Jock Rule

by Ney, Sara

  Mariah hasn’t been able to get her grades up and will probably be transferring to community college.

  The two of them couldn’t have grown apart any more than they have and it’s put a huge strain on their friendship, so Teddy would have moved out anyway.

  She is always at my place anyway.

  My parents totally support her moving in, and Teddy’s mom has been awesome too, glad her daughter will be struggling a lot less.

  “Do you know what your sister sent me?”

  Shit. My sister is becoming worse than my mother, sending ridiculous gifts, notes, and stupid shit Teddy is never going to use. Like inappropriate stationary, T-shirts with quotes on them, and gold bracelets—with profanity.

  “Do I really want to know?”

  “Actually, I think you do.” She slowly lifts the hem of a pink shirt that says Spread kindness like confetti. Out peeks a bit of red lace that covers her entire stomach.

  “Uh…what is that?”

  “It’s a teddy.” She laughs. “Get it?”

  Yes, I get it.

  “My sister sent you lingerie? What the hell is wrong with her?”

  “It’s a teddy, Kip. A teddy?” She stares at me, waiting for it to sink in, but I’m slow. “Surely you haven’t been knocked on the head that much.”

  She goes for the fly of her jeans, unbuttoning them slowly, then pushes the denim down her slim hips. Turns and heads toward the stairs, red lace thong nestled neatly between two very sexy ass cheeks.

  A teddy.

  “Oohhh…”

  She shoots me a wink over her shoulder, hips swaying, palm sliding up the shiny bannister. Long hair swishing across her shoulders with every movement.

  When she reaches the top, she turns, lifting the T-shirt and pulling it all the way off.

  “Holy shit.”

  I waste no time, taking the stairs two at a time, and my girlfriend squeals, racing for the bedroom.

  She’s on top of the bed, on her knees by the time I get there, both of us out of breath and laughing.

  “You are so slow,” she jokes. “And I don’t mean how long it took you to get up here.”

  “My sister is a pervert, sending you underwear.”

  She runs a finger along one of the satin straps, toying with me. “I think it’s clever.”

  “Still, she shouldn’t be sending my girlfriend skimpy shit.” I sound like a disgruntled toddler.

  “Really Kip? You choose now to turn into a prude?”

  “My family is so far up our asses I can’t even see straight anymore.”

  “Stop pouting and come kiss me.”

  Climbing up onto the bed, I’m on my knees too, hands sliding up her bare arms to her shoulders. I hook my thumbs under the strap of the lingerie, tugging it down.

  Palm her breasts, the pads of my fingers gently rolling over her firm nipples.

  “I think I’m ready,” she moans, head tipping back.

  I kiss the tender skin there, careful not to mar it with the stubble of my beard. “Ready for what, babe?”

  “To have sex.” Teddy rolls her eyes.

  We’ve been waiting—two months I’ve waited for her to say she’s ready, never rushing or pressuring her but wanting to fuck her all the same.

  “My condoms are like, a hundred years old.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m on the pill.”

  Say what now? “When did you do that?”

  “Last month. I went to health services just to be safe—just in case.”

  “You mean I get to bone you bareback?”

  “Um…yes?”

  Sweet!

  I’ve almost never been this excited in my entire fucking life. “I’ve been training for this moment.”

  Teddy laughs, a high-pitched giggle of nerves. “Would you knock it off?”

  “Nope, can’t—too excited.”

  “You’re supposed to be quiet and serious.”

  “Why? I want to be loud and bang the headboard into the wall.” I hop a little on the bed to illustrate my point, bouncing Teddy’s tits in the process.

  Win-win.

  “You are not banging me into any headboards.” The sassy little brat shoves my arm before flopping onto her back and throwing her arms behind her head. “You can get me naked, though, if you want.”

  I want.

  And I do.

  My dick is so stiff and hard it’s painful and becoming unbearable.

  I get to have sex with my girlfriend.

  I am having sex, motherfuckers!

  I try to curb my enthusiasm, but it’s hard.

  Really hard.

  I grin at my own pun, even though I didn’t say it out loud, and as if Teddy can read my mind, she rolls her eyes up at me as I shuck my shirt, pants, and—

  “Can you take off your socks?”

  And socks.

  If I wasn’t so damn horny, I’d be nervous too—getting blowjobs and jerking off is fine, but nothing beats the real deal. Not when all five foot five of beautiful, funny, and intelligent sleeps in bed next to you every night, reminding you.

  It’s to the point where every one of Teddy’s quiet sighs and inhaled breaths gets me hard. Every flirty laugh and touch to my body.

  I lean in, kissing the tip of her breast through the sheer, red fabric of her lingerie—her teddy—wetting it through the lace.

  Kiss along her collarbone, the column of her neck.

  We kiss, making out—tongues wet, mouths greedy—as my hands roam her body, feeling for the snaps at the crotch of her bodysuit.

  Rub her pussy with my thumb until her pelvis begins rocking and she squirms.

  Until she begs me to, “Take it off.”

  Then I’m above her, teasing her clit with the head of my cock, guiding it along her slit, stroking up and down, watching as her pupils dilate and nostrils flare. This is different than when we dry hump—this is the moment we both know we’re going to fuck.

  Screw.

  Make love. Whatever you want to call it, I’m ready.

  We both are.

  “Go slow,” comes her soft request.

  “Scared?” I kiss her forehead and brush away a few strands of hair.

  “A little.” Her hands cuff my biceps, and she’s biting down on her lower lip.

  “Me too.”

  “You are? Why?”

  “I’ve never done this with anyone I gave a shit about before.”

  “And you give a shit about me, huh?” Her eyes are sparkling, pleased.

  She knows what I mean—that I fucking love her even if neither of us has said the words out loud to each other yet.

  We know.

  I move again, this time pushing forward, cringing. Calling on my self-control—I have tons of it, I do; it’s just so fucking hard not to go balls deep.

  She’s wet so my cock glides in easy, searching for that point of resistance we’re both dreading.

  I kiss her again, catching the gasp that escapes her lungs, pausing before going farther.

  “Should I stop?” The last thing I want to do is hurt her.

  “No. Let’s get it over with.” When I laugh, she smacks me on the arm. “Stop it—your whole body is vibrating.”

  “Right. Game faces.” I stop laughing.

  Time to get serious.

  “Just do it, okay? The longer it takes you the worse it’s going to be.”

  “Are you sure?” I’m doubtful.

  “No, but it’s only going to hurt this one time, right?”

  “How the hell should I know?” It certainly didn’t hurt when I lost my virginity—it felt so fucking good, I came within seconds.

  “Push, Kip.”

  Push.

  Oh fuck she’s tight. And wet and…tight.

  She tenses beneath me when I thrust all the way in, expecting the worst, eyes squeezing shut.

  One peeps open. “Was that it?”

  “I mean…we’re not done, if that’s what you mean.”

  “No, I
mean—that pinched but it didn’t really hurt. Is that normal?”

  Again, how the hell would I know? “Not sure babe. Can I move now?”

  Her only reply is a wiggle of her hips, and I begin moving, in and out, thrusting slowly. Gradually going faster, gauging her reaction by reading her face.

  Mouth gaped open, her expression is almost unreadable.

  Hmm.

  Bracing myself with one elbow, I reach between our bodies, thumb finding her nub. Her clit. That tiny spot in her pussy I know will make her come.

  I rub.

  Slow circles as I fuck her slowly, around and around and around…

  So wet.

  So tight.

  My forehead perspires, and Jesus, I wish it fucking wouldn’t because who wants to be covered in sweat while they’re banging their girlfriend for the first time?

  Not me.

  Christ.

  But…

  Teddy begins moaning.

  Low in her throat. Tiny gasps.

  Holy shit, is she going to…?

  Is she seriously about to fucking come?

  There is no way.

  She is.

  She does.

  “Oh my god, Kip, oh my g-god, oh my god, oh my god…”

  The clenching of her inner muscles and ripples of pleasure send shocks to my dick, my balls receiving the message of all clear.

  “Fuck,” I moan into her hair. “Oh fuck, Teddy.”

  When I roll off of her, I take her hand in mine and hold it while we both stare at the ceiling, waiting to catch our breath.

  ***

  “I cannot believe you actually had an orgasm.” Honestly. Still can’t fucking believe it. The odds of that happening were slim to none. I didn’t think virgins could orgasm their first time.

  “Neither can I.”

  “I must have a magic cock or something.” What other explanation could there possibly be?

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay? If you hadn’t been rubbing me off at the same time, no way would I have come.”

  “Wanna make a bet?” My dick becomes alert, interested in the conversation.

  “Kip, I am not having sex with you again tonight.” Even in the dark, I can hear her eyes roll. “I’ll barely be able to walk to the bathroom as it is.”

  “Fine, but if you change your mind, I’ll be over here, thinkin’ ‘bout that sex.”

  “Keep your hands to yourself, unless you want to cuddle me.”

  “Cuddling I can do. You want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?”

  “Little spoon, please.” Her small body fits itself into mine, ass against my cock, back against my chest. Perfect fit. “Can you not drape your giant arm over my stomach? I won’t be able to breathe if you do—it weighs a ton.”

  My phone pings on the nightstand.

  I ignore it, obviously.

  “Are you going to see who that is?”

  We both know who it is, because I never receive texts from anyone but Teddy, my parents, and Veronica. Sometimes from one of the guys on the team, but rarely.

  “I don’t want to know what Ronnie wants at this hour of the night.”

  “Kip, it’s ten o’clock.”

  “So?”

  “That is not late, and she’s an hour behind us. Besides, what if it’s an emergency?”

  I glance down at Teddy, speaking into the crown of her head. “Are you serious? Nothing is ever an emergency with my sister. She’s texting because she’s nosy.”

  Her spidey senses were probably tingling, and she knows I just got laid so she’s texting to investigate.

  On the opposite nightstand, Teddy’s phone pings. “It’s like she knows.”

  Yeah, she knows all right.

  “Send her a Snap of the teddy on the floor with my dirty underwear—that will get her to leave us alone.”

  “Your sister?” Teddy cocks a brow. “She’d only screenshot it and use it against you later.”

  True. “What she needs to do is mind her own business.”

  “That’s funny, Veronica minding her own business.” Teddy laughs. “In her own way, she kind of played matchmaker.”

  I’m quiet for a few seconds, considering that. “Holy shit. You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, and that made me throw up in my mouth a little.”

  Teddy gives me a poke in the ribs. “Find out what she wants.”

  I sigh, rolling toward the nightstand.

  Ronnie: I told you so.

  Me: That’s why you’re texting me at 10 PM? To say I told you so?

  Ronnie: Yes.

  Me: Explain

  A few seconds later, a screenshot pops up—it’s part of the conversation we had weeks ago, on the weekend I brought Teddy back to my place. When I said we were only friends.

  Me: She’s just a friend. Barely even a friend.

  Ronnie: Mark my words, Kipling: this isn’t going to have the ending you think it will…

  “God I hate it when she’s right. It’s so fucking annoying.”

  Teddy is reading the text over my shoulder, and I can feel her smiling against my skin, her hand stroking my back. Lips kissing my shoulder.

  “I love that,” comes her timid whisper. “And I love you.”

  I set the phone back down, and, careful not to crush her, flip to my back. Find her lips and kiss her.

  “I love you too, babe.” Then, “Can we not tell Ronnie she was right?”

  “I think she already knows.”

  Yeah, probably. But still.

  “Did she send you anything else besides that red thing?”

  Teddy demurs, tracing my right pec with the tip of her finger. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

  Acknowledgments

  Confession: I love beards.

  I don’t know what took me so long to write a character who sported one—and I don’t know why it took so many calendar days to actually write and complete this book. I started early summer; normally, it takes me about four months to write a full-length novel, but this summer was rough going, and this one took me a good six months.

  Slow. Going.

  Not my norm, but nothing about this summer was normal. Not for me, anyway.

  So I have to thank everyone who was patient with me; the people who were there for me when things weren’t great. When life wasn’t easy. When the words wouldn’t come, no matter how hard I tried.

  You can’t force it.

  My assistant Christine isn’t just my assistant. She’s one of my best friends **holds back the tears** and one of the people I reply on the most. Not just for book related business, but for…my heart. I confide in her, trust her, and love her dearly. She’s my rock. Support. The one constant I have in my life right now besides my beautiful daughter.

  I couldn’t have made it though the summer, or finish this book, without Christine cheerleading me on. I know this manuscript made her nervous; I know she didn’t think it would be done on time. I know she was afraid to read it, LOL.

  I love you, Christine.

  Meghan Quinn—you’re another one that carried me this summer. I know I gave you more than a few heart palpitations and stressed you out; thank you for being patient, and kind, and wonderful. I probably didn’t deserve any of it, but I’m grateful for it. You’re a true, fast friend.

  Thank you to my Beta Readers, Laurie Darter and Jennifer Bidwell. I wasn’t sure I’d even have the chance to have anyone take a peek at it in advance, and I think I exhaled a huge sigh of relief when you both actually liked the book.

  My editor Caitlyn Nelson, whom I had to email multiple times and push back my editing dates **awkward smile** I was so relieved to make my deadline.

  My proofreaders Jennifer VanWyk and Karen Lawson.

  Formatter, Alyssa Garcia with Uplifting Designs.

  It takes a Village to publish a book, and I haven’t even thanked half the people who touched this novel, helped with teasers, graphics, promo, feedback, soci
al media…the list goes on and on.

  I’m grateful for you all.

  Xoxo

  Sara

  Chapter One

  Amelia

  “I need you to pretend to be me next weekend.”

  I stop eating, fork poised above my plate. “Why?”

  “I have two dates on the same night—oops.” My twin sister says it in a duh tone of voice, like it should have been obvious.

  “No.”

  “Please? Come on! It’ll be fun.”

  “No.” I ignore the whining tone in her voice, the one that rises a few decibels every time she speaks. “Pretending to be someone else isn’t fun for me—it’s stressful.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  I laugh. “Exactly my point. If I had to spend an entire night faking it, I would pass out from exhaustion.”

  “Maybe, but Dash is so hot, you won’t even care.”

  “Is that supposed to be a selling point? This guy you’re dating is hot?” I shove lettuce in my mouth and chew. Swallow. “Lucy, we look nothing alike.”

  Okay, so that’s not exactly true. We’re almost identical, I just hate admitting it.

  “He doesn’t know I’m a twin. Trust me, he won’t notice.”

  This gives me pause. “How does he not know you’re a twin?”

  “I mean, it’s not like we sit and talk about you,” she quips.

  “Right, but don’t you tell him about yourself? Normally you love to talk, and the twin thing is kind of a fun fact.” And a huge part of who you are as a human being, I want to add, but instead, I clamp my lips shut.

  “Of course I tell him about myself. I tell him my favorite foods so if he ever decides to take me to dinner he’ll know what I like, and I tell him my favorite movies so he’s prepared in the event that we go to one. I also show him my best side when I’m taking selfies.”

  How are we related?

  She twirls her hair. “But we’ve only gone out like, twice—I don’t count seeing him at house parties and stuff. He’s kind of annoying though, always trying to have deep, meaningful discussions.”

  My face contorts. “Why would you have a problem with that?”

  “Oh my God, Amelia, it’s not like we can have a serious talk in the middle of a party.”

  “What did you say his name was?”

  “Dash Amado.”

  I chuckle into my espresso. “Luce, I hate sounding like an ass, but how deep a discussion could a guy named Dash possibly want to have?”