Trying to Score

by Kendall Ryan

  The evening passes too quickly, and after feasting on steak and crab cakes, Sara is seated beside me in my car and we’re cruising toward her place. She doesn’t seem to realize that her comment at the party struck a chord within me. After fiddling with the radio until she finds a song she likes, Sara hums along to the music, looking out the window at the passing streetlights.

  When we reach her place, I park at the curb and turn in my seat to face her.

  “Are you coming in, or what?” she asks, her voice low and seductive.

  My mouth twitches. “Are you going to try and take advantage of me, Dawson?”

  “I don’t think I’m going to have to try too hard, King.” She climbs out of the car and walks toward the stairs, and I quickly follow her like a goalie chasing a puck.

  We’re barely inside the door before my lips are on her neck. The lock clicks behind us, and I press her back against the wall, lifting her chin toward mine.

  “Been thinking about kissing you all night,” I whisper.

  “Were you waiting for a formal invitation?”

  “Not really.” I kiss her hard and deep, desperate for my mouth to be on hers. Sara parts her lips, and the moment her tongue touches mine, my cock jumps to attention.

  Her hands wander under my jacket, and she runs her palms down my chest, her breath coming out in sexy little pants. “Bedroom.”

  “Yeah,” I say on a groan.

  She slips off her heels and leads the way to her room, not bothering to turn on any lights until we reach our destination. Pausing only long enough to flip on a small lamp on her dresser, Sara’s back in my arms, kissing me again within seconds.

  My hands skim over her curves, and I make a frustrated sound. “Where the fuck’s the zipper on this thing?”

  She chuckles. “On the side.”

  Her fingers help mine, and together we draw the dress down over her body until it puddles at her feet and she can kick it off. Dressed only in a pair of nude-colored panties and matching strapless bra, Sara gives me a challenging look.

  “About time you lost the suit,” she says.

  I happily comply, stripping down so fast that she’s chuckling as she watches me toss everything over the side of the bed, including my black socks. There’s nothing attractive about a naked man still wearing socks.

  She crawls toward the end of the bed where I’m seated, and when she drops to the floor between my feet, all the air leaves my lungs at once.

  With her blue eyes on mine, Sara lowers her mouth to my cock and presses a soft kiss to the almost painfully swollen tip.

  Jesus.

  I’m going to disgrace myself.

  Realizing most of her lip color has worn off, I touch her cheek, stopping her. “Go get your lipstick.”

  She looks up at me in confusion.

  “Please,” I say, and this time she does, hopping up to retrieve the gold tube from her clutch on the dresser. “Put it on.”

  Sara parts her lips and reapplies the color. Then she stands before me in her panties and bra, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, and those full lips painted a vibrant pink.

  Damn. She’s stunning.

  “Now come here.” I crook my finger at her and Sara obeys, crossing the room until she stops before me. My heart rate triples as I watch her sink to her knees again.

  Gripping my length with her right hand, she treats me to another soft kiss, then two.

  “Get me all messy,” I say on a pant.

  Watching her kiss a teasing path down the length of me, I forget how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything other than make choking, gasping, pleading sounds for her to take more of me. Babe, please. And then she does. Parting those gorgeous lips, she sinks down, and my length disappears into that hot, wet mouth of hers.

  Fuuuck.

  “That’s it,” I murmur, touching the soft tresses of her hair while my entire body goes rigid. “Just like that.”

  Sara dives in with enthusiasm, treating me to the best blow job of my entire life while I watch with a half-lidded gaze.

  Lipstick stains on my skin, kiss marks along on my thigh and, oh fuck, on my cock. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get this visual out of my head. Not that I’d ever want to.

  I’m gone for her—big freaking time.

  12

  * * *

  Minty Fresh

  Sara

  “Feel good?” I ask, batting my eyelashes up at Teddy.

  He watches me with half-lidded eyes, his expression smoldering like he’s trying to hold himself together. But it doesn’t stop the groan that pours out of him as I gently cup his balls with one hand and thumb his swollen tip with the other. I love seeing him like this—so totally blissed out—and knowing it’s all because of me.

  “Fuck, babe.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Too good.”

  I lower my mouth again and almost smile—well, if my mouth weren’t otherwise occupied, that is. Because Teddy King tastes exactly how I remembered.

  As I bob my head in time with his gentle thrusts, the lingering minty taste of his bodywash is all too familiar. He’s used the same brand for years now. And with every passing second, with every inch deeper I take him into my mouth, I develop more and more of a taste for peppermint.

  I look up at him and suction my lips a little tighter against him. He moans and clutches my hair in response.

  God, he’s so impossibly sexy when he moans. It makes it nearly impossible to concentrate on what I’m doing. Momentarily, I ease him out of my mouth, working him over with my hand.

  His muscles tense, a sure giveaway that he’s getting close, and suddenly, all I want in the world is to see him come totally undone for me. My lips part and I welcome him back into my mouth, a return that earns me a low, throaty hum of approval.

  “That’s perfect.” He pants out the words, his eyes slowly sinking closed. “Like that. Nice and slow.”

  I follow his sexy instructions, taking my sweet time to run my tongue along every inch of his shaft until I’m sucking flirtatiously on the tip. I’m not usually this enthusiastic about having a dick in my mouth, but watching Teddy, who’s normally so cool and composed, tense and groan at the mercy of my mouth is more than hot. It’s sort of a power trip.

  Tonight was a torturous game of look but don’t touch, and I’d been eager to get Teddy alone, as crazy as it was. And while tonight might have been about Becca and Owen, Teddy was the standout in the crowd. When he got closer, wrapping his big, firm hand around my waist, towering over me with his massive frame, something inside me shifted. A hot pulsing low in my core. And God, he smelled divine. Like soap and cologne and man. Greedily, I drank him in. His broad chest and shoulders, those sculpted biceps pulling at the sleeves of his shirt. I wanted to climb him like a tree. It didn’t matter that I told myself he was off-limits; our chemistry was undeniable.

  He hardly makes it a few slow moments before I can feel everything in him tighten against me. He can’t take it anymore. Fisting my hair in his hand, he plunges into my mouth for a few final thrusts before groaning he’s going to come, and then empties himself in wet, hot bursts down my throat.

  After, I sit back on my heels and allow him a moment to collect himself, waiting patiently on my knees as he catches his breath and uses his forearm to wipe the sweat from his brow. When his eyes finally flutter open, it’s to give me a sexy look that, if I weren’t already sitting down, would knock me right on my butt.

  “What?” I tilt my head and smirk up at him.

  For a second, I don’t think he’s going to say anything. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and shakes his head, then finally breaks the silence with a snicker.

  “What do you mean, what?” He laughs, still sounding slightly breathless. “You know exactly what.”

  I shrug. “Maybe. Or maybe I just want to hear you say it.”

  Teddy cradles my face in his hands, running one thumb along my lower lip. The goose bumps are instantaneous.

  “You are
absolutely incredible, Sara Dawson. That’s what.”

  Leaning down to my level, he sweeps his lips across mine in a quick, airy kiss, then tugs me up onto the bed next to him.

  “Come on. You’re the one who made partner, not me. You should be the one getting treated like royalty.”

  “Royalty, huh?” I tease, tracing his jawline lazily with my fingertips. His stubble is pleasantly rough against my skin. “Is that how I just treated you?”

  “There’s not a king in history who has ever gotten head that good,” Teddy says, his voice entirely serious. “Guarantee it. If there was, we would’ve read about it in every freaking textbook.”

  A bubbly laugh spills from my lips. “Somehow I feel like they wouldn’t include oral sex as a critical historic event for students to memorize.”

  Teddy shrugs. “They would have if it was ever as good as that.”

  I’ve got a full arsenal of comebacks that could further this debate, but I don’t get so much as half a second to use one.

  In one swift movement, Teddy is suddenly on his feet, tugging me to the edge of the bed and taking the same spot on his knees that I occupied moments ago. He tugs my panties down my legs and helps me untangle them from my ankles like he has all the time in the world to worship me. My strapless bra comes next, and then I’m bare before him. Every ounce of air escapes my lungs as he slides two fingers against me, groaning in appreciation of how wet I am.

  “God,” he says on a strained sigh. “So wet for me.”

  And he’s right. It’s all for him. My eyes sink closed, and I murmur my approval at the soft, exquisite way he’s touching me.

  “Don’t you dare close your eyes,” he whispers.

  My breath catches as my gaze meets his. His piercing green eyes are hungry, and I’m the only thing on the menu.

  He curls his fingers within me, and I buck in pleasure as he applies the perfect amount of pressure to the softest spot within me. He hasn’t forgotten my body and or how to give me exactly what I crave. As his fingers move, he lowers his mouth to my center, touching his tongue against me.

  Shit. My back arches against my will, and I squirm and shake beneath him, my heart rate climbing until it’s all I can do to grab his shoulders and hold on for dear life.

  But it doesn’t matter how hard I hang on or how desperately I want to make this last, to freeze time in this moment with Teddy working magic between my thighs and me, gripping his muscles tight.

  I want to hit PAUSE. To stay here forever. But a few expert laps of his tongue and I’m gone, riding out the hot waves of my orgasm as I come completely undone for him.

  My muscles are still twitching with pleasure as Teddy rejoins me on the bed, pulling my body close until I’m folded into him in what has to be the best post-sex cuddle session I’ve ever had.

  Well, the best and the shortest. Just when we find the perfect fit of my curves against his frame, his stomach grumbles to life against the small of my back. I shift out of his hold to turn over and shoot him a smile.

  “Hungry?”

  He smirks. “Always. But I may have worked up a bit of an appetite. Any chance I can raid your pantry?”

  I chuckle. I love his honesty. Love how casual and relaxed we are together. “Go for it.”

  While Teddy tugs his dress pants back on, I forgo the dress I had on earlier for a much comfier option. Cue the slouchy, worn-in T-shirt and running shorts.

  For a second, I consider suggesting that he could keep extra clothes at my place for these kind of situations—I have an empty drawer in my dresser practically calling his name—but I catch myself before the words come out of my mouth. Leaving clothes at each other’s apartments is a telltale sign of a serious relationship. For a fake relationship for the public eye? Not so much. But with all the faking it for our friends along with the cameras, I’m starting to lose track of what’s real and what’s not.

  In the kitchen, I head for the fridge and grab myself a bottle of water, gesturing for Teddy to make himself at home in the pantry. And he does. Once I show him where to find the snacks, he wastes no time rummaging through my shelves.

  “Do you have anything that’s not organic?” he half whines, pushing aside the bags upon bags of dried fruit and nuts I keep my kitchen stocked with.

  I set my water on the counter and fold my arms over my chest, instantly on the defensive. “What’s wrong with organic? I think there are some tortilla chips and salsa in there somewhere.”

  Teddy chuckles as he snags the unopened bag of chips from the back of the cabinet. “You’re telling me you’re a lawyer, one of the most stressful jobs out there, and you don’t even have comfort food to come home to?” He shakes his head in disbelief as he pops the seal on the salsa jar. “I’m going to have some comfort food delivered here to keep us both sane.”

  Between the two of us, we manage to demolish most of the bag of tortilla chips and half the jar of salsa in under thirty minutes. I had almost forgotten what it takes to feed an athlete. By the time we’re down to the crumbs and broken chips, it’s nearly midnight, and I can’t hold in my yawns anymore.

  “I guess I should hit the road.” There’s a twinge of disappointment in Teddy’s voice as he checks his watch and springs to his feet.

  I nod, trying to conceal the fact that I’m a little bummed to see him go. I had fun with him tonight. We both try to make our kiss good-bye last as long as possible before Teddy eventually has to go, promising he’ll text me tomorrow.

  After his car pulls down my street and out of view, I head for the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I’m silently congratulating myself for maintaining my nighttime routine despite my exhaustion. I could have fallen asleep halfway through dipping a chip in salsa.

  But I make it to bed, pleased to discover that my sheets still smell a little bit like Teddy. A comforting minty smell that lulls me straight to sleep.

  13

  * * *

  Reality Check

  Teddy

  “You looked good out there today,” Coach Dodd says in passing, his eyes barely lifting from his phone, even if the tone of his voice is as sincere as I’ve ever heard it.

  Tired after the grueling practice, I grin and thank him, then turn for the weight room to squeeze in some resistance training with a little more pep in my step than before.

  “Slay all day,” Asher says, tipping his chin at me when I enter. He’s about as subtle as an elephant in a phone booth, but I guess he heard Dodd’s praise.

  “I guess I’m just well-fed today or something.” I shrug.

  Asher chuckles and grabs two fifty-pound dumbbells, stationing himself at a bench across the room. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

  He’s right, though. I performed well today, finding Parrish’s five-hole twice in practice, which almost never happens, and then assisting the rookie Landon with a nice goal too. Hell, I even kept up with some of the younger guys when we did suicide sprints, which I normally hate.

  The truth is, you’ve got to be on in practice when you know there are two teams looking at you—one of which being Denver, the city where my aging grandfather lives. I can’t afford to be sloppy or get complacent, even if I am having a hard time picturing myself moving across the country just when things have gotten interesting between Sara and me.

  Obviously, the chemistry between us is combustible, but it’s more than that. We have a lot in common too—high-pressure jobs, the same group of friends, aging parents, and a dirty sense of humor. Not to mention our odd love of chain restaurants . . . which reminds me, I should totally surprise her at some point and drop off chicken wings at her place. I can only imagine the smile that would greet me if I did.

  My cell phone vibrates from the floor beside me, and I grab it, answering it immediately when I recognize the Colorado number. “Hello?”

  “Mr. King? I’m calling about your grandfather Joe,” a female voice says firmly.

  My stomach drops and I sink onto the nearest bench. “Is h
e okay?”

  Asher shoots me a worried look from across the gym, and I squeeze my eyes closed, mentally preparing myself for horrible news.

  “He’s okay. But he took a little tumble this afternoon. An ambulance transported him to the hospital to make sure he didn’t dislocate his hip in the fall. He’s okay now. Nothing is broken; he’s just a little shaken up.”

  My hand shakes as I clutch the phone to my ear. “Can I speak to him?”

  “He’s napping now, but if you call back in a couple of hours, then absolutely. I know he’d love that.”

  “Okay. I’ll call back. This number?” I ask, double-checking.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Thanks for the call. And I’ll, uh, try to fly out there in a few days.” I have no earthly idea how I’ll make that happen with back-to-back away games coming up, but I’ll try to make it work.

  At this, the nurse pauses, going quiet for a moment. “With all due respect, Mr. King, I’m familiar with your position and your travel schedule. I may be overstepping now, but I really don’t think your grandpa would expect you to do that.”

  At this, I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, he’ll probably be a pain in the ass about it when I show up, but I’ll be there all the same.” As soon as I can figure out how the hell I’m supposed to fly to Colorado with my already hectic travel schedule.

  “Okay. Sounds like a plan, Mr. King.” Her voice is chipper and slightly mollifying.

  “Thanks,” I say, ending the call, and try not to punch the weight bench as I heft myself up.

  “Everything all right?” Asher asks, handing me a bottle of water while his eyebrows dart up on his forehead.