by Virna DePaul
"Does this mean we have a deal?" Zoe asked, stifling a moan as her fingers raked through Gabe's still wet hair.
Gabe mumbled a 'emhmm' against her naked breast and proceeded to show her why he was going to be the best damn deal she ever made.
Chapter 15
A month after Zoe surprised Gabe in the shower, they were sitting in Pete’s again. Their six-week commitment had officially come and gone, and now Gabe and Zoe were working together indefinitely. It hadn’t taken long before his indecision about where their relationship might lead them was officially a thing of the past. Far from being a hindrance to his football career, Zoe just continued to help him be the best he could be. As far as he was concerned, he couldn’t see that ending any time soon, and the same went for their personal relationship.
They went to Pete’s often, just to eat, sink back a few beers, and catch up with her brother and Murph. Turned out the reason Murph had been MIA all summer was because she’d found herself a hot accountant and had been spending lots of time with him.
“It’s been great,” she told Gabe and Zoe. Gabe listened with a good degree of wariness because he knew the more beer she had, the more details she’d give, which Gabe wasn’t sure he wanted to hear. “We fuck pretty much twice a day, and he’s totally into butt stuff, which is cool, you know, considering most men aren’t. I’m talking about him, by the way, not me.”
“God, why am I hearing this?” Gabe covered his eyes, tried to unsee the image of Murph doing “butt stuff” to her new beau, who thank GOD he hadn’t met yet, or else he’d never see him the same way again.
“Wait,” Zoe interjected, “so you mean he’s the one into…you know…” She widened her eyes and Gabe had to laugh. Zoe was no angel. The woman liked it hard and rough, a fact which belied her innocent appearance and totally made her an awesome match for him.
Murph shrugged. “Yeah, it’s no big deal. A lot of guys like to be tied—”
“What the fuck? I am not hearing this,” Gabe said, dropping his forehead onto Zoe’s shoulder.
Zoe laughed and patted his back. “What’s wrong? A lot of guys like to be dominated. With the right woman.”
“Is Zoe the right woman, Gabe?” Murph taunted.
“Jesus, this only gets worse.” He shook his head.
Zoe’s quick exchange of glances with his sister did not go unnoticed. They were fucking with him hugely, and Gabe was secretly happy they were getting along so well. It was a relief not to have to keep his feelings for her hidden. Though they hadn’t appeared as a couple in any press events, they weren’t shy about showing affection at places like Pete’s. Once the media found out about them, they’d probably make a bigger deal about her being the daughter of Kip Reynolds than about the Bootleggers’ new wide receiver being in a relationship.
“Anyway, it’s a very healthy sexual relationship, but I’m not sure if it’s anything else,” Murph said with just the smallest hint of sadness. Gabe watched his sister take a silent sip of beer. Even though Murph had always been open about her relationships, having multiple partners, and never allowing anyone to shame her for it, he wondered if maybe she wasn’t ready for something more. Something meaningful.
As Zoe and Murph went on to talk about other things, Gabe watched Zoe, pretending to be listening to the conversation but contemplating just how far he and Zoe had come in their relationship. They spent most of their time together but didn’t mind giving each other space either. They had fun together, enjoyed just talking, and the sex was out of this world. However, Zoe still had moments of sadness that she didn’t open up to him about, and she still hadn’t introduced him to her father yet, and Gabe had figured out weeks ago that the two things were probably related.
He’d tried harder to get her to open up, but when he did, she’d pull away, and the last thing he wanted was Zoe pulling away. He’d tried talking to Pete, too, but Zoe’s brother had been having none of it. Finally, Gabe had tried Googling Kip Reynolds, but had found nothing on the internet that was troubling or gave any hint at why her father might be responsible for Zoe’s periodic bouts of sadness.
Gabe didn’t like it. It made him want to punch a hole in the wall when Zoe was unhappy and his hands were tied to do anything about it, especially because she was the one tying his hands, refusing to open up to him. But he told himself that their relationship was new. They’d only known each other for two months now.
He needed to be patient. Live in the moment.
And hope that Zoe trusted in him enough to let him fully in sometime soon.
Gabe didn’t know what movie was on, and he didn’t care. All he cared about was that Zoe’s sexy shape was backlit by the onscreen colors as she straddled him on the couch. This had become a regular thing between them, having a drink at Pete’s, then coming home, putting on a movie and watching it for about ten minutes before attacking each other.
Her breaths came short and staccato, as she rode his cock, grinding her soaking wet pussy onto him. With her tits pressed into his face, and her little puffy nipples grazing his cheeks, he nearly gave up the ghost and came inside her after only a few minutes. A miracle considering that alcohol usually delayed his performance, but Zoe was just incredibly sexy. His hands gripped her perfect ass, encouraging her to keep bouncing over him.
When it took her a little longer to come, he tapped her back. “Turn around for me,” he said. She licked her lips, dismounted, then resumed her straddle with her back facing him.
“I wanted to watch you, not the movie,” she laughed.
“And I want to watch this juicy peach.” He slapped her ass a few times, was rewarded with her grinding on him a little faster, sweet moans, and her leaning down to grip the coffee table. Her ass splayed out for him to marvel at, and maybe it was the conversation they’d had with Murph earlier about “butt stuff,” but he lightly ran his thumb over her anus and watched closely for her reaction.
She groaned into her arm then fucked him harder and faster, muttering things he couldn’t decipher, but in the month’s time since they’d first had sex, he’d learned a lot of them by heart: fuck yes, fuck me harder, love it, fill me, fill me with your big cock, and this one surprised him the most—fuck my ass harder.
Now…he hadn’t fucked her ass at all in the time they’d been having sex. Yes, he’d done it a few dozen times in his fantasies considering the backside she’d been blessed with (and taken care of through plenty of squats), but something about pounding her from behind brought out the idea that he was pumping her ass full of cock. He’d taken this as a good sign for anal play and intercourse in the future, hopefully, if she was open to it and not just muttering sexy things to make herself come.
And she certainly seemed to be open to it because when he slid the tip of his finger inside her ass, she came, her pussy quivering and gripping him hard. Her high pitched cries of release filled the vaulted ceiling, and he could see her knuckles whiten as she gripped the coffee table. In that moment, he imagined he was fucking her in the ass for real, and he came, too, shooting his cum into her with incredible force.
Something about this orgasm shook him to his core. It was the perfection of the evening—going out for drinks with Zoe, having fun (albeit mortifying conversations with his sister, someone he cared about), having sex with an amazing woman who cared about him, and the fact that he no longer thought of the Noise or his trade to Savannah as a tragic event.
Because if he hadn’t been picked up by the Bootleggers, he never would have met Zoe. And Zoe was so damn good for him.
Everything was going good, and for a moment, that suddenly scared the shit out of him.
In an instant, he imagined the rug being swept out from under him.
Not so much on the playing field but with Zoe. He imagined being in this brand new house without her and thought about how lonely such an existence would be. He imagined no workouts together, imagined himself having to move to another state without her, getting traded once again because such was the life of
an NFL player. Would she go with him?
He still had his eyes closed and was catching his breath when she felt him curl up against her, skin all humid, warm, and cozy. “You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. Then, because he really wanted her to open up to him about whatever had been troubling her, he took a chance and said, “I’m just thinking how good things are and…and how good things tend to go away when you least expect it.”
She sat up to get a better look at him as he spoke. “You mean like with your career in Chicago, don’t you? Because that’s perfectly normal since you’ll be playing against the Noise in a few weeks.”
He nodded.
His old teammates would be there. His old coach. Friends and family of Chicago players he’d come to be friendly with. But you know who else would be there too? He could almost hear his sister and Zoe’s voices talking him off the ledge—your new friends, your new family, your new teammates and coach, people who’d been good to him since he’d arrived.
People he’d finally opened up to and connected with, something that had only happened after Zoe had pushed through his protective barriers and reminded him how damn good it felt to truly connect with and trust others.
“I know it’s normal and I know I’ll be fine. I’m just happy, and I guess I haven’t been for a long time. I don’t want that to end.”
“Gabe, life’s all about change. Some good, some not so good. But if you’re happy now, focus on that. Worrying is like praying for the things you don’t want. Don’t waste your energy.”
He liked that—it fell right in line with what he believed about universal energy and law of attraction to begin with. He’d take it as a sign. He gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Damn, you’re smart.”
She giggled. “I’m smart. I’m sexy. And you know what else I am?”
“What’s that, peach?”
“I’m happy, too. You make me happy, Gabe.”
He gave a low growl and pulled her into a deep kiss, one that lasted a long time.
Chapter 16
It was a few days before his game with Chicago, almost three months after he met Zoe, that it happened again.
It was Zoe’s day off, and she’d said she was going to spend time at Iron Maiden, then meet some girlfriends for lunch before running some errands. They’d made plans to meet up for dinner at one of their favorite restaurants, but just as Gabe was getting into his car to head over there, he got a text from Zoe saying she wasn’t feeling well and would it be okay if they just stayed in.
Gabe didn’t mind. He loved alone time with Zoe. But part of him knew that when Zoe came home, she would be subdued. Sad. And unwilling to discuss the reasons why. He just wasn't sure what to do about it.
Should he push this time? Because he was damn sick and tired of her shutting him out when he’d opened himself entirely to her, even going so far as to tell her a couple of weeks ago how afraid he was that something was going to steal his happiness away. She’d talked him through that, and he wanted to be able to help her with whatever she was struggling with too.
But when Zoe came home, she looked drained. Exhausted. And the last thing he wanted was to put more pressure on her. So he simply cooked her dinner and put off confronting her—again. They had time and he’d be patient, but not for much longer. Whatever was eating at Zoe like a slow poison? He was going to pull it out of her and soon.
After dinner, Gabe told Zoe that he was going to run her a bath. He was in the bathroom, getting ready to do just that, when he felt her place a hand on his shoulder. He turned but before he could say anything Zoe kissed him.
There was desperation in her kiss and he pulled away, not because he didn’t want her, never because of that, but because Zoe meant more to him than just sex. He wanted to talk to her about what she was feeling. What she needed. She didn't have to be strong all the time. Not with him, and he wanted her to know that. He loved that she was strong, that she could work out harder than most professional athletes he knew, that she liked it rough and raw in bed. But right now, sensing her emotions and her vulnerability, he wanted to treat her like a delicate flower for once, pressed petals between book pages that needed to be handled with care.
Zoe wanted none of that. She clung to him, her mouth ravenous, her hands exploring his body in a frenzy of need. “I need you,” she said in between her kisses. “Please, Gabe. Please. Fuck me.”
Just as always happened when Zoe begged for it, Gabe’s resolve shattered. He couldn’t refuse her. Trying to deny her when she needed him would be like trying to prevent molecules from interacting: impossible.
He backed her into his bedroom and pushed her against the wall, nearly knocking over a picture frame. His hands cupped underneath her heart-shaped face as he tasted her lips and tongue. Whatever was troubling her, as well as his frustration that she wouldn’t share it with him, were temporarily forgotten.
He swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed, where she sat up and started unbuttoning her pants. “Let me do that,” Gabe grunted.
“Why?” she moaned.
“Because you’re a goddamn gift and I want to unwrap you.”
Quickly, he stripped her naked and took a moment to admire her.
Her body was so fucking tight and sculpted. Her nipples blushed a soft rosy color, and Gabe cupped one breast, squeezed it softly then did the same to the other one. Zoe cupped her small hand over his big one and squeezed even harder, dropping her chin back to let out a soft moan. He squeezed her other breast harder too, eliciting even more groans from her.
“You like it when I do that?” he asked, though he knew the answer. Zoe loved a rough touch. He just wanted to see her nod and gaze at him through foggy, glazed eyes. “What about this?” Carefully, he pinched both nipples softly and tugged while watching her reaction. Again, she bit her lip, and he watched her chest moving up and down.
He drew her in tighter, pushing one of her tits into his mouth, licking at her nipple. As her heart pounded against his cheek, he sucked on her and ran his hand along the contour of her backside, the curve of her lower back, and the round plumpness of her ass.
He turned her on her belly to admire her from behind. “Look at this ass. Fucking perfect,” he said, squeezing both ass cheeks together and watching them fall back into place.
“Is this why you’ve dubbed me Georgia Peach?” She gave him a coy look over her shoulder.
“You got it,” he said, burrowing his teeth into her flesh as if to take out a chunk but softly nibbling her instead. “You even taste like one.”
She whimpered and turned around, offering him a view of her hand sliding down between her legs, instinctively trying to relieve the pressure, and opening her legs up to him. The warmth, the heat inviting him in, the musky scent of her pussy…it all felt like an overload of goodness, and Gabe felt compelled to thank someone—God, the universe, whoever out there was responsible for giving him this woman. From the way her manicured fingers spread open her folds, showing him her peachy-coral folds like the smooth walls of a conch shell, he knew what she wanted. And so he did what any man would and should do in the same situation when presented with the secrets of a goddess—he buried his face between her thighs and got to work.
Zoe whimpered as Gabe’s sexy jawline pressed rough short stubbled beard against her skin. She felt his warm smooth tongue press softly against her clit, and she nearly lost it. Her response was to close her eyes, hoping that by not seeing Gabe pressing his nose into her pussy, she’d be able delay her orgasm by at least a few minutes.
She needed this time with Gabe to last. Needed to be able to block out the real world—including the horrible visit she’d had with her dad earlier.
Gabe started with slow licks. She moaned as electric impulses ran up her legs into her belly. She peeked down to see him with his eyes closed also, breathing in the scent of her. He brought one hand up to spread apart her lips so he could better access her clit and licked her harder. The same hand slipped down
the center of her folds and swirled around the wetness beginning to drip down her inner thigh.
“So fucking wet,” he groaned.
Zoe couldn’t help but open her legs a little wider.
“Aw, yes,” he murmured. “Give me that sweetness. Smother me. Come on, peaches.”
His words sent her somewhere beyond, somewhere where rules didn’t exist, and people could say whatever they wanted without consequence, a place where sexy-as-fuck football players bent to her every whim without flinching, and she was in control—she was.
Zoe bit her lip again and bore down on his face, sliding her hand into his thick hair and guiding his tongue back and forth along her clit. Rubbing her whole pussy against his face.
“You love eating pussy?” she ventured to ask.
“This pussy,” he responded without missing a beat. “Sweet and delicious.”
Oh, God.
Her muscles tightened and worked toward climax.
“Open your mouth,” she commanded. “Show me that tongue.”
He did so immediately, like there was nothing humiliating she could do to him that he wouldn’t absolutely love. With her knees bent, she ground her pussy against his face, slathering him with glaze. Gabe shook his face from side to side, getting good and sopping wet and covered with her juices, continuing the onslaught of his tongue against her clit.
The orgasm came blindingly hard, and she cried out, still gripping his hair, locked in this knot with his hand holding onto her ass, the fingers of his other hand slipping into her to feel her contractions from the inside. His tongue still wide and flat, he gave her a few last soft licks to extend her orgasm as far as it would go, but she drew back and collapsed on the bed, trying to catch her breath as the last of the waves subsided.
Gabe collapsed on the bed next to her, raging hard-on pushing through his pants. When she slid her hand over the bulge to help him take care of it, he gently took her hand and held it in his.
