The Relationship Pact: Kings of Football

by Locke, Adriana

If she wants me to act like I’ll fuck her, I will.

  And if she wants me to actually fuck her, I'll do that too.

  She’s sexy as fuck, and I’m horny as hell. And have been since the first time she looked up and into my eyes.

  “I've been called troubled before,” I admit, playing along. “By lots and lots of people.”

  “I can see why,” she says, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck.

  The contact makes me crazy. The weight of her hand on the sensitive skin of the back of my neck heats my blood and makes me shiver at the same time.

  My pulse kicks into overdrive. My body almost trembles as I stare into her hooded eyes.

  “You pose a different sort of problem for me,” she says.

  I'm trying to stay calm and let her work out whatever this is. But with every brush of her fingertip and every sway of her hip, I find it harder and harder to be patient.

  “What kind of problem?” I ask.

  “Well, I had sworn off guys,” she says, “but really, I swore off relationships with guys.”

  “So, a relationship with girls is okay?”

  She silences me with a look.

  “Sorry. Continue,” I tell her, enjoying the feeling of having her in my arms.

  “I can't really have a relationship with you, now can I?” she asks. “Because you’re going home in a few days. Our relationship pact expires tonight. I'm not going to run into you or find myself in precarious situations with you all winter, now am I?”

  “Nope.”

  “So …” She brushes against me again. This time, there is absolutely no possibility that it was anything but intentional. “What could it hurt if we... indulged in this little charade we have going on and ended it on a high note?”

  She stills. Her bottom lip goes between her teeth as she gazes up at me like a little vixen that I thought she wasn't.

  I can feel every beat of my heart pound against my rib cage. I'm aware of every shallow breath she takes as she awaits my reaction.

  I'm also acutely aware of how bad I want to be inside her little body right fucking now.

  I shift my weight from one foot to the other to get rid of some of the energy building inside me.

  “You're playing a dangerous game,” I tell her.

  “And why is that?”

  I run my nose down the side of her cheek. She holds her breath as I smile against her skin. It’s pure torture for me, but she deserves a little payback since her touches have been driving me insane for a while now.

  “Because if you don't stop,” I say, lowering my voice, “I will find a place, and I will fuck you. Hard.”

  She tries to stay composed, but her eyes give her away. Her pupils dilate as my words sink into her brain.

  Finally, her head tilts to the side, and she grins.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asks, the words coming out in a rasp.

  Game on.

  Fourteen

  Larissa

  Oh, my God.

  Hollis locks our hands together and, without hesitation, makes his way to the front of the restaurant. We weave in and out of bodies, around circles of people talking about the stock market, and dodge men in bow ties carrying plates of hors d’oeuvres.

  None of the people we pass know what we’re doing or why we’re leaving the event like we’re on a mission.

  Something about the secret—that only Hollis and I know what we’re up to—makes my blood pound even harder through my veins.

  “Excuse us,” I say as a waiter nearly blindsides us. There was no way he anticipated two people darting by him, and I feel sorry he had to rebalance the baked brie on his tray.

  But my sympathy only lasts for a moment. Before I know it, we exit the restaurant perched at the top of the swanky Jamison Hotel that Jack’s company rented out for the night.

  I come to a halt behind Hollis, almost stumbling on my heels like a little girl wearing them for the first time.

  A double-elevator bay sits to our right. Two large doors are closed to our left. Straight ahead is a balcony that overlooks the Savannah River.

  Hollis looks around before tugging me behind him until we stop again—this time beneath a brightly colored painting of fruit.

  A slight breath escapes my lips as he guides me in front of him. I land against his hard chest, and he locks his hands against the small of my back.

  “Still feeling this?” he asks as he studies me intently.

  “Yes.”

  No other words are needed.

  The corner of his mouth upturns as he drags a finger down the side of my face. A flurry of goose bumps breaks out across my skin.

  I reach up and rest my arms against his shoulders, letting my fingers play in the silky strands of his hair. He leans his head against the crook of my elbow.

  “Do you want to be fucked, Miss Mason?”

  Something about the way he poses the question—and lingers on the one particular word—strikes a match inside me.

  I return his playful grin. “I thought that’s where you were taking me.”

  “I was. I am. I just want to be sure.”

  The truth is, I am sure. I want him. I want him so freaking bad, and I’m positive he wants me too.

  The beauty of it—the way that I tell myself that it’s okay to give in and go for it—is that he’s safe. We are on the same page about what we are, and that’s a means to an end.

  Unlike the men before him, this won’t end badly. There’s nothing to end. And that is beautiful.

  I tear my gaze from his and look around the elevator landing. There’s nowhere for us to go. We could go out onto the balcony, but the odds someone would interrupt us is near one-hundred-percent. A bathroom is just gross. A room is too expensive and completely overkill for a quickie.

  “I’m sure,” I say. “But I don’t know where we could pull that off.”

  He looks at something behind me, and a twinkle lights up his eyes.

  “Where there is a will, there is a way,” he says.

  I heave a breath. “That sounds worrisome.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Hollis …”

  He brings his hands—both of them—to my face. He cups my cheeks and looks me dead in the eye.

  My breath hiccups as I lose all sense and sensibilities.

  “Do you trust me, Larissa? Because if you don’t, we’ll go back to your stepdaddy’s party and have a good time. I’m perfectly fine with that.”

  I wrap my hands around his wrists. I can feel the muscles in his forearm and the meatiness of his palms.

  I’m suddenly aware of just how much I don’t want to go back inside Picante yet. My body screams with the need to touch his. My breasts ache, my legs feel heavy. The panties I almost didn’t wear are soaked.

  “I trust you,” I say matter-of-factly.

  He bends down and presses a quick, chaste kiss against my lips. When he pulls back, the smirk that’s settled where my mouth just was is enough to almost elicit a moan.

  “Follow me,” he says softly.

  He takes my hand again and leads me to the elevator. Much to my surprise, he presses the button to go up.

  I furrow my brow. “That sign says the terrace is closed for a remodel.”

  He grins and doesn’t say a word.

  “Ooh.”

  The bell rings, and the elevator opens. We step inside. Hollis pushes the R button.

  The motor spins, and the elevator car begins to move.

  I stand on one side of the box. Hollis stands on the other. He stands with his legs shoulder-width apart and rubs a hand down his cheek. He never takes his eyes off me.

  Watching him watch me and knowing that he’s thinking about what he’s going to do to me in a short matter of time has every cell in my body short-circuiting.

  My skin already feels like it’s a hundred degrees. My stomach feels hollow except for a knot that grinds against the lower part of my abs.

  Each second that goes by migh
t as well be an hour and, by the time the doors slide open, I’m ready to just strip out of my dress if it will speed things up.

  Cool December air slams into us. We step onto the rooftop and take in our surroundings.

  A brick wall that’s waist-high or more sits along the edge. A water tank and pieces of ductwork are partially hidden by a half-wall painted with what I think is intentional graffiti. On the other side of the landing are a bar and a few tables that typically serve as a hangout for Picante guests. The rest of the space is open and showcases the spectacular view beneath us.

  It’s almost as breathtaking as the man beside me.

  “It’s so pretty out here,” I whisper, taking in the stars and the way they reflect off the water.

  “You’ve never been up here?”

  “Not at night.”

  I turn around to see him. His eyes are still hooded, but something else floats around those orbs. I try to make sense of it, but in what I’m beginning to understand as typical Hollis style, he puts up a shield to keep me away.

  He grins. “Come over here.”

  I take my time as I close the distance between us.

  A breeze swirls around me as I reach Hollis. I shiver, but I’m not sure if it’s from the cool air or the heat of his stare.

  I’m on the edge of losing control and falling into his arms. It’s too easy. It feels too safe with him, so much so that it causes me to stutter-step at the last minute.

  He quirks a brow.

  You’re allowed to trust yourself. You’re capable of handling this with him. It’s a completely different situation.

  I take a deep lungful of air and stop inches in front of him.

  “Is this close enough?” I ask.

  “Honestly?” He grins. “No.”

  “How close do you want me then?”

  Hollis reaches down and pulls me up and into him. He captures my mouth with his before I realize what’s happening.

  I melt against his chest.

  Our mouths move together in perfect unison. His lips are soft yet commanding, and I’m more than willing to let him take the lead.

  Sliding my hands beneath his jacket, I rip his shirt out of his pants. I plant my palms onto his back.

  The muscles on his body are thick and developed. His back is chiseled and hard, and as I move my hands to his sides, I feel the bulge of the top of the V that makes every woman on earth crazy.

  Every move he makes causes his muscles to ripple under my touch. It becomes obvious why I have a thing for athletes—their bodies are on fire.

  My legs buckle, but he is one step ahead of me. He scoops me up like I’m a doll.

  I moan into his mouth as he takes me by surprise and parts my lips with his tongue. He explores me, staking his claim in a delightful, delicious act of desire.

  I run my hands through his hair, feeling the strands slip through my fingers.

  His assault on my lips is unending. As though he can’t bear to stop what we finally started.

  Carrying me across the rooftop, he sets me down on a lounge chair. The plastic is cold and hard, but it only barely registers. He breaks his kiss long enough to sit next to me.

  We take each other in as we pant to catch our breath. His eyes are wild as his hand grips my thigh beneath the slit of my dress.

  “You make me crazy,” he growls.

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  He chuckles, his need thick in his tone.

  His hand slips between my thighs, and he pushes them apart.

  I shimmy up in my seat and spread my knees as far as my dress will allow. I can feel my heartbeat between my legs and my desire coating the inside of my thighs.

  There’s nothing I can do about it.

  He’s already there.

  “Hollis,” I say, my body arching toward him.

  “You are wet,” he teases. “Can you feel that?”

  He swipes my panties to the side and parts my folds with his finger.

  “Mm-hmm,” I say, closing my eyes.

  He toys with my opening, flicking my swollen bud back and forth. I yelp at the contact.

  “Where did all that mouth of yours go?” he asks, grinning. “Where’s the Larissa who was goading me earlier? Huh?”

  “She’s trying not to come all over your fingers.”

  He sucks in a breath. “Fuck.”

  The lace of my panties scratches against the inside bend of my leg, creating a crazy sensation that makes me moan. He leans forward and captures the sound with his tongue.

  He kisses me like I’ve never been kissed. It’s controlled and wild and sweet and a promise of something more lascivious.

  I grind against his hand, getting both the pump of his finger and the contact with my clit. He lets me have my way—lets me use him to bring myself to the precipice of an orgasm.

  I wind my fingers in his hair as I hold his face near mine.

  He pulls away, pressing kisses across my jaw and to my ear. I toss my head back to allow him as much access as he wants.

  My hips swirl, needing more and more until Hollis buries his head in the crook of my shoulder.

  Shots are fired in my belly, and an explosion of colors bursts through my vision. My knees fall to the side as I pulse around his fingers.

  “Do. Not. Stop,” I say, each word a separate syllable.

  “So bossy.” The words are whispered over the shell of my ear. “But I have no plans on stopping, baby.”

  The orgasm keeps coming, keeps building until it becomes so sharp, so intense that I shout in response.

  “Shh,” Hollis says with a chuckle. “We don’t need to attract attention.”

  I peek open my eyes as he slows his pressure on my body.

  “Sorry,” I say, wincing.

  He presses another kiss to my lips. His eyes are filled with amusement.

  “Never apologize for that. Ever,” he says, removing his hand from between my legs. When he draws it back, it’s coated with my wetness. He holds it up in the air and grins. “Now, that’s hot.”

  “It’s not. But whatever.”

  He laughs.

  I get to my feet, emboldened by the confidence he’s given me, and pull my dress up to my waist. He watches me like he’s fascinated. I hold his gaze as I step out of my shoes and remove my panties.

  The air whips around my wet, bare skin. I keep my dress bunched with one hand, and with the other, I slip my shoulder out of the top.

  Hollis reaches over and carefully tugs it down until my breasts are exposed.

  “Oh, shit,” he breathes as he takes a pebbled nipple between two fingers. “Riss.”

  I grin at his use of my nickname. “Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to fuck me?”

  His eyes snap to mine. “There’s my girl.”

  I laugh as he gets to his feet and takes off his jacket. He throws it at the foot of the chair. He tugs his shirt out of his pants altogether and unfastens his belt with ease.

  Snap.

  Zip.

  Down goes his pants until they’re pooled at his feet. A condom appears. He remains in front of me with his cock wrapped and standing at full attention.

  “That’s impressive,” I say, grabbing it in my hand.

  “That’s better than the alternative.”

  I laugh. “Sit down. All the way back.” I shove his chest until he’s sitting in the spot I just vacated.

  “Now what?” he asks me.

  “Enjoy the ride.”

  He groans from the base of his throat as I climb up on the chair with him. He palms his cock, and I lower myself onto him.

  I take him in inch by inch, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as he fills every bit of me. He pulls a nipple into his mouth and rolls it around with his tongue. The juxtaposition of the cold air and the heat of his mouth is enough to make me want to scream in pleasure.

  He grips my hips, his fingertips biting into my skin, as I guide myself up and down his length.

  His teeth
graze my nipple before he switches to the other side. He guides me, helping set the tempo that works for him, as I slide him in and out.

  His hips flex, pressing himself deeper—so deep that it can’t go any more.

  “That’s all I can take,” I whimper, the pinch of pain so delicious that it almost topples me over the edge again.

  “Just keep doing that,” he says through gritted teeth. “Oh, my god.”

  The growl that follows comes from the base of his throat and is so gravelly, so raw that it flips a switch inside me.

  I slam down on his cock and grind myself against him. His chin lifts to the star-studded sky when I work myself in a figure eight. I lift, I tilt, and I take him as deep as I can. And when he moans his release, his fingers dipping into the curve of my hip so tightly that I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, I find my release again.

  “Hollis!” I shout, unable to contain the rush of pleasure coursing through me.

  “Don’t stop.” He moves my hips up and down as he continues to milk the end of his climax.

  His handsome features are even sharper in the shadows of the night. And to know the look on his face is because of me? That’s a high I’ve never imagined.

  Finally, his grip eases, and his movement stops. He opens his eyes, and they snap automatically to mine.

  The greens and golds are glossed over, and he looks as relaxed as I’ve ever seen him. It makes me wonder what he looks like when he wakes up in the morning.

  “I did,” he says, still inside me.

  “You did what?”

  “I enjoyed the ride.”

  I’m literally floating from how incredible this was. I more than enjoyed the ride.

  “I’m glad,” I say, aiming my best smug smile at him.

  I’m actually finding it odd that I have no regrets. Keeping my dress bunched up in my hands, I climb off him.

  He jumps off the chair with more energy than I have and takes in our situation.

  “You need to clean up,” he notices.

  I nod.

  He looks around and spots his jacket on the edge of the chair. He digs through his jacket, and something falls to the ground when he pulls out a tissue.

  “This is all I have,” he says, handing it to me. “It’s new. I just shoved it in there this morning.”

  “Thanks.” I use it to clean between my legs as best as I can. Then I drop my dress.