Scoring Wilder

by R.S. Grey

  "Wildcats!" we all screamed together in unison, and then the door sprung open and we were running out onto the field. It was a beautiful day in LA. The sun was shining overhead and most of the smog from this morning had cleared so that the temperature was warm and inviting. I was already sweating from our warm up, but it felt good. This is what I loved. I lived for soccer games; those ninety minutes of head to head competition fueled my body like nothing else in life.

  I ran alongside Becca toward to the sideline and looked up into the packed stands to find my mom sitting next to Mrs. Wilder. They looked cute perched next to one another, like they might have been friends for years. I waved to them both as they chanted for Becca and me. I didn't see Liam yet, but I knew he was probably still at practice.

  There was a pile of people hoarding the media box, much more than there should have been for a preseason women's soccer scrimmage. I rolled my eyes and ignored them. There was enough riding on this game without the added stress of my failures getting plastered across the Internet.

  Sofie and our co-captain stepped forward to do the coin toss, and then we took the field to cheering fans. I marked my position and shook out my arms, trying to loosen my muscles and calm my breathing. It was normal to feel nervous before a match, especially since I hadn't played an official game in months, but these nerves were in a league of their own.

  I bent forward and gripped my knees, centering myself in the moment. The media would spin their stories however they damn well pleased, so there was no point in stressing about it. My eyes focused on the blades of grass bending beneath my cleat as my resolve began to build. This was my game. The media couldn’t touch me here.

  The referee blew his whistle and in a flash, the game began.

  We’d lost the toss, but it wasn’t long until our defenders assumed control of the ball and advanced it downfield. Everything fell into sync as it should have. I worked my way into open space so Becca could pass me the ball. Her pass hit me in stride, and I used quick footwork to evade a few defenders. I was in my element, slicing through double teams and dodging slide tackles, and then I passed the ball to the next player. By half-time we were up by three and I was feeling confident. I'd executed well so far and my endurance was hardly being tested. All the late night runs and extra workouts were paying off.

  I ran off the field to sub out and when I got to the side, I looked up to find Liam leaning against the field's fence. He looked just as sweaty as I did. I guess he’d rushed over from practice instead of showering. When he saw me glance toward him, he dipped his head and sent me a confident smile. There was no need to draw any more attention than that, especially with the media's lenses pointed directly at us. I shot him a quick wink and then turned back to my team in time to catch Coach Davis’ waving us into a huddle.

  The second half passed quickly, and other than one collision with a defender for the other team, I'd played a stellar game. It felt like a rush, coming off that field with a preseason win under our belt. Coach Davis was proud of us and I'd noticed that Becca and Emily had played great as well. I knew if we kept it up, we'd definitely be contenders for the national championship. I showered quickly and put on a fresh pair of cut-offs and a flowy tank top that I’d packed in my bag.

  "Do either of you want to come with us to get dinner?" I asked Emily and Becca as we headed out of the locker room.

  "Nah, Penn's picking me up," Becca said.

  "I have a Skype date," Emily winked. She and her boyfriend probably kept Skype in business, but I couldn't blame them. I'd do the same thing if Liam lived across the country.

  "All right, I'll see you guys later then!" I waved as we parted ways. They headed toward the parking lot and I turned to find my tiny cheering section waiting for me at the base of the bleachers. I couldn’t help the smile from unfolding across my face at the sight.

  "There she is!" Mrs. Wilder cheered, throwing her hands in the air. I laughed and shook my head as they all clapped loudly. They really were making a big deal out of this.

  "For someone that hates being in the limelight you guys sure know how to put the attention on me," I joked, stepping up to the group and giving my mom a side hug. She squeezed me back hard before letting go. A bright camera flash caught the entire exchange, momentarily blinding me.

  "All right, All right. Let's go eat and we'll only talk about what a stellar soccer player you are as we walk to the car," my mom promised.

  I’d felt cheerful walking up to the group, but my endorphins from the game started wearing off as soon as I was reminded of the shuttering cameras. The paparazzi were completely impossible to ignore, even as I tried to push their presence to the back of my mind.

  I hadn’t searched my name on the internet since that night a few days ago, but I knew it wasn’t getting better. As long as Liam and I were together, I would be in front of the spotlight, and I had to consider if I was doing the right thing. I was putting a lot on the line for a guy that was probably as ready to commit to a relationship as George Clooney was.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Thursday evening, I was standing in Liam's kitchen starting on dinner. Both of our moms had left the day before, and we were finally going to get some alone time. He was due home from practice any minute, which is why I was moving around the room like a madwoman trying to get everything prepared.

  I was making lasagna and a salad that my mom had given me the recipe for. My first idea had been to cover myself in rolls of sushi and let Liam eat them off of me, but Becca said she didn’t want to picture my naked ass every time she tried to order a California Roll. Some kind of friend she was. I threw some cranberries and walnuts on top of the salad, and then popped the lasagna into the oven just as Liam opened his back door.

  Show time.

  I closed the oven and twisted around to spot him standing in the doorway. He’d showered after practice and was wearing worn jeans and a white t-shirt. I smiled down at my own wardrobe. I'd slipped on a pair of skinny jeans that I knew would drive him insane and a blue v-neck that was comfortable, but sexy.

  His hair was still damp from the shower and he had one sexy brow arched at the sight before him.

  "I'm preparing a feast," I announced with a flourish of my hand.

  "I see that. It smells awesome," he complimented, dropping his workout bag and keys on the table and continuing toward me. "I like this sight as well."

  "The mess?" I asked, gazing down at the cheese, pasta wrappers, and the cutting board with chopped up tomatoes and onions. There was tomato sauce spilled on the counter as well. Had I managed to put anything actually in the damn lasagna?

  He stepped closer still, coming to stand right behind me so he could wrap his arms around my waist.

  "No. You in my house when I get home from practice," he answered, eliciting a wave of goose bumps.

  "It was fun, like I was playing house in someone else's kitchen,” I shrugged. “I swear I'll clean all of this up."

  He chuckled and spun me around so that my back was to the counter. "We'll clean it up. What's in the oven?"

  "A lasagna," I answered, feeling his lips briefly make contact with my neck. It was enough to elicit a soft moan.

  "How long do we have until it’s done?"

  I cocked a brow as his hand drifted beneath my shirt. "About an hour. I just put it in."

  A seductive smile spread across his lips and I suddenly knew I was in trouble.

  "Well, I've had almost a full week without getting to touch you and I'd like to make up for that," he said, lifting my shirt and skimming his hands upward, over my ribcage and breasts.

  I lifted my arms up over my head and cast him a devious smile as he pulled off my shirt and tossed it onto the kitchen table. His gaze drifted down to the swell of my breasts peeking out of my black bra and his eyes narrowed slightly at the sight before him. High five, Mrs. Victoria Secret.

  I dropped my hands to undo his jeans and then I pushed them down his long toned legs. Everything about him was worthy of w
orship, but those soccer legs made my sexual prowess shine. I let my hands drift over his thighs and back up, watching as he hardened beneath his black boxer briefs.

  He was every ounce of man, and as I scored over his body, I realized that I wanted to be completely taken by him. He tugged his shirt over his head and then reached down to wrap his hands around my biceps, pulling me to my feet. I didn't have time to catch my footing before his hand was dipping down the front of my jeans. He unbuckled them and the zipper gave way as his finger sank into me. My mouth fell open, but no sounds escaped. He slowly withdrew his finger before sinking into me again.

  "This is what I've been dreaming about all week," he murmured, dipping forward to steal a kiss. His lips were hungry and demanding; he possessed my mouth and I tried to keep up, but he overwhelmed my senses. He kept sliding in and out of me, slowly at first but then picking up the pace. I felt myself crawling toward an orgasm just as his thumb started spinning soft circles. He had masterful hands and the pad of his thumb might have been my favorite part of his entire body.

  He withdrew his mouth from mine just as his fingers sped up their pace. He leaned back and watched my reactions to what he was doing like he was a voyeur. It felt sinfully sexy to have him watch me come. I licked my lips, trying to dampen the dry flesh, just as a shudder ran through me.

  "Come for me, baby. Let me watch you."

  My blue eyes met his grey stare and a spark caught fire inside of me. I came around his fingers, leaning back against the counter and moaning his name over and over again.

  There was no time to recover. I was still feeling the echoes of the orgasm as he stripped off my jeans and panties and spun me around so that my hip bones met the counter. He flicked off my bra and shoved everything on the counter aside so there was room for me.

  "Holy," I whispered as I felt him push himself against my exposed flesh. I'd never had a man take me the way he did. He didn't ask for permission. When we were making love, exploring each other, my body belonged to him like he had the sole rights to it.

  "Bend forward, baby.”

  I gaped at his sexy command, but nevertheless, I felt myself bending forward. The cold granite countertop pressed against my breasts, but I didn't shirk away from the slight sting. I was too busy concentrating on his fingers spreading my entrance and appreciating my beauty.

  He groaned behind me and then slid down onto his knees to lap me up with his tongue. I bit down on my bottom lip, but soft moans still escaped me. My fingers gripped the edge of the counter as he licked me slowly, dragging his tongue from the very base of my entrance all the way back up. He used his palms to spread my legs out even further, baring every ounce of my flesh for him. I thought my hands would break off the edge of the granite I was gripping down so hard.

  "You are the fucking sexiest thing I've ever laid eyes on," he swore, leisurely stroking me up and down. I picked my head up off the counter and spun around to see him rubbing himself with one hand while exploring me with the other.

  God, I wanted that image burned into my memory forever.

  "Have you ever been taken this way before?" he asked with a controlling stare. His words were dark, but they sparked something inside of me that needed to hear them. I loved his easy confidence. His absolute ownership of the situation.

  I shook my head no and he dragged his gaze up to my eyes.

  "Hold onto the counter," he instructed as he removed his boxer-briefs. He was hard and throbbing. I could remember exactly how he'd felt the last time we'd had sex: like my body couldn't decide if he was tearing me apart or building me back up. I didn't care. I needed him inside of me again or I'd scream. Maybe I’d end up screaming either way.

  He unrolled a condom and then positioned himself back against me from behind. One hand gripped my hip tightly, the other reached up and wrapped around my neck so that I couldn't turn away from him. I appreciated the support. My head started to feel heavy, but with his hand there I could watch him shove into me slowly at first, and then in one quick thrust, I felt all of him inside of me, spreading me open and crashing into my world.

  "Oh my god, Liam," I moaned as he settled into me, not moving at first but letting me get accustomed to his size.

  His eyes were dilated in lust and each of his features seemed even sharper and more in control than usual. His freshly shaven face gave way to his strong jaw-line, his chiseled cheekbones, and his perfectly pouty lips.

  He slowly withdrew and I shuddered. I could hardly catch my breath and the position he had me in wasn't helping. Then he thrust back into me, hard, and I cried out. It was pure bliss.

  It was all the goading he needed. He tightened his hold on my waist and started pounding into me from behind. My body rocked into the granite with each roll of his hips. His movements were so quick and controlled. There was no time to process each thrust before he was starting on the next. He was fucking me in every sense of the word and I felt my body blooming with lust and desire.

  He picked up one of my legs and pushed it onto the counter. The movement forced a plate off the edge and it fell to the floor with a loud clap. Neither one of us cared as Liam continued to seduce my body.

  He pulled me up so that my back was pressed against his front. His hand wrapped around my throat and I twisted around to steal a kiss. His tongue met mine as my hips bounced back onto him. The first shocks of an orgasm raced through me and suddenly I had to come. It was on the horizon and I couldn't let it wash away.

  "Oh, don't stop. Don't stop," I begged as his hips met mine. Even when he thrust into me quick and hard, his movements were calculated and smooth, like he was using his hips to curl into me.

  "Fuck," I moaned as one particularly seductive thrust rubbed directly against a sensitive bundle of nerves. I gripped the back of his neck as an orgasm overtook me. My stomach quivered and he groaned huskily into my ear, drawing out even more pleasure. He came just after I did. He'd hung on long enough, and when he spilled himself into me, I shuddered as the feelings threatened to consume me.

  "Liam!" It felt like too much, like my body wouldn't survive the deliciousness of our lovemaking.

  He fed off my desire, rocking his hips into me until we were both falling to pieces on the kitchen floor. Our bodies slumped down and I fell on top of him with uncontrollable, delirious laughter.

  "I mean, seriously, that is not even fair. How do women walk away from you?" I asked as my head rested on his chest.

  "They don't," he quipped, making my heart stop.

  His words were meant as a joke, but I knew they were far from it.

  They don’t.

  What the fuck had I been thinking, falling in love with a guy like him? Not two months ago I was swearing off the male race all together. I couldn't have found a nice, humble guy who was my age and didn't have sex like it was his life's calling? How stupid was I to put my heart on the line for the third time?

  I laughed at the thought. That wasn't true; I'd never put my heart on the line with Trey and Josh like I was doing right now with Liam. Liam wasn't something you chose to do or not do; he was like a virus, invading your system and taking root without your permission. He did it to every female in the United States, and sadly, I was no different.

  I pushed off the ground and shot him a small smile before heading toward the bathroom to wash up before dinner.

  "Kins?" he asked, standing up and tossing away the condom.

  I shot him a wave and kept walking. I felt tears burning the edge of my eyes and I realized that having that revelation directly after making love had been a bad move on my part. I always felt a little more vulnerable after mind-blowing orgasms. Maybe I just needed a few minutes to collect myself.

  I could feel his presence behind me and I knew he'd catch up to me before I reached the shower. I hurried my pace as I walked into his bathroom. Then I saw the separate room with the toilet and ran straight for it. He couldn't follow me in there. I locked the door and sank down onto the seat folding my head into my hands.

&nbs
p; He didn't knock right away. Maybe he wanted to give me the chance to calm down, or maybe he thought I was actually using the facilities. But when I didn't come out even after I’d flushed and stayed inside for a few more minutes, his voice drifted through the solid wood.

  "Kins, are you okay?" he asked with such sincerity that it only made my tears even harder to push down.

  "Yes... just regrouping," I answered honestly.

  "Could you regroup with me? What's wrong, babe?" I could hear his body slide down the wall next to the door and I knew he wasn't going to budge until I came out.

  "Will you be honest with me if I ask you something? Completely honest?" I asked, stepping closer to the door and resting my forehead against it.

  "Yes. Just tell me what's going on. We'll fix it."

  I took a deep breath and prepared my heart for the wrong answer.

  "Am I being naïve to trust you? Seriously, Liam, you have to be honest with me, I can handle the truth… what I can't handle is getting into another relationship with a guy who doesn't respect me enough to be honest."

  He sighed on the other side of the door. "Kins, get your ass out of that bathroom and talk to me face to face."

  I mashed my lips together in annoyance, but twisted the knob and cracked the door open. He was still gloriously naked, sitting on the ground, staring up at me with earnest eyes.

  Once I'd cracked the door slightly, he reached forward, pried the wood out of my hands, and pushed the door open completely. I jumped slightly, but he shook his head as if to tell me to calm down.

  "I am not Josh. I will not hurt you. I was joking in the kitchen. I'm just a normal guy, Kinsley. I want what any other guy wants: to have a girlfriend that he loves and who loves him in return. I want there to be trust between us, and I want us to be open with one another. We haven't reached that point yet. I know I have to work to undo the crap other guys have done to you, but please don't shut me out. I can't change your past, Kinsley."

  I nodded and finally felt the tears streaming down my cheeks.