Which is why tonight, I want to do something for him. I sit up and take his cock in my hand. With a firm grip, I stroke him from root to tip, relishing the feel of his silky skin against my palm. Austin’s eyelids droop and he sighs. The sound is rough and jagged and full of unspoken need.
My body clenches in response, urging me on. There’s a bead of moisture on the head of his cock and I lick it off, my tongue darting out to tease the unflappable QB. He throws his head back and groans, sending a thrill up my spine.
There’s something empowering about having this hulk of a man surrender to my touch, giving up control in exchange for the pleasure I offer. It feels…right. And I know that when the time comes, my own orgasm will be explosive, so I take him in my mouth, working him with my tongue as he tangles his fingers in my hair, guiding me. I lose myself in Austin, licking and sucking and teasing as he chants my name like a prayer.
“Fuuuck.” He abruptly pulls me to my feet.
Shit. Did I do something wrong?
But no, he’s reaching for my tank top, dragging it over my head and freeing my breasts. He cups them in his large palms, stroking lazy circles around my hardened nipples as I shimmy out of my shorts. When I stand naked before him, he rolls on a condom and tugs me down on the couch so I’m straddling him.
His normally bright eyes are dark with lust, and when he looks at me like there’s no one else who could make him feel this way, I can’t deny the swell of pride that expands in my chest. I’ve done this to him. Brought him to the edge of madness with my touch.
He strokes my cheek, the calloused pads of his fingers a sharp contrast to my own soft skin. “I need to come inside you. I want to feel you come on my dick.”
He doesn’t have to ask twice. I lower myself without hesitation, moaning as Austin is fully seated, filling me completely. We move in unison, our sweat-slick bodies coming together as we push one another higher and higher, soaring toward release. When I feel his body tense under mine, his hips bucking off the couch as though he’s lost all sense of control, I fly over the edge with him, my own orgasm spiraling through me with such intensity I cry out his name before his lips clamp over mine.
The kiss is deep and sweaty and utterly perfect.
When we finally break apart, I climb to my feet on shaky legs. I gather my clothes and get dressed as Austin does the same. When he’s finished, he grabs the remote and flops down on the couch, arm draped across the back. He’s sitting in my spot, but that’s not the problem.
“What are you doing?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. He looks way too comfortable on my couch.
He shrugs. “It’s early. I figured we could watch a movie if you’re up for it?”
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. Aren’t hookups supposed to, I don’t know,leaveafterward? This is new territory for us, but… It is early and Becca’s gone for the weekend. Besides, it’s not like he’s planning to sleep over. Probably I’m making a big deal out of nothing.
“Relax.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch. “It’s not like we’re going to watchThe Notebookand talk about our feelings.” The color drains from his face and his eyes go wide. The guy’s faced down three-hundred-pound linemen, but it’s the first time I’ve seen real fear in his eyes. “Are we?”
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing, doubling over as the laughter shakes my body from the inside out. The look on his face is priceless. I’m half tempted to grab the DVD from Becca’s room just to see what he’ll do, but in the end, I take pity on him. After all, he did just wring the tension from my body with that gifted cock of his.
We agree on a Ryan Reynolds action flick neither of us has seen, but halfway through the movie Austin starts massaging my thigh. His fingers march north, kneading the muscles just below the hem of my tiny shorts. A ripple of desire pulses through me, and I forget all about the movie.
Hell, I forget my own name when his roving hand snakes under my shirt, the rough pads of his fingers gliding over my belly, tracing a path to the hardened nipples that strain against my tank top. Then his lips are moving over mine, the firm weight of his body descending on me with such perfection I give myself over to him with total abandon, letting him set the pace for the pleasure I know will follow. Because his mouth, his hands, his body? They’re exquisite. As if they were made for pleasure. As if they were made just for me.
And that kind of perfection? It won’t be easy to give up at the end of the season.
33
AUSTIN
Something’s up.I feel it the instant I step onto the practice field. It’s deadly quiet. No jokes. No complaints. No warm-ups. Coach glares at us as we take the field—eyes narrow, brows flat—like he’s just waiting to unleash the beast. The rest of the coaching staff stands behind him, arms crossed, faces blank, as we line up, forming a loose semi-circle. The day is cold and gray, the sun nonexistent. Perfect for a good ass chewing. The only question is whether it’ll be worse than the tongue lashing we got after Spellman busted his leg.
Fuck. Did he hear about the recruits getting wasted?
Fear grips my chest like a vise. That would definitely be a whole other level of shit. One we can’t afford with the Badgers on the schedule this week. They’re playing well and we need our best guys on the field.
We also need them focused on the game.
I take my place at the front of the group, Coop at my side, and resist the urge to look at Johnson. Whatever’s coming, we’re all in it together. Otherwise, Coach would’ve called the offenders into his office. No. Whatever he’s got to say, it’s for the whole team. A bead of sweat trickles down my right temple despite the October chill.
Kennedy catches my eye and lifts a brow, but I don’t acknowledge her. Not even to give the slightest shake of my head. Coach’s red-hot glare is fixed on me, and for now, that’s where it needs to stay. Just another perk of being captain.
Coach grunts and the mass of tension-filled bodies surrounding me stand up even straighter. “Imagine my surprise when I got a call from campus PD,” Coach says, each word landing like a blow to my solar plexus, “informing me that a few of my guys were caught tussling with the baseball team Saturday night.”
A murmur of surprise rises from the back of the group. Proof that word of the scene with McCoy and his boys hasn’t spread far and wide…yet. Heart racing, I will Johnson to keep his mouth shut as Coach’s gaze swings his way. Lucky for Johnson it doesn’t hold. Coach’s eyes pivot, slamming into me with the force of a defensive end.
“You were supposed to be babysitting recruits, so what the fuck were y’all doing messing with the baseball team?” he demands. I bite my tongue, hoping it’s a rhetorical question. “Well?”
