townhouse to make them more my style, and of course, being an event planner, she was all over helping me plan the wedding that was tentatively scheduled for next summer, between spring mini-camp and the preseason.

  No, football wasn’t at all the issue that Leo had worried it might be. I knew that was a relief to both of us.

  I still had some sad days. There were times when I missed Nate with a sharpness that took me by surprise. At first, I’d tried to hide that from Leo, not wanting him to misunderstand my feelings, but a few snippy arguments followed by honest discussion had cured me of doing that. Now, when I wanted to talk about Nate, I did. To my surprise, he’d admitted missing our friend, too, and every once in a while, Leo was the one who brought up a memory.

  I’d had a long talk with Mark and Sheri before I’d officially moved in with Leo. They were both understanding and unsurprised, and they thanked me for taking their feelings into consideration. They’d put their house up for sale and were considering a move down to Florida. It made me sad to think that pretty soon, two of the houses I’d considered home while growing up would be owned by strangers. I’d threatened Lisa and Joe that if they even thought about selling their house, I’d never speak to them again.

  Leo and I had made plans to spend New Years’ Eve with all of our parents down at the shore. We wanted to be together on the first anniversary of Nate’s passing, and I had a hunch Mark and Sheri were relieved that they wouldn’t be alone.

  “There’s my boy!” Joe clapped his hands and whistled as the Rebels took the field for their first possession in the second half. We were up by two field goals, but with a team like New York, that wasn’t quite a comfortable margin.

  “I told him we wanted to see him score today.” Lisa nudged me. “Both times, it’s happened when we weren’t at the game. It’s starting to give me a complex.”

  I laughed. “I missed one of them, since it was on the road. So don’t take it personally.”

  Down on the field, the center snapped the ball into Gideon’s hands. The quarterback stutter-stepped backwards, looking for an open receiver and then fired a pass downfield to a wide receiver, who caught the ball and took off. The crowd jumped to its collective feet, cheering him on.

  He made it to the twenty-eight-yard line before he was forced out of bounds by a New York player. We sat back down as the chains moved, and Joe patted my back.

  “This is going to be it, this next play. You watch. I’ve got a feeling. Lisa, I think you’re going to get your wish on this one. And if you do, if Leo scores, I’m taking all of us out for a steak dinner after the game.”

  My mother laughed. “Joe, you already offered to treat for dinner, earlier today. What makes this special?”

  “I said steak, Carrie. And I’ll toss in a couple of bottles of wine, and maybe even cigars and brandy for Leo, Shane and me.”

  “Sexist, much?” Lisa muttered as the teams lined up again. Her fingers were gripping our shared armrest tightly, and her nerves must’ve been contagious, as my stomach jumped a little when the
whistle blew.

  It wasn’t much different than the previous play, actually. Gideon shuffled in the pocket, his eyes darting left and then to the right. I saw a New York defensive end gunning for our QB, but Corey Iverson got there in time to buy Gideon a few more seconds. Leo was downfield, and I caught my breath when I realized he was wide open.

  Gideon must have seen that around the same time I did—or maybe it just seemed that way—because his arm went back and the ball flew through the air. Leo jumped, reaching, and made a beautiful catch.

  “YES! Yes, yes! GO!” Joe was screaming. Lisa was grasping at my arm in a death vice, biting her lip.

  Leo pivoted and sprinted toward the end zone. He’d just crossed the goal line—accompanied by a piercing scream of delight that came from his mom—when a New York cornerback ploughed into him, knocking him to the ground in an inadvertent late hit. Leo held onto the ball as though his life depended on it, even after the whistle signaled the end of the play.

  The Rebels’ cannon fired, and celebratory music erupted from the PA system. Lisa smothered me in a bear hug, and Joe was giving high-fives to anyone who’d hold up a hand. But in front of me, Ellie was leaning forward, and when she turned her head, her eyes were troubled.

  “Corey?” I searched for his number, worried that he’d taken a hit I hadn’t seen or gotten hurt in that last tackle. But no, there he was, trotting toward the end zone . . . where a couple of Rebels and even two New York players were kneeling next to a prone body.

  The refs were there, too, waving to the Richmond sideline, and the coach and someone else I didn’t recognize—was that Steve, the team’s trainer?—jogged over.

  My heart, which had been thumping in joy a few minutes before, now came to a sickening, thudding stop. That was Leo. It was his body sprawled over the green grass, and he wasn’t moving.