Trying to Score

by Kendall Ryan

  “Holy shit, this master bath is insane,” she says, wide-eyed. There are two vanities and a separate water closet, a free-standing tub that I’ve never used, and a glass-enclosed shower with four showerheads.

  “Yeah, it’s a little ridiculous.”

  She holds her arms straight out at her sides and does a little spin. “This is the size of my bedroom.”

  We end the tour back in my bedroom, where I haven’t bothered to turn on a light since the dim hallway light provides enough light to see by.

  “And this is where the magic happens,” I joke.

  She smirks, pushing aside the crumpled white duvet that’s been flung haphazardly across the mattress. “I can see you still don’t make your bed.”

  “God, no,” I say earnestly. “Total waste of time.”

  Her mouth lifts in a half smile as she watches me.

  “Did you want dessert? I still have that peanut butter ice cream we didn’t get to the last time.”

  My brain lodges on the words last time . . . That night we were too busy getting it on in my bed—which looms a mere three feet away. A detail my dick hasn’t failed to notice.

  “I think I’m in the mood for something else.”

  I take one step closer, my dick getting harder by the second. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she says, her eyes flashing with heat.

  Moving closer, I take the glass from her hand and set it on the table beside my bed. Then my hands are cupping her cheeks so I can draw her forward, bringing her lips to mine.

  Our mouths meet, softly at first, our kiss tentative. But then her lips part and she brings one hand to the back of my neck, threading her fingers into my hair, and it’s all the encouragement I need.

  At the first wet pass of her tongue against mine, I taste champagne, and her, and a choked gasp escapes me. And then my hands are on her hips, dipping underneath the waistband of her sweatpants until I can grip the curves of her ass in my hands.

  Using my grip on her, I haul her close until she can feel the hot, hard evidence of my arousal between us.

  “Teddy.” She gasps when my mouth meets the sensitive skin of her neck.

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “I want you,” she says, sighing. “All of you.”

  “Then have me.” Urging her hand between us, I press it over my erection, and Sara groans and gives me a firm squeeze.

  “You have the perfect dick,” she murmurs as a bolt of electricity zaps down my spine.

  “It’s available at any time,” I say with a groan.

  “Stop talking,” she says, stroking me again through my pants.

  I’m damn good at following instructions. My mouth gets to work, kissing and sucking and nibbling at each new inch of skin I expose as Sara is methodically stripped of her T-shirt and bra. She drops back onto the bed, working her pants off as she shimmies up the mattress toward the pillows.

  “Are you coming?” she asks, watching me with a hooded gaze.

  16

  * * *

  Everything

  Sara

  Teddy is standing before me, and all the air feels like it’s been sucked from the dimly lit bedroom. I’m finding it really freaking hard to breathe.

  A lazy, confident smile spreads across his face, and his T-shirt does nothing to hide all that well-defined muscle.

  I draw an unsteady breath, watching as he undresses.

  I’ve always known how big and muscular he is. Believe me, it’s ingrained in my mind, but watching him strip just for me is messing with my head. Watching those muscles flex and jump as more and more smooth, tanned skin comes into view is torturous, and I never want him to stop torturing me.

  And when he gives his pants and boxers a shove, and I see his thick erection ready just for me? It’s too much, and not enough all at once. I can’t wait to get my mouth and my hands all over his deliciously sinful body, but more than anything, I can’t wait to feel him inside me again.

  He grins when he catches me watching with lust-filled eyes. “See something you like?”

  “Don’t be dense. Get over here.” I crook my finger at him, beckoning him forward.

  Keeping my walls up is the only way to make sure I don’t do something stupid like fall in love with him. And cheeky quips and mocking jokes are the best way I know how to do exactly that. Because a man like Teddy would be so damn easy to fall for, and I know there would be no coming back.

  It was a lifetime ago that we were together like this. Back when he was the hot, goofy hockey player who made me laugh until my stomach ached and always wore a big smile just for me. It was forever ago, but my body’s reaction to him right now makes it feel like it was just yesterday.

  What Teddy doesn’t know is that the laughs we shared in college meant the world to me. I was young and terrified of failing. I was the first in my family to go to college and on a full academic scholarship. He’d provided the best kind of stress relief, both in and out of the bedroom, and for that I would forever be grateful. Just being near him was cathartic, and to be honest, it still is.

  Teddy edges closer to the bed before crawling up over me and bringing his lips to mine in a tender kiss.

  Kissing him now, I realize why his kiss has stayed with me all these years. His mouth is soft, yet firm and insistent, and he kisses with the same skill he plays hockey, which is to say at a pro level.

  The warmth of his tongue touching mine takes me right back to all those years ago—tucked into his narrow dorm-room bed, feeling the heavy weight of him pressing into me, and the sensation of his hot breath on my neck when he told me he was about to come.

  “Where’d you go?” he asks, eyeing me curiously.

  I blink up at him, my cheeks flushing under the intensity of his gaze. “Hmm? Nowhere. Sorry. What were we talking about again?”

  Teddy laughs, the sound deep and way sexier than a laugh has any right to be.

  Threading my fingers behind his neck, I steer his mouth back to mine, his smile still lingering as our lips meet. He’s intoxicating, his peppermint scent swirling and mixing with the champagne on his tongue.

  And in an instant, I’m drunk on him. No one has ever affected me quite like this, and while I may not understand it, I can’t get enough. I tug him closer, desperate to feel his skin against mine. Even an inch of space between us feels like a mile right now, and I want nothing between us.

  As our kiss deepens, Teddy’s right hand moves between us, and a breathy moan escapes my lips as he drags one finger lazily through me.

  “Jesus, babe, so damn wet,” he growls against my neck.

  I rock my hips ever so slightly, and he takes my cue to keep touching me. Gently, he eases two fingers into me, and my gasp tears through the bedroom. I move against his hand, desperate for more contact.

  “What do you want?” he asks, offering his suggestion by curling his fingers and tilting his hips so the pressure of his erection pushes against my belly.

  I inhale sharply, trying to find the words to tell him what he already knows.

  No, it’s not what I want, it’s what I need. I’ve waited enough years to feel him inside me again. But now, with us stripped completely bare in his bed, I think waiting even another minute might do me in.

  When I finally steady my breath enough, my response comes out somewhere between a sigh and a confession. “Everything.”

  He shifts his weight over me, adjusting until his gaze is level with mine. “Everything?”

  I float one hand down to his length and brush my palm against him, feeling him grow even harder against my touch. “Yes. I want you, all of you.”

  He brushes his lips against mine, lingering there, close enough that I can feel his exhale. “Your wish is my command.”

  He steadies his weight on one muscular arm, the other reaching for his bedside table. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s doing, but when I do, I tug him back, shaking my head.

  “I was just going to put on a—”

  “I know. But
I’m on the pill.”

  “And I’m clean,” he says without missing a beat, and I believe every word he says, because I know he’d never put me in a harmful situation. “We could go without, but only if you’re okay with that.”

  I run my thumb along the gentle curve of his jawline, the scratch of his scruff sending a flutter through me. The last and only time I let a man go without a condom was when Teddy and I filmed our sex tape. It seems only fitting that this time, our first time in years, should be exactly the same.

  “I’m more than okay with it. I want to feel you. All of you. Everything.”

  It’s an invitation he seems more than happy to accept.

  Once he’s resituated himself over my body, I slide my heels up, bending my knees to accommodate him. He strokes himself a few times for good measure, the slightest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he positions himself against my opening. Then, inch by delicious inch, he sinks into me, his breath hissing out from behind his teeth.

  Holy freaking moly. Teddy King feels every bit as good as I remember, multiplied by a thousand.

  I grip his hips, pulling him into me, urging him to move faster, but he resists, keeping his strokes slow and deliberate. My back arches as I meet each of his strokes with the slightest thrust of my own, accepting more of his length each time. The word “fuck” tumbles out of my mouth a few times, but beyond that, I’m rendered speechless. There’s no way I can focus on the English language right now.

  Actually, I can’t focus on anything but the feel of him moving inside me, especially with those hot, abandoned sounds he’s making. Or maybe it’s the way his warm breath ghosts over my neck, or his strong, calloused hands skim over my curves, squeezing my hips and ass. And his eyes—God, those eyes—give me a look that’s equal parts hungry and mesmerized as he gradually moves faster and deeper.

  “Sara . . .” He groans, reaching down to draw circles around my clit with his thumb.

  I twitch beneath him, sensitive to his touch, then settle into his pace, his thumb and his thrusts working together in one perfect, glorious rhythm. It’s hypnotic. Perfect.

  Everything within me tightens and tenses as he takes me closer and closer to the edge. I’m fumbling to find my grip anywhere—his back, his shoulders, the sheets. There’s nowhere I can hold to keep from completely unraveling beneath him.

  With one final, whimpered moan, heat pours through me, and I come undone in a tidal wave of pleasure. Teddy follows only moments behind, emptying into me before collapsing into my arms and burying his face into my neck.

  “Wow.” I sigh, completely breathless, and reach for words I don’t have. “That was . . .”

  “Everything?” Teddy suggests, lifting his head and pressing a gentle kiss against my collarbone.

  I smile. “Yes. Exactly.”

  “You feel exactly like I remember,” he whispers, looking deep into my eyes. “Absolutely perfect.”

  The heat in my cheeks deepens as I stare at him. “So do you.”

  After a few minutes of cuddling in our post-sex bliss, Teddy squeezes my thigh twice, as if to pull me back into reality.

  “Why don’t you go make use of that fancy shower I’ve got?” He nods toward his bathroom door. “I’ll grab us some snacks and meet you back in bed.”

  My eyes widen. A chance to use that amazing shower? He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

  I nod excitedly, then scramble out of bed and toward the bathroom for what will be the best shower of my life. As I clean myself up, my body tingles, reminding me exactly where Teddy has been. I can’t stop smiling. I sigh in bliss while all four showerheads pour hot water over my body.

  When I return to the bedroom, squeaky clean and wrapped in a fluffy white towel, Teddy is waiting in bed in just his boxers. At the end of the bed is a folded worn-in Ice Hawks shirt, which I assume is for me. On the nightstand is Teddy’s post-sex midnight snack of choice—two pints of peanut butter ice cream.

  “Please tell me you weren’t thinking about that ice cream the whole time we were having sex.” I laugh, slipping out of the towel and into the T-shirt. It’s nearly a dress on me, but it’s soft and comfy and smells like the man who’s letting me borrow it. Yum.

  He shakes his head, patting the space in bed next to him. “I promise that all thoughts of ice cream were replaced with absolute disbelief that I had the single most gorgeous woman on the planet naked in my bed. Now come on. I can’t eat all this by myself.”

  I give him a knowing look as I cozy up next to him. “Um, TK? I think we both know you could take down five pints of ice cream alone. But I appreciate you sharing. Because I can easily eat my own pint.”

  He grins as he passes me a spoon and one of the containers, then taps his pint of ice cream against mine. “Cheers. To the best sex I’ve had since our film debut.”

  His words slide through me, warming my cheeks. I don’t know if he’s being serious, but the compliment settles into my chest and renders me momentarily speechless.

  I pop the lid off and scoop up a spoonful, then slide it between my lips. It’s the perfect amount of sweet with just a touch of salty. Kind of like Teddy.

  I guess I like my men the way I like my ice cream. In bed, and all to myself.

  • • •

  I slip into a dream where Teddy and I are hiking through the Rockies in Denver, so far off the grid that it’s only snow as far as we can see. We’re laughing and kissing our way up a mountain, our gloved hands intertwined. And then suddenly, Teddy’s phone starts ringing and ringing, so loud that it’s echoing through the mountains.

  How could he possibly get cell service out here?

  A few more rings, and I’m pulled out of my sweet snowy dream and back to reality, where the white blankets are literal, not figurative, and Teddy’s phone is buzzing like crazy from its spot on the dresser.

  I roll over to face Teddy. His eyes are hooded, but I can still see the look of confusion behind his heavy eyelids. “Did you set an alarm?” I half ask, half groan.

  He shakes his head sleepily, confirming what I already know. Teddy has told me numerous times in the past that he never sets alarms, especially not when he doesn’t have practice. With all the early morning scrimmages he has, his body wakes him up naturally at an ungodly hour, regardless of what day it is and whether or not he has anything to be awake for. Which means if he’s still asleep, it must be insanely early.

  I peek at the clock on the bedside table. Four forty-five a.m. Teddy’s a popular guy, but who could possibly be calling him at this hour?

  He pushes back the covers and swings his feet over the side of the bed as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. When he grabs his phone and gets a look at the screen, the longest, most frustrated sigh pours out of him.

  “Teddy?” I sit up, craning my neck as I try to sneak a peek at his screen. I can’t read anything from this distance, but I can tell he has about a million and one notifications.

  And suddenly, the pieces start to come together in my head.

  There’s one very good reason why his phone would be blowing up this early. A very personal reason that we’ve been doing preemptive damage control on for a few weeks now.

  I bite down hard on my lower lip and ask the question I wish I didn’t have to ask. “TK? Is it—”

  “Yeah.” His voice is strained, like he’s trying to keep from exploding. “The bastard leaked the tape.”

  I hug my knees to my chest as I watch Teddy scroll through what looks like hundreds of texts and missed call notifications. The room is spinning, and it feels like my heart is lodged in my throat. No matter how many times I gulp, it won’t go back down to my chest where it belongs.

  Our sex tape is officially available for anyone to see. Every kiss, thrust, and moan we shared is no longer just ours anymore. It’s everyone’s. Moments ago, I was lost in a blissful dream, and now? Now I’m living a literal nightmare.

  I want to be comforting, to ask if he’s all right, but I can’t even speak with the tor
nado of worries spinning through my head right now.

  What will our friends think? Worse, what will my parents think?

  I shake that one off, reminding myself that Mom and Dad are too old and uninterested in hockey to ever catch wind of this. So that’s two people on the planet I don’t have to worry about having a completely changed opinion of me. Only seven billion or so left to stress over.

  And yet, out of those seven billion people, there’s really only one who matters to me in this moment. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, scrubbing one hand anxiously through his bed head while the other grips his phone, his eyes firmly locked on his screen as the texts continue to pour in.

  “Shit.”

  One little word from him is all it takes for me to understand everything he’s feeling. Overwhelmed. Panicked. Defeated. Angry. I’m feeling it all too.

  “We’re going to be okay,” I finally manage to say. It might be a lie, for all I know, but it’s the best I can do right now. “I promise, we’re going to be okay.”

  “You’re going to be okay,” he says, correcting me. “Your name isn’t mentioned. The video is just called Teddy King Sex Tape. It doesn’t say a thing about you. There’s no way it will even be on your boss’s radar.”

  I wait for the sigh of relief to come, but it doesn’t. My heart remains firmly lodged in my throat, and my shoulders pressed up against my ears.

  Sure, I might get off easy. But what about Teddy? How can I relax knowing his whole career might be crumbling right in front of me?

  We’re in this together because I was an eager participant when we decided to step into the realm of homemade porn. Sure, I might get by with some mildly uncomfortable feelings if my name stays out of this, but that’s nothing compared to the possibility of Teddy losing his offer from Denver and his sponsorship deals.

  Logically, we knew the possibility of this happening was extremely high. A cease-and-desist letter isn’t enough to keep some random person on the internet from wreaking havoc on the life of a hugely successful—and let’s not forget rich—celebrity he doesn’t know. I’m sure all he saw was dollar signs when he looked at Teddy.