Page 173 of Hometown Halftime

I barely give us time to recover before my hips move again, fast and desperate now, every thrust is messy with weeks of frustration and the relief of finally getting her back beneath me. The bed slams softly against the wall while Kinsey pulls me down into another frantic kiss, both of us breathing unevenly between whispered curses and half-finished I love you's.

Everything about this feels reckless in the best possible way. There’s no careful pacing left between us or attempts to stay composed. It’s just me and Kinsey getting our hands back on each other after pretending for far too long that we could survive being apart.

“You feel so fucking good,” I manage roughly against her ear.

She licks her lips. “Can you come? I’m so close.”

“Fuck yes, I can.”

I drive into her at a feverish pace as her pussy tightens around me. Just as I feel my orgasm approaching, her back arches and she calls out my name. I scramble to pull out and as soon as my hand wraps around my cock, I come, painting the skin of her stomach.

She looks down. “Holy fuck that’s hot.”

I guide the tip of my dick through my cum, smearing it across her skin.

“This was dangerous, Kitten. Now I want to know what my cum looks like on every part of your body.”

Kinsey shakes the bed with her laughter.

“Well, we’ll have lots of time to find out.”

I head to the bathroom and get a warm, wet washcloth to clean her skin. Then I slide under the sheets next to her and Kinsey curls against my side while my arm wraps around her, pulling her closer. I press my mouth against her hair while her fingers drift lazily across the kitten tattoo on my arm.

“You got a tattoo for me,” she whispers.

A laugh rumbles through my chest.

“Yeah.” I exhale. “Turns out I do crazy things when I’m in love.”

Chapter sixty-nine

Riley

My mom’s house has never been filled with this many people before.

Familiar voices overlap from the living room while the smell of wings and pizza hangs in the air, and every person who matters most to me is packed beneath this roof waiting to see what happens next. Even Poppy made it home for the draft.

And right in the middle of all the mayhem sits a camera crew from the Professional Football League documenting potential draft reactions.

No pressure or anything.

Leaning against the counter, my phone vibrates in my pocket. My heart stops beating for one scary moment. Coach said to keep my phone by my side for any calls so this could mean anything.

Sliding it out of my pocket I look down to see my dad’s name on the screen.

Disappointment washes through me as I stare at it. I contemplate answering it, but I don’t. This night is about my future, not my past. A few months ago, that phone call would've been enough to ruin my entire night. Not anymore. So, I decline the call and set it on the counter. Letting out a heavy breath, I tell myself I did the right thing.

I stand alone in the kitchen gripping a bottle of water so tightly it’s probably one squeeze away from exploding while my stomach slowly tries to kill me from the inside out.

Because this is it, everything comes down to tonight.

The television in the living room drones through the house while analysts continue breaking down the top draft prospects. Roanoke has the second pick, and according to every sports channel in existence, they’re expected to take some quarterback from Idaho Rivers University.

Nerves twist harder in my stomach the longer the coverage drags on, but before I can spiral any further, footsteps sound behind me. I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Kinsey. Her arms slide around my waist from behind me while her cheek settles gently between my shoulder blades, and the tight pressure inside me eases a little.

“Hey.”

I exhale slowly. “Hey.”