I bite my lip. “You make it sound so science-y…”
“You’re the scientist, Ms. Hawthorne. Experiment.” He sits back and waits with that smirk plastered on his face.
Experiment. It’s not the first word that comes to mind when I think of sex. On the other hand, that’s what you’re supposed to do with your college years. Try new things. Find out who you are and what you like. I didn’t really do that during my undergraduate education but that was all my fault, really. One bad experience shut all of that down and I spent most of those years with my head in a textbook instead.
I push up on my knees, inching a little closer to his cock as I take it in my hand. He exhales as I take hold of him and I see that look of desire in his eyes; that same look he gave me when he told me I was beautiful. As I move, I look at him, waiting for that moment of impatience to cross his face but it never does. He really is letting me take control.
I move his tip toward my entrance and I pause, feeling that large width against my tightness.
“Don’t worry, Rose,” he whispers, his lips brushing mine. “It’ll fit.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, feeling a rush of embarrassment as laughter tickles my throat. “Are you sure?”
He kisses me again. “Trust me.”
His lips fall to my neck, seducing me even more and I feel that rush of heat between us again.
I take it slow, gently lowering myself on him, and he grips my waist again to help me. His tip splits my folds, easily finding its way in me and I tighten as a stab of discomfort tingles my nerves.
“Relax…” he whispers again, letting out a quick groan.
I fill my lungs, soothing every muscle in my core, and he slips in a little more. The discomfort fades and I quiver as a long-dead instinct awakens in me. I lean forward to kiss him, tasting his warm breath as I dance on his tip, barely taking in more than an inch or two but we both moan with pleasure.
He sits still, letting me use him as I want, but his face tells me he likes it. “I want to make you come on this cock so bad, Rose…” he grunts.
“I think I might…” I laugh, relaxing even more as I slip down his shaft another inch. His fingers squeeze my sides, pleasure chipping away at him as my own body’s desires take hold of me.
I round my hips, experimenting until I find a spot that gets me moaning.
“There you go…” He smiles, studying my face.
I lay my forehead against his, breathing hard. “I want more.”
“Take it, Rose.”
I slide him deeper and I moan louder. We kiss, long and hard, as I ride him up and down. I’m sure I haven’t even taken him all the way yet. I’m not sure if I even can…
I let myself drop on him and I gasp with wide eyes. “Fuck…”
“Don’t stop,” he begs, digging his fingers into me even harder. I feel his hips buck slightly. He’s holding himself back, fighting to let me stay in control but I can tell how badly he wants to ravage me completely.
I smile, staring into his tortured eyes. “Fuck me, Johnny.”
He raises a brow. “Yeah?”
“Make me come again,” I say. “I’m so close…”
“Lean back,” he says. “Put your hands on my knees.” I do as he says, arching my back and propping myself up on my hands. “Sway your hips, like this…” He guides me with his hands on my hips, angling his cock so it presses hard against my inner wall.
“Oh, god…” I tremble more with every slow sway and he meets me with a hard thrust, easily pushing me toward the edge.
“You like it deep, don’t you, Rose?” he growls.
I nod my head, unable to speak.
“I’m going to make you come,” he continues, feeling up my body to cup my breasts, “but I won’t let you rest. I’m going to fuck you all night, Ms. Hawthorne. We’re just getting started.”
He slides a hand down and presses the tip of his thumb against my clit, taking me by surprise with a firm massage. I moan at the ceiling, barely breathing as he forces the orgasm on me. I feel his hand on my back, holding me up as my fingers slip off his knees. He embraces me against him. I cling to his wide shoulders as my entire body turns to jelly.
“Now…” he whispers in my ear. “Where’s the bedroom?”
I lift a quivering finger and point down the hall.
Chapter 11
John
Rose laughs and, for a moment, it’s like the world stops turning.
Everything pauses; from the wind in the trees outside to the beating heart in my chest. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before and I’m honestly terrified that I’ll never feel it ever again.
“What?” she asks.
I blink from my place on her bed. “Nothing,” I say, staring over at her with my head held up by my hand. “Just catching my breath.”
She chuckles and adjusts the pillow beneath her chin.
I scan the room for the first time, taking in the details of her living space. She lives alone, that much is obvious. I doubt we would have fucked so rambunctiously with the door open if she was scared of a roommate barging in at any moment.
My eyes land on a photograph on her bedside table. It’s a novelty frame with large footballs on each corner. The photo itself is of her and a girl that looks exactly like her standing together at a stadium surrounded by red and orange colors.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing at it.
She cranes her neck to look behind her. “The picture?”
“Yeah.”
She grabs it and hands it over to me with a smile. “That’s me and my sister at Arrowhead Stadium last year.”
I blink, pausing to take a good, long look at her face in the photo; grinning and happy. “You like football?”
“Doesn’t everybody?” She chuckles. “Well, except my sister, Daisy. She’s more into baseball.”
“Rose…” I grin, “and Daisy?”
She rolls her eyes. “I know. You can blame my dad for that crap.”
I take another look around and her world comes into even greater focus. More framed pictures sit around, most of them of her and her sister with face paint on their cheeks at various sporting events. Team pendants hang on the wall by the window. Stuffed toys of mascots sit on a chair in the corner. I’m not sure how I missed it at first, but then again, my focus is more or less locked on the lady when I’m between her knees.
I turn back to her. “You really like football…”
“Yeah. I, uh…” She blushes a little and her eyes fall to the mattress.
“What?” I grin.
“I got kind of… excited when I saw your name on Dr. Zach’s class list.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
I shake my head. “So, when I spoke to you after class that first day, you were actually—”
“Completely fucking freaking out inside, yeah.”
Holy shit.
We both laugh. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me,” I say.
“Well…” She shrugs her shoulders once. “I can’t have anything to do with you, technically…”
I admire her pink cheeks for a few moments, letting it all sink in. “Huh…”
“What?” she asks.
“I just… never would have guessed. Do you go to our games?”
“Every single one.” She nods. “Especially last year. Cary Pierce was the friggin’ coach. I nearly had a heart attack when I found out.”
“Me, too!” I laugh.
“What was it like?” she asks, her eyes growing wider. “Having him for a coach?”
“Uh… amazing. The guy was a genius.”
“He had to have been to turn the team around like that. I’ve gone to every home game here since I was a freshman and I never saw the team do that well.”
“Did you meet him while he was here?”
“Hell yes! Just once, though.” She points to a shelf behind me across the room. “I got him to sign that ball for me after the Homecoming game last year.”
I glance over my shoulder and I stare at the bright metallic signature scribbled across the pigskin.
Turns out, Rose Hawthorne is even better than I thought she was. I just expected her to be some cutesy science nerd. Not that she isn’t. She definitely is but I never thought she’d be a huge football fan, too. I wasn’t even sure that hybrid existed in a girl like her.
She’s still grinning at me when I turn back and it fires warmth all the way through my toes. “You’re really fucking cool, Rose.”
She laughs. “Thank you.”
My gut lurches, struck down by a feeling completely new and oddly scary. I sit still, hoping it’ll pass but it lingers in me like a virus taking hold of my system.
This is guilt. I feel guilty. I never feel guilty but laying across from her now, covered in her sweat, I feel like shit.
Because she’s just part of the trifecta.
One down. Two to go.
“Hey, Johnny…”
My lips curl at the sound of her voice. “Yeah?”
She moves closer and the sheet slides from her breasts as she leans in to kiss me. I lay a hand on the small of her back, pulling her in to feel those soft tits press hard against my chest. She giggles as she rolls on top of me and my groin surges with blood again.
After a few moments, she pushes up on her arms and looks at me with serious eyes. “We should talk about this…”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Not yet.
“John, we probably shouldn’t do this again.”
I exhale, dropping my head back onto the pillow. “I knew you were going to say that…”
“Because I’m right.”
“No, Rose. You are emphatically wrong about this.”
She raises a brow. “Emphatically?”
“Yes. Emphatically,” I repeat. “Beyond doubt.”
“I know what it means.” She grins. “I just like hearing you say it.”
“Oh, yeah?” I push her hair out of her face. “You like hearing a big, dumb jock say big, tough words?”
She bites her lip. “Tell me another one.”
“Loquacious.”
“Ooo!” She chuckles. “More.”
“Infinitesimal.”
“Are you trying to turn me on?”
“Indubitably.”
She laughs hard and grabs a pillow to smother me with. I block the attack and toss the pillow away before wrapping my arms around her to hold her against me. Her lips find mine and we kiss again, completely blocking out the rest of the world. I massage my tongue against hers, tasting every moan that trembles her mouth.
My cock stirs as she squirms on me and my breath catches in my throat as she reaches down to wrap her little fingers around it. She gives me a few tight, quick strokes and I groan for more of it.
I lay a hand on her cheek and run my thumb across her bottom lip. A sudden rush of embarrassment strikes me down and I feel like a damn nervous freshman again. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but I can’t seem to shake that strange feeling off my insides.
Finally, I spit it out. “Rose, have you ever…?”
She raises her brow, waiting for me to say it first but I chicken out. “Sucked a dick?” she blurts, smiling.
“Yeah.”
Rose licks her lips and lays kisses on my neck as she slides down my chest. Pleasure rushes over my skin with every soft lick from that perfect tongue of hers and by the time her head disappears beneath the sheet, I’m hard as a fucking rock again.
Her little mouth wraps around the head of my cock and my hips buck with surprise. “Holy shit…” I breathe, feeling that powerful suction take hold of me.
Her head bobs, taking my thick tip in and out of that hot mouth and my brain turns numb.
“Are you sure you’ve only done this once?” I joke, falling back against the pillows. I feel her laugh and vibrations rattle my cock, shooting pleasure down my legs.
I slide the sheet down so I can watch those pretty eyes gaze up at me.
Yeah, definitely not a one-time thing.
It can’t be and I’d be insane to never let this happen again. Rose Hawthorne is perfect. Perfect body, perfect mind. Everything about her. Her eyes, her voice. Her sense of humor. Even her imperfections are adorable, like the freckles speckled between her thighs. She even likes football and she — definitely — loves sucking cock. I can’t think of a better woman and I’m not going to waste my time looking either.
I lay a hand on her head, sliding a finger above her eyes to push her hair away. My chest heaves, barely able to keep up with the sensations dancing through my shaft as her tongue laps me like an ice cream cone between those pretty, pink lips.
“Rose,” I say, tapping her head.
She keeps her lips wrapped around me, refusing to pull out as I explode into the back of her throat. Her fist strokes me off and I watch as she lets it all gather on her tongue before swallowing every drop.
“Holy shit,” I groan, laughing hard as she lays soft, wet kissing down my twitching cock. “I… am shocked.”
Rose sits up and straddles me again, staring down at me as she wipes her lips. “Don’t you mean flabbergasted?”
Fucking perfection.
Chapter 12
Rose
October
“Next week, we start the really hard stuff.”
My eyes instantly flinch toward John in the front row, just in time to see his lips twitch with amusement.
I clear my throat, trying to ignore the pool forming in my panties but I’ve been wet since class started. It’s downright Pavlovian at this point. I stand up here, all authoritarian and professional, John stares at me with those fuck me eyes, and my body instantly responds like crazy.
“And by that,” I say, quickly spinning away from him, “I mean molecular and empirical formulas, so make sure to bring your calculators because you’ll officially need them starting now.” I pause. “Any questions before I dismiss you…?”
No one raises a hand. Of course, they don’t. It’s Friday and no one’s going to delay the end of class with a stupid question.
“All right. I’ll see you all on Monday,” I say. “Be sure to cheer on your football team tomorrow! They’re four for four so far!”
Students applaud in response and John grins up at me with his pen balanced between his lips. He stands out of his chair and throws his bag over his shoulder with his eyes on me the entire time.
“Excuse me, Ms. Hawthorne,” he says at normal volume by the door. “Do you have office hours today?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“Do you mind if I stop by?” he asks. “I think I screwed up those problems in chapter eight…”
“Sure, I’ll walk you through them again.”
“Excellent. Thank you.”
I pause in the doorway. “Oh, and bring a calculator.”
He smiles. “I will.”
* * *
“We can’t keep doing this, John.”
His tongue slides along my neck, drawing a line from my ear to my collarbone. “That’s what you said after the first time,” he grins, “and the second time... and the third time...”
“Well...” I let out a soft moan as he lays a hand between my thighs. “It just seems like one of those things one of us should say...”
“I hear you, Ms. Hawthorne...”
A shiver slides down my spine as he says the name and I spread my legs for him as he leans me back against the desk. He crushes his lips on mine, making the world stop turning. I thought that sensation would degrade the more he did it but each kiss still feels like the first time.
I tug on his belt. “Did you bring a calculator?”
He chuckles against my lips. “Back pocket.”
I reach around him and slide my fingers into his jeans pocket, feeling the square, foil packaging hidden inside.
A knock taps the office door. “Hey, Rose, you in here?”
I push John away a
s panic takes over. “Desk—” I spit.
“What?”
“Under the desk.”
John falls to his knees behind the desk as the door cracks open and I rush to push my skirt down before Dr. Zach pokes his head into the office.
“Hey, Dr. Zach!” I say, my voice way too loud.
He steps inside with a smile and closes the door behind him. “I was hoping to get a few minutes with you to talk midterms.”
I nod and take a wide step around the desk to sit there before he can. “Sure.”
As I slide into the chair, I see John peeking out with wild, mischievous eyes. I lay a hidden hand on his forehead to push him back.
“What’s on your mind, Dr. Zach?”
He sits down in the chair across from me, thankfully oblivious to John’s presence. “We’re getting into some heavy material now...”
“Yes, we are.”
John lays his hands on my knees beneath the desk and I bite my cheek.
Dr. Zach shows a quick smile. “So, I hope you don’t take it too personally when I say I’m benching you for the next few classes.”
Strong hands force my knees apart and I softly kick John with my toes, tapping him wherever I can to stop him. “Benching me?”
John keeps going, sliding his fingers between my thighs and my heart skips.
“It took me years before I even mastered this stuff, so I’d rather take the wheel and make sure the students get it right. Not that I don’t think you’re more than capable of teaching this, Rose, you’ve definitely come a long way since your first day.”
“Thank you, Dr. Zach,” I say, sitting still. “I completely understahhh—” I bite my tongue as John slides a thick finger inside of me.
Dr. Zach furrows his brow. “Are you okay?”
I try to ignore the firm stroke inching in and out of me. “Of course,” I laugh. “I skipped breakfast today. Just a bit hungry, I think.”
Zach points a stern finger at me. “Take care of yourself. I need you sharp.”
“Yes, sir.” I chew on my lip, feeling that familiar pleasure growing in me as John plays me like a damn drum.
The Bad Baller Collection Page 28
