Team Player: A Sports Romance Anthology

by Adriana Locke

  “Don’t.” I scoot forward more until I’m barely on the stool. “Please don’t leave me like this, Deck.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Avery. I . . .” He gives a decisive shake of his head. “You’re not in a good place tonight and I won’t take advantage of that. I want to help you, not . . .”

  His words trail away and his eyes are distracted, following a path along my collarbone, between my breasts, over my stomach and between my legs. I spread my thighs another inch, showing him what he’s wanted for a long time and inviting him to take it tonight.

  He licks his bottom lip, a fascinating swipe of his tongue that I lean forward and mimic with my own. His pleasured groan vibrates against my mouth, but he pulls back, drawing in a deep breath and shaking his head again.

  “Ave, I—”

  I grip him by the neck and lick the seam of his lips. His jaw drops on a gasp, and I push my tongue in, exploring the warm, silky interior of his mouth. My hands venture between us, finding him lengthened, hardened. When I squeeze, he growls into our kiss. His hands, which have remained in deliberate discipline at his sides, encompass my waist. They’re so big his fingers almost meet at my back and his thumbs rest under my breasts. My nipples tauten in proximity to his touch.

  “You’re playing with fire here.” His voice emerges rough as Brillo.

  “I know exactly,” I say, my voice husky while my hand pushes up and down over his dick. “what I’m playing with.”

  “Avery, we should—”

  “Make me feel,” I cut in, steadily pumping him through his pants. “You want to help, then make me feel.”

  Tears gather at the edges of my eyes, trickling unchecked over my face and into the corners of my mouth.

  “Make me feel something other than pain, Deck.” I meet his eyes, and they reflect my sorrow back to me. He groans when my hand persists.

  “Promise me,” he finally says, searching my face. “Promise me you won’t regret this tomorrow.”

  A dissonant laugh flows out of me, misplaced in the grief and lust permeating the room around us.

  “I can’t promise you I won’t regret this tomorrow.” I stare back at him, not hiding my pain or my passion or my confusion or my need. “I can only promise that I want it like hell tonight.”

  10

  Decker

  Avery’s words, even more than her hand, grab me by the balls. The sight of her arrests my heart in my chest. I’ve wanted this woman for a long time, but knew it would probably never happen. Here she is offering herself to me on a very unexpected platter, and I’m not sure I can do anything about it. Because after all this time, I’ll be damned if I’m settling for one night with her; some drunken memory she relegates to the back of a closet and never considers repeating.

  “Deck, I just want to feel good.” Her lips tremble when she presses them to mine again. “Make me feel. Make me come.”

  “Shit,” I hiss at her brazen request. “Avery, I can’t. Any night but tonight. I can’t.”

  Surprise and hurt mingle in her dark eyes, calcifying into determination. She hops off the stool and stands, allowing no space between us so I feel the heavy heave of her breasts against my chest.

  “Okay.” She looks up at me, her mouth a stiff line set in delicate bones. “Maybe Mike can—”

  “The hell Mike.”

  My hands clamp around her waist, stopping her from walking to the door. I swallow the last of my hesitation. She doesn’t know if she’ll regret this tomorrow. I’m almost certain I will, but I lose the fight with my will, with hers, and lift her back onto the stool. She wants to feel? She wants to come? Never looking away from her face, I drop to my knees and press her open. She doesn’t resist. Her legs relax, stopping where I want them. I rub my stubbled chin and cheek along the sensitive skin inside her thighs, rewarded by the gasps above my head. The closer I get to my goal, the harder it is to breathe. The smell of her reaches my nose, unhinging my restraint. I tighten my hands around her thighs, forcing myself to go slow; to be gentle. I lift her legs over my shoulders, dragging her ass to the very edge of the stool to mouth her through the black panties. They’re already damp, and her flavor seeps onto my tongue, so sweet I can’t help but remember Sadie saying Avery could be my dessert.

  “Oh, my God, Deck.” Her words are needy and breathless.

  I don’t look up, too absorbed in the taste of her, even through silk. So potent. I nudge the panties aside with my nose, licking up her seam. She’s wet and hot and tangy on my lips. I delve into her slickness, seeking out the crown jewel tucked inside, that cluster of nerves. I suck hard, and she bucks into my mouth. The steady interplay of tongue, lips and teeth at the intersection of her body and my mouth has her hips jerking and her hand clawing my hair.

  “Ahh. Ahhh. Ahhh.” Her hips roll in tandem with me, and I glance up long enough to watch her inhibitions fall away. Her head drops back, the satin skin of her throat stretched and taut with pleasure. “Deck, I’m gonna . . . oh God.”

  I slip two fingers inside, still sucking and licking while both her hands grip my head; while she commands me like a queen in her inner court. Her legs quake against me and her body tightens around my fingers convulsively as she comes. She rides it out over my mouth, taking anything I might not be giving her. Except I’m giving her everything, and she doesn’t even know it.

  When her body goes still, and the only sound in the room is our labored breathing, I slide away from her. That’s as far as I’ll allow myself to go. She wanted to feel. She wanted to come. I’ve done that for her, but I have to get her out of here.

  “Don’t, Deck.” Her lipstick is smeared and her lips are swollen from our kiss. “Don’t stop.”

  Her hips start rocking again like her pussy is remembering what I feel like; like she’s seeking something. Seeking me. The panties still pushed aside, showing me how needy and creamy she is between her thighs. I’m shaking my head, a definite denial, but when she slides the shoulders of her dress away, her breasts are naked and perfect. Most nipples are small tight buds, but Avery’s are lengthened and plump and plum-colored, resting at the tips of her breasts like heavy fruit on a vine. I want to drink. I’m already dizzy with the taste of her, but the sight of her unravels my convictions until they are shredded into ribbons at our feet. She stands, pushing at the skirt, sliding it over her hips and legs, a puddle of silk at her bare feet. She’s only in the black panties, but even those she persuades down her body until she’s naked for me.

  She traces the tip of her finger over my eyebrows, down my nose, skims my lips, cups my jaw.

  “You really are beautiful,” she whispers, her eyes following the path her finger took. “Give me tonight, Deck.”

  I got nothing left. Any resistance melts under the awe in her eyes as she runs them over my face, as her look probes beneath my clothes. I want to show her. I want her to be as enamored with my body as I am with hers. I stand up, towering over her. I pull her bare back to my chest and walk us to the bedroom, all the way, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples, caressing her stomach, pressing my hard-on into her ass, so that by the time we reach my bedroom, her breaths are ragged, her fingers trembling when she unbuttons my shirt. I stand perfectly still, watching her eyes glaze over with every portion of me she reveals. She fumbles with my belt, but I don’t intervene, enjoying the clumsy brush of her fingers against my stomach. She opens my zipper, deliberately skimming a knuckle over me through my briefs, making my breath catch and cut in my chest. A little grin quirks one corner of her mouth when she sees my reaction. She pushes the shirt off my shoulders, leaning forward to suck my nipples.

  “God, Ave.” My fingers lace into the hair neatly gathered up, dislodging pins so it spills around her shoulders.

  She shoves my pants down, following their path to my feet, settling onto her knees. Her velvety brown eyes peer up at me, hot and hungry, as she tugs my underwear over my legs, her hands tracing the muscles of my thighs and calves.

  “Oh, my God.” Sh
e stares at my dick, elongated and thick, bobbing at the entrance of her lips. “I’m not sure I can take it all.”

  “Won’t know till you try.” I line up with her mouth. “Open.”

  Obediently, her full lips part, and I push in, groaning every inch of the way.

  “Mmmmmm.” She clumps her eyebrows together, and for a moment I think it’s too much; that it’s discomfort tightening her expression. Then she lowers her jaw, taking me deeper into the tight channel of her throat.

  “Mmmmmm,” she spreads her hands over my ass, gripping as much of me as she can. She presses in closer, rubbing her breasts over my legs in sync with her mouth, sharpening her nipples against me, using me. It’s turning me on even more.

  “Shit, you give good head,” I mumble, barely able to form coherent words. I bite my bottom lip until it throbs, a counter to the bliss happening below my waist.

  She adds her hand to the equation, cupping my balls, pulling her mouth from the root all the way to the tip and insinuating her tongue into the tiny opening.

  “Sweet mother of . . .” I grip her jaw, holding her at just the perfect angle, and fuck her mouth relentlessly, my hips a merciless cadence while tears streak over her face. I don’t know if the tears are sadness, or if she’s choking on my dick, but she won’t let me go. Her fingers lock so tight on my ass, her nails dig into the muscles.

  I will burst soon, and it will be inside of her. I carefully pull back, watching her mouth still moving for a second until she realizes I’m gone. I skim my palms over the fragile framework of her collarbone and shoulders, and then spread my hands open, just whispering the palms over her nipples again and again. Her mouth drops open, lashes fall to kiss her cheeks and she leans back onto her heels, pressing her arms behind her, the muscles in her legs strained, palms to the floor so she’s offering herself to me. I keep working in tight circles over her breasts, and her hips jerk in time with my pace.

  I lift her gently onto the bed behind us and spread her out, taking myself in my hand and pumping, making her wait. Making her watch. She moves her legs restlessly, looking for relief.

  “Come on, Deck.” She licks her lips, eyes fixed on my dick.

  I straddle her hips with my knees, letting my cock rub between her legs in tantalizing swipes.

  “Give it to me.” She reaches for it, trying to line us up.

  “You’ll get it when I’m ready, Ave.” My voice is hoarse and scratchy, and I want to be buried inside her, but draw it out for us both.

  I take one nipple between my lips, varying the suction from gentle and barely there, to rough and aggressive. All the while pinching the other and rolling the nipple between my fingers. I transfer my mouth to the other breast and slide my hand, palm flat against her belly, between her legs.

  She jerks when I peel back the lips and rub my fingertip over her clit in a swift rhythm. It plumps and tightens.

  “Damn, you’re wet,” I groan, seduced by the sloppy sounds her pussy makes when I finger fuck her.

  “I need it to be now, Deck,” she pants, stretching her legs wide and tugging at my hips. Positioning me.

  “Okay. Just one more taste.” I want her juices on my tongue when I enter her for the first time.

  “No,” she growls, her eyes narrow and her face tight with passion. “Now.”

  I can’t help but chuckle because she looks so fierce; so much like the girl who put me in my place at my locker. So much like the driven, ambitious, commanding woman I’ve come to admire from a distance over the last few years, even more up close the last few weeks.

  “Now, you said?” With no more warning, I thrust inside, and we share a gasp at the perfect fit. I know I’m big and she’s tight as hell, but it feels perfect to me.

  “You all right?” I crush the urge to slam into her, waiting for her to indicate it’s okay to move. “Are you—”

  “If you don’t come on and fuck me, Mack Decker,” she rasps, eyes half-mast and hands clenched around my ass.

  My dick twitches inside of her at the coarse words, and she grins, locking her ankles behind my back. She better lock ’em. She has no idea how hard she’s about to get fucked. I hitch an arm under her knee and grind in so deep my balls get wet.

  Her eyes go wide, and her body moves up the bed with the first few thrusts. I pump into her at full force, rocking the headboard into the wall, making the mattress moan.

  “Oh my God.” One of her hands leaves my ass and grips the sheet at her side. “This is . . . oh my God.”

  I push her knees to her shoulders, folding her back, appreciating how pliable her body is under my hands. I glance down to watch myself enter and withdraw, watch the evidence of how much she wants me on my dick.

  On my dick. Fuck.

  “Condom.” I pull out, and her face crumples.

  “No, don’t stop.”

  “Let me get this on.” I reach into the bedside table, wrap it up in record speed, and get back in there, pulling her legs over my shoulders.

  “Oh, yes.” She links her fingers behind my neck and tosses her head on the pillow. She clenches around me, stiffens with wave after wave of her orgasm.

  “I feel so much.” She stretches her neck back, lifting slightly off the pillow. Tears slide over her cheeks. “Oh, my God. It feels amazing.”

  Her eyes meet mine in the dim light, and she shows me everything. The things she hasn’t told me, the secrets that torture her. I may not have the words yet, but the feeling, the hurt shadows her pleasure and she tells me everything. The intimacy of it pushes me over, and I’m exploding, throwing my head back, gripping her hips, my body reduced to urges and instincts and thrusts and moans until I finish, sinking my teeth into the tender curve of her neck.

  I roll onto my back, keeping her connected to me, staying inside of her, our bellies kissing. Her legs fall limply on either side of my hips. She pushes up onto her elbows to study me, tears spilling unapologetically down her face. Her mouth trembles, works around sounds for a few seconds before she speaks.

  “You made me feel,” she whispers. “Damn you.”

  And then she collapses onto my chest and weeps.

  11

  Avery

  “He left a note.”

  The confession slips seamlessly into the intimacy our bodies, maybe even our hearts, made in this bed. In the darkness of this room only brightened by the skyline twinkling beyond the window.

  “What?” Deck adjusts me in the crook of his shoulder, kissing my temple and pushing my hair aside to nuzzle into my neck, too. “What’d you say, Ave?”

  He sounds sleepy. We just finished round two, and I must say I’ve never been fucked like that in my life. It was . . . possession and dominance and tenderness and ferocity taking turns, all sides of him sharing me. I love the way he arranges me exactly how he wants, pushes my legs back just so. Tips my ass up to the desired angle. Spreads me to his specifications. And then fucks me like a train.

  The man fucks like a train.

  And I’ve been railroaded; possibly ruined for everyone else. If I had known there were men out there, fucking like that, I’d have a lot more notches on my bedpost in my quest to find them.

  “Ave?” he asks again, reminding me of what I want to tell him, as much as I would love to stay distracted thinking of what we just did . . . twice. For the first time, I want to tell someone other than my therapist the secret I’ve been wearing like an albatross around my neck for the last year.

  “He, um . . . Will, my fiancé. He left a note.”

  Deck shifts, carefully pulling his shoulder from under my head so he can lie on his side. So he can see my face while he waits for me to go on. I punish my lip trapped between my teeth.

  “It was in the bathroom with my ring.”

  In the sliver of silence following my last words, I know he’s mentally assembling the pieces of this puzzle before he asks his next question.

  “You weren’t wearing your ring?”

  The question comes low and soft, a sympa
thetic query. Not a threat or an accusation or any of the things I’ve told myself I deserve.

  “No, I had taken it off a few days before.” I try to swallow, but can’t past the scalding, swollen walls of my throat. “I . . . I . . . God, I . . .”

  My breaths come in choppy heaves. I clutch the sheet to my naked breasts to keep my hands from shaking.

  “Hey, hey.” Decker cups my jaw in one big hand, brushing his thumb over the tears trickling down my cheek. “Baby, it’s okay. Take your time.”

  It’s been so long since a man called me “baby.” Since I shared any intimacy with another person. Long before Will and I ended, our sex life dried up. The casual affection of intimate touches, naked skin, bared souls and endearments had long departed.

  “I broke our engagement off a few days before he killed himself.” The admission storms past my lips as if the words know this is their last chance; know that if they don’t escape now I won’t ever let them out.

  Decker scoots down until his forehead lines up with mine, the height difference so great my feet stop at his knees under the cover.

  “I’m so sorry.” He dusts kisses over my wet cheeks, spearing his long fingers into my hair. “I can’t even imagine. Tell me.”

  I stare through the dim light, searching his face for judgment, but it’s not there; just a patient, waiting compassion. It gives me courage to go on.

  “We had been over for a long time, I think.” I squeeze my eyes tightly closed. “He suffered from depression. His medication made it so much better, but he didn’t like to take it. Sometimes he wouldn’t take it, and he wouldn’t take care of himself. He’d lose friends. His work would go bad.”