Rixon Raiders: The Collection

by L A Cotton

  “Don’t you ever just want it to stop?” he whispered so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.

  “S- stop?”

  “Yeah, the constant noise and pressure and... everything.”

  More than you know, I wanted to say; but I couldn’t speak because his lips were right by mine.

  “Ja—”

  He kissed me. Just a gentle brush of his mouth over the corner of mine. It might as well have been a hot desperate kiss for the way my body reacted.

  My breathing was labored but nowhere near as ragged as Jason’s.

  “Last chance to tell me to stop, Giles,” he rasped, his eyes boring into mine.

  Stop, the word formed on my tongue, but melted into nothing before I could say it. Because no matter how much I knew this was a bad idea… no matter how much I’d regret it later… no one had ever made me feel the way Jason did. So alive. So desired.

  “I don’t want you to stop,” I breathed. The carnal growl that vibrated in Jason’s chest turned my blood to molten lava. He wanted this.

  Wanted me.

  And in that moment, I didn’t care if he’d regret it, or never look at me again. Right here, right now, I needed him to touch me. I needed him to make me feel.

  He didn’t devour me the way he had before. This time his kiss was slow, deliberate. He took his time acquainting himself with the shape of my lips, licking and nibbling. I slid my hand up and over his shoulder, feeling his hard muscle ripple beneath my touch.

  “Get over here, Giles.” His hand found my thigh and he helped me climb over the center console and onto his lap, straddling him.

  “Fuck,” he grunted, pain etched on his face.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s nothing.” Jason dragged me closer.

  It was close. Too close. Intimate and intense, the low body of his vintage car not built for heavy make out sessions.

  There was a split second, as I settled over him, that our eyes connected. Eyes hooded, burning with lust, Jason looked deadly; but there was something else, something underneath the dark mask he wore. It was gone in an instant, his mouth quickly finding mine again as he ground into me, showing me just how much I turned him on.

  And dear God, if that didn’t go straight to my head.

  I understood it now. Why girls chased bad boys, hoping to be the one to tame their wild ways. For this, right here, the ounce of power my body had over him. The way my kisses made him grow harder, made him hungry for more.

  I wasn’t foolish enough to believe it meant anything—I knew it didn’t. But how could I not feel all warm and gooey inside knowing that out of all the girls he could have been here with, he was with me.

  He’d chosen me.

  Don’t run away with yourself, Flick. He didn’t choose you. You were there. Convenient. Like a grab-and-go snack. I shut the intrusive thoughts out. There would be time to analyze and regret later.

  “You have too many fucking clothes on,” his voice was rough against my skin, as he worked my Raiders sweater up and over my head. The thin tank underneath molded to my curves and Jason’s eyes homed straight in on the swell of my breasts. “Gorgeous,” the word formed on his lips.

  I slipped my hand between us, desperate to feel his skin, to explore his body, sculpted to perfection from hours and hours of physical conditioning. But he snagged my wrist, smirking at me. It was almost dark now, the canvas of stars twinkling down on us like distant spectators; only the silvery hue of the moon illuminating our profiles. If it was possible, it made him look even more devastating.

  “Ja—”

  “Ssh.” He silenced me with a finger pressed against my lips again, while his other hand slid down my chest, trailing a path between the valley of my breasts, and down my stomach. I sucked in a harsh breath when he grazed the waistband of my leggings but it didn’t deter Jason. He continued his exploration of my body, touching and kneading, smoothing his fingers over my skin. But when he dipped his hand inside my leggings, I could barely contain the moan building in my throat.

  “So fucking wet,” he said gruffly, not giving me chance to catch my breath or process what was happening, as he pressed a finger inside me.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, rocking against his hand, needing more.

  Needing so much more.

  My head dropped back, exposing my neck and collarbone to him. Answering my silent plea, Jason dipped his head kissing the hollow of my throat, sucking gently. Driving me wild.

  “Jase,” I panted, the intrusion of a second finger making me wince. But only for a second, as pleasure flowed through me like a gentle wave.

  I was lost in the intense sensations. The warm current flowing between us, through us. The intimate position. The feel of his hot mouth around my breast as he worked his fingers inside me, circling his thumb over my clit.

  “I’m so close,” I whispered, barely able to recognize my own voice. My legs began to shake as Jason went deeper, harder. I’d never let anyone touch me like this before. Not the way Jason did. As if it wasn’t about my pleasure at all, but his. As if my body was his to play however he wanted.

  It occurred to me, in that moment, maybe it was.

  I dropped my head to look at him. Sure enough, he was watching me with eyes so dark they looked black. A lazy smirk was plastered on his face as he increased the tempo.

  “You like my fingers inside you?” he asked as if I could possibly respond with anything other than a small nod.

  “Oh God, Jason...” I couldn’t breathe, my orgasm slamming into me like a tsunami.

  “Come for me, Felicity,” he rasped, still watching me. “Come all over my fingers.”

  His dirty words sent me over the edge, as my body clamped down. I took a shuddering breath, trying to swallow down the urge to call his name over and over.

  I collapsed into him, sliding my hands around his neck. But Jason pushed me back, his eyes narrowed and clouded as he slowly brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean.

  My tummy clenched.

  Christ, he was beautiful. A dark and dangerous angel.

  “What?” I asked as he continued watching me, but his cell vibrated, cutting through the thick silence that had descended over us. Jason leaned around me and grabbed it.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked when I noticed he’d gone tense beneath me.

  “We should go. Everyone’s meeting at Bell’s.” His voice was cold, detached, and I knew whatever had just happened between us was over.

  I tried to temper the dejection squeezing my heart as I clambered off him and sat back in the passenger seat. He handed me my sweater without a word, fired up the engine and backed out of the sandy lot.

  It wasn’t until ten minutes later, when I climbed out of his car trying to reconcile what had just happened, I realized he hadn’t let me touch him. Before he got the text, before the temperature had cooled a gazillion degrees between us, Jason had gotten me half-naked and played my body the way he played the game: sure and confident and one hundred percent in control.

  But he hadn’t let me touch him back.

  If we hadn’t been interrupted would he have?

  Something told me it was better not to ask... because I probably wouldn’t like the answer.

  Chapter Eight

  Jason

  Bell’s was crammed, everyone showing up to celebrate with the team. We usually partied at Asher’s, but since his parents were in town, we’d come to the bar instead.

  “Hey,” he said, waving me over. “Where’s Fee?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  “You didn’t offer to bring her?”

  “No I didn’t offer to bring her. What am I, her damn babysitter?”

  Asher eyed me carefully. “What’s up? You seem pissy?”

  My brow arched. “Thatcher sending his cousin to do his dirty work not enough reason to be pissed?”

  “Yeah, I just thought... it doesn’t matter.”

  He wanted to ask about Felicity; it was right there
in his eyes. But she was the last thing I wanted to talk about—especially with him.

  I’d fucked up again earlier. I should never have driven her out to the lake and kissed her. Or put your hands on her.

  She just made it all so damn easy. Nothing like Jenna or the other girls I was used to being around. Felicity was just content being there; talking and listening. And some of the shit that came out of her mouth... well, it was gold dust, and strangely, I found myself craving whatever weird assed sentence was going to come out of her pouty mouth next. But nothing was as intriguing as the way she let me handle her body. She handed me complete control, as if she trusted me with every fiber of her being. Which was ironic considering I was the last person on Earth she should trust.

  Despite her serious lapse in judgement where I was concerned, Felicity was a smart girl who gave as good as she got. But when I put my hands on her skin, my mouth on hers, something changed. It was addictive.

  She was addictive.

  But she was also off-limits for so many fucking reasons I should probably make a list.

  Yeah, she’d love that.

  I fought a smile.

  “What’s got you grinning like the Cheshire Cat?” Asher nudged me, taking a long pull on his beer.

  “Nothing, just thinking.” His frowned deepened as if I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

  “How’s the ribs?”

  “I’ll live.” I shrugged, chugging down my beer. Thatcher’s cousin had gotten in a couple of hard digs, and I had a nice bruise forming, but it wasn’t enough to do any real damage.

  Just then, the door swung open and Cameron and Hailee walked in, Felicity trailing in behind them, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

  Fuck.

  I hadn’t anticipated seeing her again tonight.

  “There he is,” Grady called. “Get over here, Rocky Balboa, drinks are on the house.”

  The whole place cheered causing Cam to duck his head.

  Pussy.

  He never did eat up the limelight like the rest of us, and now he was with Hailee, he was even more inclined to linger in the background. I’d always given him shit for it. Back when we were kids and people began to take notice, I couldn’t understand why he rarely lapped up the attention. But now I wondered if Cam was onto something. If maybe he knew all along that if you stayed in the limelight for too long, it would eventually burn your soul until there was nothing left but ash.

  Cameron was sporting a nice shiner underneath his left eye. I had to give him props, I didn’t know he had it in him. Because what they said was true: girls really did make you crazy. And my best friend was two screws loose over my step-sister.

  “Fee, baby, you came.”

  “I... Hailee insisted.” She kept her eyes on Asher, refusing to look at me.

  It shouldn’t have bothered me so much, but it did.

  “Well, let’s get you ladies a drink.” He leaped up and slung his arm round her shoulders. I followed him up.

  “I’ll be at the pool table.”

  Hailee caught my eye, but I simply tipped my chin and kept on walking.

  “Hey, Jase, good game tonight.” A petite blond sidled up to me, running her hands suggestively up my chest.

  “Hey...”

  “Marissa,” she purred, her eyes full of intention. “I’m on the swim team.

  “You must love getting wet then,” one of the guys hollered. I glowered at him, dragging my eyes back to Marissa, expecting to see her mild disgust at his words. But in true jersey chaser fashion she batted her eyes, fingering the collar on my Henley.

  “Oh, I love getting wet.” The words teased off her tongue slowly. “I don’t suppose you could help me out with that, could you?”

  Marissa was hot. Tight body accentuated by the mini skirt and one size too small Raiders tank she wore. Bringing my thumb to my lip, I let my eyes drift down her curves. She was exactly my type. Slim. Athletic. And down for whatever. But something was missing. That something was currently giggling at Asher like he hung the fucking moon.

  “Jason.” Marissa’s hand grazed my semi-interested dick, commanding my attention. “I said do you want to get out of here?”

  “Maybe later. It’s still early.”

  Rejection flashed in her eyes, but then her seductive smile slid back in place. “You know where to find me.” She flicked her head toward a group of girls.

  “Yeah.” I grabbed my bottle of Bud and took a long pull.

  “Jason Ford passing up fresh pussy?” Grady came up beside me. “Hell must have frozen over.”

  “I’m not sure she could handle me.” I smirked.

  “Oh shit, you’re bad, Cap. So fucking bad. But if you’re not gonna indulge, mind if I—”

  “Be my guest, man.”

  He slapped me on the back as he passed, making a beeline for Marissa and her carbon-copy swim team friends. He was quickly joined by Mackey and a couple of other rookies. They were worse than dogs in heat. Thank fuck I didn’t have to work for it. Being QB One meant something in Rixon; but being Jason Ford—son of local football hero Kent Ford—and QB One meant everything. Guys wanted to be me and girls wanted to screw me. Everyone wanted their fill. And until recently, I’d soaked it up. But when everyone wanted a piece of you, the chance to say they knew you... partied with you... fucked you... or even fought with you, there wasn’t much left to go around. It was a catch twenty-two, a rock and really fucking hard place. Because I loved the game, loved it more than anything in the world. Cut me open and I was pretty sure I’d bleed football. But it came at a price. One everyone thought they would happily pay until it’s your life. Until you don’t know who you can trust or who wants to use you as a steppingstone to their five minutes of small-town fame.

  It’s why I’d hated Hailee so much when she’d first moved here. She was so judgmental, sweeping in with her holier-than-thou attitude, assuming she knew what I was like.

  Who I was.

  So I liked sex, but didn’t want to date or get tied down to one girl? The last thing I wanted was to put down roots here. Rixon was merely a steppingstone to bigger and better things. And I had one plan: to achieve what my old man couldn’t and get drafted to the NFL. An injury had ended his career in senior year of college. His dream might have gone up in smoke but his legacy lived on.

  Me.

  And I was going all the way.

  No matter the cost.

  “Something on your mind?” Cameron pulled up a stool next to the high table beside me.

  “Nah, just watching Grady make an ass of himself.”

  “You know, you can come sit with us.”

  “I know.”

  “What I’m trying to figure out is if you won’t come over because of Hailee or Felicity or both of them?”

  “Look, Chase, I’m happy for you, I am. Does it freak me out you’re boning my step-sister? Hell yes.” I shuddered. “But I get it. You need her, she needs you, yada yada yada.”

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

  My eyes levelled him. “You gave up Penn for her.” Cameron had always been coming to Penn with me. We were going to dominate the Quakers and kick some Ivy League ass. But then his mom got sick and he and Hailee... well, things changed. He changed.

  Cam let out a heavy sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “I thought we were over this? I get football is important to you, but there’s more to life—”

  “Is this the part where you tell me that one day I’ll meet the one and realize I want to settle down, get married, and pop out a couple of kids? Because if it is, you’re wasting your breath.”

  “I know Aimee hurt—”

  “You think this has fuck all to do with Aimee? She was nothing but a conniving piece of shit like her brother.”

  “Jase, come on, this is me. You don’t need to put—”

  “Aimee was a mistake.” A huge fucking mistake that came back around to bite me in the ass. If I’d have known she was Thatcher’s sister from the get
go, I never would have looked at her, let alone touched her.

  “It’s okay to admit you felt something...” Cameron trailed off when I glared at him. Hard. He didn’t get it. I didn’t want to feel. I didn’t want to care about anyone other than myself and my future. Caring made you vulnerable. It opened you up to a whole world of hurt I had no interest in feeling. Besides, when I cradled the leather ball in my hands, I had everything I needed.

  “Okay, I won’t say another word. But you should still come sit with us. I know it’d mean a lot to Hailee.” Cam stalked back to their booth, and I let my eyes drift over to them. Hailee was gazing up at him with stars in her eyes and Asher was busy entertaining Felicity with nothing but a beer mat and his nose. It would have been easy to go sit with them, to pretend I was okay with how much everything was changing. But then, Asher leaned forward, brushing a wisp of hair from Felicity’s face and my hand tightened around the bottle. He was touching her and she was loving every second.

  Fuck that.

  And fuck them.

  “Jerry,” I called as I approached the bar. “I’m gonna need something stronger.”

  “Come on, Jase, you know I can’t—”

  “I like you, J, but it’s either serve me the damn liquor or I’ll go get it elsewhere.”

  He let out a resigned sigh and shook his head. “You remind me of him, you know. Back in the day.”

  “Spare me the ‘you’re just like your old man’ crap.” I nursed my empty bottle, waiting for Jerry to pour my new drink.

  “Even sound like him too,” his chest rumbled with laughter. “I’m cutting you off after two.”

  “Three.” I rose a brow.

  “Fine, three and you’re done.” He pushed a glass of whiskey toward me. It wasn’t exactly the drink of champions, but I’d acquired the taste when me and the guys used to raid my dad’s liquor cabinet back when we were kids.

  Just like my old man, the words made me shudder. He was everything I was trying not to be. The prime example of someone letting it all go to their head. It didn’t matter that Dad had me and Mom at home. Some skirt only had to bat her eyes in his direction and he’d be foaming at the mouth. My mom, now there was an example of a strong woman. She’d stuck by Dad through it all: the depression, the melancholy, the endless string of faceless women. But everyone had a breaking point, and Dad had found hers. Mom finally walked away and I had to choose—a new life, new school, and new team, or Rixon. A decision I would never forgive him for.