My balls rested against her ass, and my dick was so fuckin’ snug inside of her that I was finding it hard to breathe.
“God, you feel so good. Like you were made for me,” I panted.
Her eyes were electric, and her breasts were heaving as she tried to breathe through her own arousal.
“I wish we could switch bodies so I could feel…and you could feel,” she teased, her hands lifting up to run up and down my pectorals.
My nipples pebbled as her fingers slowly ran over the little discs, causing her to repeat it over and over again.
I felt my balls start to rise and knew that we didn’t have much longer.
“One day,” I said, pulling out and thrusting back inside. “I’m going to have control when it comes to you.”
She laughed and canted her hips, receiving my cock at a different angle, allowing me to go even deeper.
I pushed out her legs even wider and watched, amazed, at how well she took me.
“Play with your clit,” I ordered. “This sight is too pretty. I’m not going to make it much longer.”
And she did.
But it took her less than three strokes, and then she was coming.
I followed almost instantaneously behind her, the semen in my balls roiling up like an erupting volcano that’d been set to blow for years.
Every single time I took her it was like the first time.
The ripples in her pussy still amazed me. The way her face turned euphoric when she was at the pinnacle of her orgasm drew me in. But it was the way she smiled at me afterward that made me want to stay that way forever.
But eventually we both came down from our highs and my cock started to deflate.
She mirrored my thoughts, though.
“I want to stay this way forever,” she whispered.
I growled and took her mouth in a possessive kiss. “When the time comes that I ask, baby? Say yes and we can repeat this every night for the rest of our lives.”
Chapter 19
The worst part about losing your glasses is that you don’t have your glasses to help you find your glasses.
-Raleigh’s secret thoughts
Raleigh
I was in such a good mood that nothing, not one single thing, was going to make this day bad for me.
Why was I in such a good mood?
It all centered around a certain sexy football coach that had the power to bring a smile to my face even when I felt like a pile of dog poop.
That morning I’d woken up to a horrible headache that I had nobody but myself to blame, and Ezra’s big massive forearm curled around me tight.
It took only moments for memories of the night before to come back to me, and when they did, I felt like I was on top of the moon.
Until I felt the distinct wetness between my thighs that had nothing at all to do with him depositing his release there the night before.
But even then, my period arriving still didn’t put me in a bad mood.
With half-closed eyes, I began soaking my panties in Ezra’s sink—because hello, I was frugal. I didn’t throw panties away even when they deserved to be—I started searching for a toothbrush, finding one quickly in the bottom drawer in a little plastic bag that usually gets sent home when you visit the dentist.
Turning on the shower, I shucked what remained of my clothes and stepped into the spray.
It was blissfully warm, and I nearly moaned as I felt the hot water washing away the smell of sex and other things from the night before.
My hand started to get tired from where I was instinctively holding it up over the spray, so I turned and rested it on the shampoo rack that was toward the back of the shower.
That was when I saw my cast.
Everything inside me froze when I saw all the words that littered the expanse of my arm.
I turned my arm, curling it slightly in, and started to read.
I love you because you’re pretty.
I love you because you make me smile.
I love you because you laugh when I make stupid jokes.
I love you when you giggle.
I love you when you snore.
I love you when you drool.
I love you when you’re crying and not making any sense.
I love you when you drink a bottle of wine to apologize.
Over and over and over, Ezra listed out why he loved me, and by the time I was finished, I was crying.
My head felt like a million tiny jackhammers breaking it open, but I didn’t care.
My shower finished up quickly after that.
I located an emergency tampon out of my purse that I’d thought ahead to bring with me, and then, naked, I lurched for the door.
Opening the bathroom door, I hiccupped slightly as I headed back for his bed.
Still slightly wet, I threw myself at him and giggled through my tears as he yelped when my cold hair slapped against his chest.
“Jesus H Christ,” he hissed, trying to move away from the cold.
I desperately tried to move my hair away from him as I peppered his face with kisses. I didn’t even care that his breath smelled like the bottom of my shoe. This man, with his stinky breath and sleepy eyes, was all mine.
“God, but I love you, Ezra McDuff.”
***
Though my day should’ve been amazing, everything took a turn for the worse during fourth period, and it all centered around one person.
Morgan.
As if Morgan hadn’t suffered enough in his short life, he’d been hit by a drunk driver the night before, and nobody had even realized it until fourth period when the school had called to see why he wasn’t at any of his classes.
That wasn’t like Morgan at all, hence the reason I’d urged the school secretary to give his mother a call to find out where he was, and if he could get to the school by three in the afternoon to make up his test with me.
Though even if he failed the test he’d still pass, but the kid was on the path to making straight As and I didn’t want him to drop that grade any.
I’d just handed out my class’s test, and was setting a timer on my desk when there was a knock on my door.
“All right, class,” I said, looking over the students, pausing when yet again Morgan’s no-show surprised me. “Time starts now. You have fifty minutes.”
Everyone turned their tests over at once and got right to work. Giddy with excitement that summer was right around the corner, I walked to the door with a smile on my face.
That smile widened exponentially when I saw Ezra on the other side.
“Hey!” I called, walking out and closing the door behind me.
I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, but he didn’t squeeze it back.
My smile slowly fell as I got a good look at his face.
“What is it?” I asked, worried now.
He swallowed, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob with the movement.
“Jan’s gonna watch your class for a minute, come with me?” he asked.
I looked over at Jan, the school’s secretary who worked in the front office, and nodded. “Sure.”
We slipped by each other seamlessly, and I fell into step beside Ezra.
He didn’t say a word until we were in the staff breakroom.
“Ezra, what is it?” I asked, worried beyond belief at this point.
He pulled me until I was in his arms, and then he dropped the worst kind of bombshell on me ever.
“Morgan was hit by a drunk driver last night on his way home from a party. The friend, a kid from another school, is dead, and Morgan is in critical condition in the ICU.”
I closed my eyes and started to cry. “No.”
***
Morgan had been pronounced dead four times over the last forty-eight hours.
“He’s going to make it,” I said, so sure that I wasn’t the least bit worried. “He’s going to pull through. This is just ano
ther detour that he has to take, but he’s going to get out of that bed. I know it.”
Ezra wrapped his hand around my neck and pulled me to him. “I know, baby.”
I felt like something was sitting on my chest, and I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to breathe if I took a step out of his embrace. For this reason, I stayed where I was and prayed that I was right. That Morgan really was going to live.
“They said that it was a young kid driving a black truck.”
We both looked up to find Ezra’s nephew standing there. “A big black one that is jacked up with big tires and has green stars on his wheels.”
I frowned. “Do you know him?”
Johnson’s eyes stayed locked on his uncle’s.
That’s when I felt Ezra’s body stiffen as he said, “Mackie has a truck just like that.”
“Really?”
Ezra nodded.
“Really.”
“Well then, call the sheriff and tell him!” I urged.
So Ezra did, but unfortunately, Mackie had a solid alibi and not a single dent on his pretty truck.
Who was his alibi, you ask? Coach Casper.
But the timing was off, the suspicion was there, and everyone was watching.
I should’ve known then that there was something uncomfortably wrong with that picture, but I didn’t.
Chapter 20
Why is it called ‘throat punch Thursday?’ Why can’t it be ‘I can throat punch you no matter what day of the week it is’ day?
-Raleigh to Ezra
Raleigh
Four and a half months later
“How was Morgan?” Ezra asked as he walked in the door to my place—our place.
Ezra had officially moved in last week, and we were now living together like one very happy couple.
“Morgan’s up, moving around, and complaining that he’s ready to get out of the rehab part of the hospital and get home. He says it’s not any better than the actual hospital was.” I laughed. “It was good to see him smiling.”
Ezra groaned and fell onto the couch face first. “That’s good to hear. I wanted to go see him, but I didn’t find time before visiting hours were up.”
We’d done a lot of visiting with Morgan over the last couple of weeks.
Since both Ezra and I had a lot of time on our hands thanks to school letting out, we’d used it to our advantage.
How had we done that?
By moving in together, visiting Morgan, and starting various football and baseball camps for kids of all ages.
Well, I didn’t participate in the football camps. I participated by offering my moral support from the sidelines where I sat under an umbrella in my fancy zero-gravity chair with a cooler of cold Dr. Peppers and munchies.
But I was there, and available to help if I was needed—which ended up being a whole lot more than I thought was needed.
“How was work?” I teased.
Ezra rolled over onto his back.
“After you left you mean?” he questioned.
I nodded. “It reached a hundred and four, and the athletic trainer called practice until the rain cooled it down ten degrees. But then it was so humid it felt like we were in a sauna, and I called practice because I had sweat dripping down my balls.”
I giggled and walked to the kitchen, snatching my phone from the countertop.
“Do you still want to go on a date?” I teased.
He’d promised me that today would be the day that we celebrated our eight-month anniversary—and not the anniversary of us becoming an official couple since we couldn’t actually remember—but when he dropped a box of condoms on my face and finally noticed me.
He’d found the receipt for his wrapping paper when we were moving, and today was officially the day.
“Sure,” Ezra yawned broadly. “I just gotta go take a shower.”
I glanced at him.
He was now leaning against the couch with his head buried between two couch cushions—oh, and his eyes weren’t open.
“Do you want to try that new place on High Road?” I asked about Poison Jacks, the newest bar/pub in town.
Ezra squinted at me for all of two point five seconds before shaking his head. “Nah. That doesn’t look like my type of place.”
I walked over to the back of the couch and leaned my hands on the cushions before leaning over so that our faces were lined up, though upside down.
He blinked open his eyes, and I felt my heart flutter in my chest.
“How about a movie?” I asked softly. “We can rent one on Amazon, and I can order pizza.”
His smile was soft. “Why are you so good to me?”
I bent until our lips were touching, delicately placing a single chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. “Because I love you, Coach McDuff. Even when you smell like sweaty balls.”
Before I could so much as pull away, he had me around the waist and I was flying head over heels onto the couch.
My shriek of surprise had me shaking as laughter started to pour out of me.
Then, I got an up close and personal interaction with his crotch, and he most definitely didn’t smell like sweaty balls. He smelled like sexy man.
And before I knew it, neither one of us was thinking about much of anything but each other.
An hour later, we did indeed end up having pizza and watching a movie, which I guess worked out for us since tomorrow was our first official day back at school.
Ezra had technically been there for the last two weeks when he’d started two-a-days with the football team, but tomorrow would be our first day back as we got our classrooms ready for students.
“I’m not looking forward to tomorrow,” I groaned into his side. “I want to live like this forever.”
He ran his palm up my hip and settled it just underneath my breasts. “Maybe next year.”
I frowned and rolled until my head was resting on his thigh. “Why next year?”
His grin was slow but wide. “Because next year, you’ll be my wife, and I hope to have you knocked up before we’re home from our honeymoon.”
My brows rose. “You have to actually ask me for me to be your wife.”
Ezra’s eyes flicked back up to the screen. “Are you coming to my CrossFit class in the morning, or do you want me to let you sleep?”
I rolled my eyes.
Ezra and CrossFit.
Ezra had a new love affair with the class. And I’m not talking about ‘oh, CrossFit is awesome!’ I’m talking, ‘if I don’t do CrossFit, I might very well die.’
One of his students had urged him to go with him, and that was all it took. He was hooked. He’d started CrossFit at the beginning of the summer, and now, right before the start of the school year, he was planning how to continue doing it with his school schedule.
At first, I’d gone with him purely out of curiosity.
Now, I knew better than to think that CrossFit was for me. It wasn’t a joke, and honestly, I’d rather just stick to my occasional walk around the neighborhood.
After dropping a fifteen-pound wall ball on my face instead of catching it, and trailing blood all over the gym on the way to the bathroom like a murder victim, I’d come to the conclusion that things were just better when I didn’t participate in extreme sports.
But then he’d made me go a second time…and let’s just say that hadn’t been the best idea ever.
***
One month ago
“Come on,” Ezra urged. “Tomorrow is a partner WOD.”
I blinked. “What’s a WOD?”
“Workout of day,” he explained the acronym as if it was perfectly normal to shorten everything one was saying so that normal, non-CrossFitters, didn’t understand half of what was being said. “And I promise, I would not make you come to this if it was hard.”
I thought about my bloody nose this morning and cringed. “I’ll go if you don’t make me go to that same class t
ime. Everybody in there has already messaged me on Facebook asking how my face is. I don’t think I could handle seeing them again so soon. At least if I go to a different class, they might think that you abuse me instead of me abusing myself.”
Ezra rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Seriously? You’d rather someone think that I beat you instead of them thinking that you’re a clumsy person?”
My laugh was my answer as I’d gone to bed that night, and now, staring at the workout on the whiteboard, I wondered what I’d gotten myself in to.
“Who is Diane?” I wondered aloud.
“Diane is the name of the workout,” Ezra murmured, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the coach explain what we’d be doing today.
“We’re going to do…” That’s about when I zoned out. The sheer amount of work he was wanting me to do was flabbergasting.
“You want me to do handstand push-ups?” I asked in surprise.
He looked at me like I was cute—the coach, not Ezra. Ezra looked at me like I was his.
“Yes,” the coach, who also happened to be the school resource officer, said. “Honestly, I’d like you to give the handstand push-ups at least a try. I don’t expect you to do them all. Heck, I don’t expect you to do any. But how will you know if you can even do one if you don’t at least try?”
That was true.
I wouldn’t know if I didn’t try.
But…I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be able to do it. I could barely bend over and shave my legs without getting out of breath. How did he expect me to do a handstand push-up?
“You’re adorable,” Flint laughed. “I swear, I can see every emotion cross over your face. I like you, girl.”
The coach was the biggest man I’d ever seen. He was a tanned-skinned hottie that had a buzzed head, a bright white smile, and eyes the color of warm chocolate. I swear he and Ezra had a love affair going when I wasn’t around.
Ezra talked about him constantly, and vice versa. Flint had been to a few practices, helping the kids with strength training, and we’d even gone out to eat with Flint and his flavor of the month.
Apparently, this gym was a family to them, and that family included hanging out with them outside of gym hours.
How Ezra was supposed to find time was beyond me. He had two-a-day practices coming up, baseball and football camps, and let’s not forget about the fact that he still had to eat at some point in there.
Hissy Fit Page 17
