Second Chance Draft: A Second Chance Sports Romance (Pass To Win Book 6)

by Roxy Sinclaire

  “Of course,” he replied. “I want you to know that I would never dream of hurting you like that”

  “Thanks,” I smiled. “That really means a lot to me.”

  “Does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” he asked hopefully.

  “No,” I hesitated. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad because of you.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I think I’ve finally forgiven you for everything from our past. It’s silly for me to keep holding on to this anger for so long. I’m mad because every time I finally feel like I’m over you, I see your stupid face and I’m drawn back to you.”

  “Wow, thanks,” he said sarcastically.

  “We just aren’t good together. We will always fight about stupid stuff and be too stubborn to work out our problems,” I explained.

  “We’re working out stuff now,” he countered.

  “Yeah, but it had to take getting locked in a room to do it.”

  “You have money, you can hire someone to lock us in,” he said.

  I smiled, but I wasn’t sure if I even had money anymore. That was the real problem.

  “My family would never accept you. And I’m just not ready to be estranged from the people who raised me and gave me everything.”

  “So where does that leave us?” he asked. “If we can’t be together, how do we prevent this from happening again?”

  “There’s only a few months left before graduation,” I said. “Can we avoid each other for the rest of our college career? We’ll both move out of here, and never see each other again. All temptation will be gone.”

  Just the thought of never seeing him again made me feel empty inside. I didn’t want that, but I didn’t think there were any other realistic options.

  “I don’t think so. We have classes together and too many mutual friends. We would both have to stay home alone on the weekends and I’m not willing to do that,” he said.

  “I could limit my drinking. A three drink maximum. I’ll give everyone full permission to send me home if I try to drink more. I’m not as handsy when I’m sober.”

  “We could be friends with benefits,” he suggested.

  “How does that work?” I asked skeptically.

  “We can be intimate with each other,” he said slowly, “but we aren’t ‘officially’ dating. We leave romantic feelings out of it.”

  I wasn’t sure I could do that. Not because I didn’t want to have sex with Martin, but because I don’t think I could detach myself emotionally if we did.

  “I’ve never heard of one instance where it worked out for both people,” I said.

  “We could try,” he said, inching toward me.

  “I’ll try,” I said after a moment of hesitation, “as long as you promise that you won’t fall in love with me.”

  “Deal,” he said, placing his hand on mine. “You have to promise that you won’t fall in love with me, either.”

  I laughed. “I promise.”

  We kissed and I wrapped my arms tight around his neck. I gently pulled his short hair between my fingers. He pulled me in close to him, his arms wound around my waist. We broke apart, caught our breath and looked each other in the eyes. We both knew we were about to find out if the benefits were worth it.

  Martin

  I was a little hesitant to even bring up the idea of being friends with benefits because I didn’t know how she would respond. There was a good chance that she would be furious with me for even suggesting it.

  For the record, I didn’t want to be just friends with benefits. But if that was my only other option besides never seeing her again, I was going to take it.

  Each time we kissed it felt more and more electric. The first time, I was so nervous. The second time, she was sloppy drunk. Both were enjoyable, but nothing like this. This time, it was so right. There had been nothing but tension between us all day, and this was like a release.

  After a few long moments, she looked me hard in the eyes.

  “Take your shirt off,” she ordered.

  I quickly obliged. She ran her fingers down my abdomen. I pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her black lacy bra. She pushed my shoulders down, so I was laying flat on the bed. She straddled me and her long hair draped down into my face.

  She leaned down and started kissing me again. My hands slid down her waist until they reached the top of her jeans. I unbuttoned them, and she kicked them off onto the floor.

  “I suppose it’s time to finish what you started last night,” I teased. She flicked me hard on the nipple in return.

  She easily unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off in one tug. I pulled her flat onto me, our bodies tight against each other. She kissed my neck from my chest to my ear, pausing for a moment to nibble on my earlobe. Her breath was hot on my ear.

  “I want you so bad,” she whispered directly into my ear.

  I rolled her onto her side so we were facing each other. She wrapped her outer leg around mine. I reached around to her back and unhooked her bra in one smooth motion.

  “You act like you’ve done that before,” she giggled.

  I kissed her breasts, soft and perky. I thought back to all of the times I imagined what they looked like. They were much better in person. I fondled them, tracing my finger over her erect nipples. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

  This made me even more turned on. She could tell. She teased me, running her fingers over my underwear, feeling me out.

  “How badly do you want me?” she cooed.

  Two could play that game. I hiked her leg up higher around me and slowly slid my hand past the waistband of her matching underwear. I gently stroked her, watching her mouth drop open. She let out a soft moan.

  I moved my fingers faster and she grabbed onto my hair and kissed me hard. I stroked her even faster, wanting to see how far I could take her. She bit my lower lip and reached for my package.

  Now she was touching me, and I didn’t know how long I could last. It became a race, who could get the other to the edge of orgasm fastest. I think I won because at one point, she grabbed my wrist.

  “Take your underwear off,” she panted.

  She slid under my covers, completely naked this time. I pulled my underwear off and reached for a condom from my nightstand drawer.

  “You better check the expiration date on that thing,” she teased.

  “You laugh,” I retorted, “but all of my other lovers have been quite satisfied.”

  “Where do you think I’ll rank among them?” she said seductively.

  “I’m betting you’ll make the top five for sure,” I joked. “Maybe even the top three.”

  “I play to win,” she said, unwrapping the condom and rolling it on me.

  I rolled her on her back and kissed her. When I entered her, she gave a quiet gasp.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yes, just don’t stop.”

  I picked up the pace. She wrapped her legs around my back, digging into my upper back with her fingertips. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last. I kissed her neck and her breasts, listening to her panting get breathier and louder.

  I reached down with one hand and started rubbing her clit again. This put her over the edge.

  She closed her mouth to try to stifle her moans. For all we knew, the others were still standing guard near the door. My ministrations were too much for her and she let out a loud moan, which completely set me over the edge. I closed my eyes in complete ecstasy, not wanting this moment to end.

  When our breathing had slowed, I leaned down and gave her a kiss, then rolled over on my back. We lay there, without saying anything, for a few moments. I couldn’t help but smile. I had waited so long for this moment.

  “That was amazing,” she gushed.

  “We could have been doing that for years,” I reminded her.

  “I don’t think it would have been the same. There was a lot of tension between us, and I think that made this even sweeter.”
/>   “You’re probably right,” I conceded.

  I traced the curves of her body with my index finger. She was everything I ever wanted in a girl. She was smart, funny, a little fiery, and sexy. So incredibly sexy.

  My phone buzzed again. It was Reg.

  I haven’t heard any arguing in a while. Is everything okay? Did you work things out?

  I showed Alexa the text. She took my phone and wrote a response:

  Everything’s fine, but I think we need a little more time to talk things through. Send food.

  I laughed. It was crazy to think that just a few hours ago, I would have done anything to get out of my room. Now, I would do anything to get her to stay for as long as possible. We had nowhere to be, and I wanted to take my time to get to know her.

  I know I said that I wouldn’t fall in love with her, but I didn’t mean it. Not one bit.

  Alexa

  “What time is it?” I asked, pulling the thin sheet around my body.

  “I think it’s nearly three,” he responded with a mouthful of crackers. All of that lovemaking had worked up an appetite.

  “Are we going to stay in here all day?” I asked hopefully.

  “That’s fine with me,” he responded.

  It felt nice not to be fighting for once. I lay on the bed and watched him move around the bedroom. His body was like the sculptures I’d seen during trips to various European art museums. When he moved, I could see each individual muscle through his smooth skin. When he laughed, each square building block of his abs popped.

  When he squatted down to pick up our forgotten clothes off of the floor, I could see each quad muscle in his thigh. When he pulled me in close, his biceps bulged.

  I’d spent so much time around football players, that the male body didn’t even faze me. The team had a penchant for walking around the athletic department in minimal clothing.

  They wore cutoff t-shirts during practice that hardly covered anything. They waked through the trainer’s office in nothing but their spandex shorts. Thinking back, I couldn’t remember a time where I saw even remotely this much of Martin. I couldn’t stop looking at him.

  In my experience, when guys have great bodies, they’re lacking in some other aspect of life.

  I’d met bodybuilder types who were rude to people, jocks that weren’t smart enough to string two sentences together, and models who took themselves way too seriously. I wasn’t sure what Martin’s deficiency was. He was pretty smart, funny, and nice—once you got to know him.

  He wasn’t the kind of guy my parents would want me to marry, that was for sure. I didn’t know much about his life, but I guessed he was fairly middle class. That was his deficiency, that he was perfectly normal.

  “I think Reg and Sasha will be back with the food soon. Do you want to borrow some clothes?” he asked.

  I nodded. I had been putting on and taking off the same outfit, and I didn’t want to put unwashed clothes back on. He gave me one of his t-shirts and practice shorts. They were baggy, but incredibly comfortable. They smelled clean, but also like Martin. It was like being in his embrace.

  “Did you realize,” I started, “that Sasha and Reg have been out there, together for as long as we’ve been stuck here in this room?”

  “I didn’t even think about that,” he said.

  “I’ve been so preoccupied with other things that I haven’t even had the chance to talk to Sasha about him.”

  I felt a little guilty. There was something big happening in my best friend’s life and I hadn’t even asked her about it. She knew about everything I was going through, and always listens to everything I have to say. In any other instance, I’d be texting her immediately if I had hooked up with a guy. Especially when the sex was that great.

  “I think they’re good together,” Martin said.

  “I agree. I’ve always liked him,” I said.

  “He’s a good guy. We’ve lived together all four years. He’s had some tough breaks with girls recently, so I’m glad he’s found a good one.”

  “Really?” I said incredulously. “He’s cute. I can’t believe he has a hard time getting girls.”

  “He’s the type of guy that would rather have a serious girlfriend, rather than sleep with whoever he can. You’d be surprised how many girls aren’t looking for a relationship.”

  “I can believe it,” I said. “Relationships can be a lot of work. Sometimes it’s easier to have fun instead.”

  Martin smirked.

  “So are you telling me that Sasha is the first girl he’s slept with?” I asked.

  “How do you know they slept together?

  I laughed. “I don’t, I just know Sasha.”

  “No, he had a pretty serious girlfriend a few years ago. She cheated on him, though, and it broke his heart. He’s sworn off women since.”

  I felt bad for him. He was a nice guy. I was glad that he had Sasha.

  I felt a pang of loneliness in the pit of my stomach. They could go out in public and hold hands. They’d probably visit each other’s parents over the summer. I didn’t have that option with Martin.

  Just then, the door opened a crack and a few takeout boxes of Chinese food appeared. I could hear soft voices, a giggle, and the slam of a bedroom door across the hall.

  “Thank God!” Martin exclaimed. “I was afraid that I was going to have to eat you if they didn’t come back with food soon!”

  I raised one eyebrow at him.

  Reg and Sasha had done well. I opened containers filled with rice, lo mein, and General Tso’s chicken.

  “Aw, man” Martin said, disappointed. “They forgot forks. I’ll call Reg.”

  “No, don’t,” I said quickly. “I think they’re, uh, busy.”

  I dug through the bag to double check for silverware.

  “Here,” I said. “There’s chopsticks in there.”

  “I don’t know how to use them,” Martin said, a little embarrassed.

  “I’ll teach you,” I said.

  I arranged the chopsticks in his hand and used my hands to manipulate his.

  “Got it?”

  “I think so,” he said.

  I let go of his hand and the chopsticks crossed and slid out of position almost immediately. I tried not to laugh. I didn’t want to make fun of him, but his concentration was adorable.

  “Try again,” I said, repositioning the chopsticks.

  He managed to pick up a single piece of chicken and slowly brought it to his mouth. As he opened his mouth, it fell back onto the container, splattering sauce on his face.

  I couldn’t hold back my giggles. I found a napkin and dabbed at the mess on his face.

  “I’m going to starve,” he said dramatically. “Can I just eat with my fingers?

  “No,” I answered. “You’ll make a huge mess. I’ll help you.”

  I picked up a piece of chicken with ease and held it to his lips.

  “Is it okay if I just feed you?” I asked.

  “Normally, I would find this demeaning,” he said. “But no one is around, and I am starving, so it’s perfectly fine with me.”

  We alternated bites; one for him, one for me. There was something oddly intimate about feeding Martin like this.

  “Where did you learn how to use those?” he asked, pointing at the chopsticks.

  “When I was younger, my dad traveled a lot for work,” I said. “He liked to take me with him. We spent a month in Asia, just me, my dad, and my nanny. I tried sushi in Japan when I was ten and absolutely loved it. Let me tell you, when your first sushi experience is in Japan, every other sushi restaurant in America will pale in comparison.”

  “Isn’t that raw fish?” he crinkled his nose.

  “You’ve never had sushi?” I asked, shocked.

  “It never appealed to me,” he answered.

  “I’m so taking you out for sushi sometime soon,” I said, forgetting that we agreed there would be no “going out” at all.

  “So where else have you traveled,” he a
sked.

  “Oh, lots of places,” I said nonchalantly. “I’ve been all over Asia with my dad and I went to Australia after I graduated from high school. My mom loves traveling around Europe, so we usually go to some fancy resort once a year. My mom once took me to Paris to buy a dress for the prom. What about you?”

  As soon as I asked that question, I regretted it. He looked away.

  “Well, I certainly haven’t traveled like you. That’s for sure. My family mostly stayed in Colorado. My mom and I went camping and hiking quite a bit. Every summer she would take a week off of work and we’d go up in the mountains and pitch a tent in a campground. We’d go fishing and mountain biking.”

  I had never been camping in a tent. The thought of it seemed terrible, but I didn’t want to shatter his pleasant memories.

  “And I went to Disney World when I was eight. That was pretty awesome,” he added.

  I felt sorry for him. I bet he didn’t even have a passport. I had gone through a few passports at this point, because the pages always filled up so quickly.

  I pretended that I was full so he could eat the rest of the food. He held the box of rice up to his mouth and used the chopsticks to scrape the sticky rice into his face. For as much as he ate, it was a wonder that he stayed so trim.

  I found two fortune cookies in the bottom of the bag and handed one to Martin. I opened mine, crunching on one shard of the cookie.

  “What does yours say?” he asked while he unwrapped his cookie.

  “You will reveal a deep, dark secret.”

  “Well… what’s your deep, dark secret?” he asked.

  I thought for a moment. There were a few things that I should probably tell him about. I didn’t want to spoil such a good afternoon, though.

  “I don’t think I have any,” I lied.

  “Wow, you are a terrible liar,” he chuckled. “Spill it.”

  “It’s nothing much. You promise you won’t be upset?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “Do you remember that party at the end of last season? You guys had lost the final game and everyone was trying to drink enough to forget all about it.”