“Get down here now, little one,” Tristan calls out.
As if my legs have a will of their own, I stand up from the bleachers and start walking down the stairs toward the sidelines. When I’m only a few steps from the field, he scoops me up in his arms and starts twirling me around. He presses kisses on my face. With our bodies pressed together, the world falls away for a moment. It’s just us, our hearts pounding against one another.
“Victory makes me a little crazy,” he whispers in my ear. “I might be a little handsy when I take you home tonight.”
The warmth in my belly turns to fire. “That’s alright,” I say, hardly believing my tongue.
Victory must make me crazy too.
His lips find mine, and suddenly, we’re lost in a passionate kiss that ignites a wildfire within me. With the heat of his body against mine, and the roughness of his hands on my back, I’m not sure I’ve ever been more turned on in my life.
“Don’t you have to celebrate with your teammates?” I ask.
He laughs, a deep rumble of a sound. “They’ll forgive me. Who would even think of celebrating with them when I have you?”
He kisses me hard before setting me down on my feet. “Alright,” he says, “It’ll take me two minutes to shower.” Hetouches the bottom of my jaw and lifts my chin. “Don’t dare go anywhere.”
My belly turns to fire. I love it when he orders me around. “I won’t.”
It’s a shame that I won’t get to experience his domination for more than a single night.
Looks like I’ll have to make the most of my revenge sex when the time finally comes.
Tristan
She smiles as she sips her soda, making slurping sounds because she reached the bottom of it a while ago. We’ve been sitting here in my car for nearly an hour now, and I’m not ready to let her walk up to that dorm.
Not if I can’t come in with her, at least.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asks, looking so adorably shy I want to cradle her in my arms. She’s rarely timid with me. Usually only when I’m touching her.
I set my hand on her thigh, and it takes everything within me not to trail my fingers upward. I don’t want to spook her.
“Anything,” I say.
“Did you really never let Harper wear your jersey?”
I try to manage a lazy grin, even though my heart is pounding in my chest. It was a stupid rule I set with Harper. An excuse I invented mostly because I knew she would see wearing my jersey as a sign that she owns me.
Yet a part of me knows that wasn’t the only reason.
I only wanted one girl to wear my jersey, and until I won her, I didn’t want to see it on anyone else.
“Yeah, I told her I’d only let my future wife wear it.” I laugh, but it feels forced out of my throat.
Amy frowns. “That’s kind of mean. Even if you were teasing, it probably didn’t make her feel great as your girlfriend.”
I shrug. “You know how Harper is. She wants you to prove that you care about her. It used to annoy me. Being her boyfriend should have been enough.”
“I don’t agree. When you care about someone, you should be willing to give them the little things that mean a lot to them. Even if they’re stupid to you.”
My skin heats. “Why are you defending Harper?”
I can’t stand it when she does this. Sometimes it seems like she’s jealous of Harper, and other times, it’s like she’s trying to improve the relationship I have with her former friend.
No. I’m making progress with her. That kiss on the field today was like nothing I’ve ever had from her before. She melted into me, hummed when I nuzzled her neck, and she seemed disappointed when I finally set her down.
“It’s not Harper, really,” she says. “It would be true of any partner you had. I think you’re a bad boyfriend.”
