Drew:Were you planning to come to practice today?
I look at the time on my phone. I’m almost a half an hour late to practice and that never happens. Shit, I hope they don’t think I’m avoiding them after that disaster of a press conference.
Me:Yeah, I’ll be there in a few. Lost track of time.
Drew:We’re starting without you.
Me:See you on the field.
He doesn’t answer back. I grab my gym bag and head out, putting my phone on silent. If Harper does answer me, I can’t let it be a distraction. I need to concentrate on practice right now. Thoughts of making her come can wait.
My teammates aren’t happy about that asshole reporter bringing up the linebacker getting around me on that one play. They feel like the press forgot about the good things everyone else did just to be able to get one over on me and push questions about my retirement.
I reiterate once again that I’m playing through the season. Now these people have my teammates doubting me too? I can’t fucking believe this. I do my best to get them to focus on practice with me instead of what the press might say next.
All the while, I can’t get Harper out of my head. I put my phone on silent, and now it’s in my locker. Although that doesn’t stop me from thinking about the pulsing between her legs when I kissed her and all the ways I could see how our bodies would fit together so perfectly.
This game has been my whole life for so many years. I played in high school, college, and on this team for my entire adult life so far. I know I’m slipping up. Yet I can’t imagine turning my back on these guys, on this life, to do something else.
I may be heading past my prime for professional football, but I still have a good sixty or seventy years left on this earth. That’s a long time to do nothing at all. It makes me think of Harper all over again. Yeah, I want to fuck her. That’s not all this is, though.
Harper is someone I can talk to about anything. I’ve seen her at parties and she’s so personable with everyone. Until yesterday, I would’ve gone on believing that her talking to me was her doing her job to entertain people. I know it’s more than that after kissing her. I feel like she’s someone I could fall for. Hard.
Hell, I might already be falling for her.
How do I do that without scaring her off?
Chapter 8
Harper
I sent Taylor a text earlier, and he seems cool with meeting up again. However, I’m still not ready to believe that he really wants to take things further than just acquaintances. I felt his dick hard against the tiny barrier of my leggings. Now all I can think about is his mouth on mine and how much I regret letting that all stop just because we were in a parking lot. I should have pulled him into the car right there.
He isn’t answering me anymore, and, logically, I know he’s probably at practice. In my anxious brain, I start to convince myself that he’s not answering because he doesn’t really want me. I have to get some of this pent-up energy out of me, and I know a rubber Taylor that will never say no to me.
I warm up the water in the shower and climb in to let it wash over me. I run my hands down my chest, over my breasts,and down my torso. The water hits my pebbled nipples as my fingers slip inside my pussy. I know I’m wet, even with the water washing it all away. I think about that kiss, about his tongue in my mouth and how much I want to feel it licking me where my fingers are right now.
I stroke upwards with two fingers now, feeling the pressure against my walls, imagining Taylor’s dick getting hard against me. When my stroke makes it up to my clit, my breath is shuddering. I need my trusty Eighty-Five inside me. Now. Why the fuck didn’t I bring it into the bathroom with me?
The towel scratching on my skin is almost unbearable. Every touch is sending me into a frenzy, but I know it’ll be so much better if I save it for the main course. Then there’s a knock on the door. I can’t fucking believe it. I’m not expecting anyone, and I’m about to ignore it when I hear his voice.
“Harper? Are you home?” The knock sounds again.
This is insane. How is he here right now when I’m about to put his vibrating counterpart into my now throbbing pussy. His voice isn’t making things any better. I can’t see him like this. I start tip-toeing to my bedroom, and my stupid ass trips on the carpet and I make a loud noise when I go down.
“Harper, was that you? Are you okay?” Now he’s jiggling the doorknob.
I sigh, realizing that ignoring him won’t work. I tighten the towel around my chest and head to the door. When I open it, hisbreath hitches in, and his eyes go wide. He doesn’t say a word as he shuts the door with his foot, then reaches back to lock it.
His eyes soften, but I still see the hunger. It matches mine, and I know what’s about to happen, though I can’t believe it’s real. He has me up against the wall in seconds, his mouth on mine like we’d never stopped back in that parking lot. He devours me, his lips moving down my neck.
I’m unbuttoning his shirt, and my towel has already fallen. His lips are on my nipple, his fingers inside me stroking far more aggressively than I’d been doing in the shower. I feel my juices dripping down my leg as I pull his shirt off his shoulders and go for the button on his pants.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I talked Tyler’s fiancée into giving me your address,” he says while I struggle with that fucking button.
“Just don’t fucking stop, Taylor. This time, don’t stop,” I beg, and I silently thank my best friend for giving him my address to send him here.
He takes over with the button on his pants, and in seconds I can feel him hard against me, this time with nothing between us. I reach down and stroke him, spurred on by his moan when I do. His fingers are still inside me, pumping harder and harder until they’re not. I feel the absence of him, and I immediately ache to be filled up again.
