Beneath the Stands: An Enemies to Lovers, Best Friend's Brother Romance (Sugarlake Series, Book Two)

by Emily McIntire

  I move my free hand lower, tracing her collarbone, fingers dipping into her sinful cleavage. “Or maybe here? Want to get on your knees like a good girl, and let me paint these perfect tits with my cum?”

  “I don’t get on my knees for anyone,” she breathes.

  I chuckle, my hand cupping her breast before continuing my path down. Reaching under her dress, I slip into her panties, dragging my fingers through her folds. “Here?”

  She sucks in a breath, her wild curls mashing against the wall as she pushes into my hand. My dick is leaking like crazy, pulsing with every word I say.

  I need to fuck her so bad.

  I dip my fingertips inside her, just slightly, before sweeping up to rub against her clit. She’s soaked, drenching my hand. “Is this all for me?”

  “God, Eli. Just fuck me already.”

  Her plea makes my lips curl and my length grow. “Damn, you’re pretty when you beg.”

  Smirking, her legs unwind from around me, her hand diving into my pants, fingers circling my cock. “Not as pretty as you’ll be.”

  She works me with one hand while the other unzips my slacks, pushing them down along with my boxers until my thick erection bobs between us. I glance down, growing dizzy from want at the sight of Becca’s hand on me. Lifting my face to the ceiling, I try to think of something to calm me down. I need to regain some damn control.

  “What’s the matter, baby, cat got your tongue?”

  My nostrils flare as she twists her hand around my tip. “Just letting you have your fun.”

  “Seems to me like you’re all talk. What happened to the big, bad Eli from a few seconds ago?”

  Her words stoke the flames in the pit of my stomach and I shove her back, my hands gripping under her ass and lifting, setting her on the edge of the counter. She spreads her legs, moving her panties to the side, her pretty, pink pussy exposed for my viewing pleasure. I grip myself, stroking lewdly, sparks igniting in my pelvis from having her eyes on me. From knowing she likes it.

  She opens her mouth to speak but my hand slaps over it, muffling her words. “I’ve had about enough of that mouth of yours.”

  I line myself up and slam inside her. She moans, the sound vibrating my palm.

  There is no tenderness here. No taking our time. This isn’t making love.

  My thrusts are deep and hard, our hips smacking on each forward movement. Sweat beads along my brow and I watch as it drips onto her skin.

  “You like the way I feel inside you?”

  She wraps her hands around my wrist and pulls, placing my fingers back on her throat. My balls tighten.

  My girl likes it rough.

  My other hand tangles in that fiery hair, elongating her neck as I pull. Her eyes roll back and my cock jerks inside her. My movement stutters as she clenches around me.

  I suck her earlobe in between my teeth. “Tell me how you want it.”

  She leans up, her tongue licking the sweat off my neck. “With you desperate and needy.”

  My thrusts increase in speed, tightness coiling deep in my gut. “I’ve been desperate since the moment I saw you, baby girl.”

  She pushes me back, hopping off the counter. My dick weeps at the loss of her warmth. Flipping around, she bends over, sliding her panties down her legs. “Then maybe you should show me what it feels like.”

  Seeing her ass bare and her legs spread sends a shot of desire spiking through me. I step into her, my tip sliding through her lips, torturing us both.

  “Not until you tell me,” I whisper.

  Our eyes lock in the mirror. My chest swells at the knowledge that in this moment, she’s mine.

  “I want you to fuck me hard and make me come.” She hesitates. “And then I don’t want it to ever happen again.”

  My heart squeezes, but I ignore the ache. She’s right, after all. This can’t go on after tonight.

  I slide back inside her, picking up the same deep, fast pace. My palm lands harshly on her cheek, her ass jiggling, the smack resounding in the air.

  “God. Yes. Do it again,” she moans.

  “You need to be punished, Rebecca? For that insolent fuckin’ mouth of yours?”

  I smack her harder. Heat simmers in my groin as I stare at the pink imprint of my hand.

  She mewls, her pussy fluttering. I reach around, palming her tit, my lips next to her ear. “Come for me, baby girl.”

  She does. Immediately. Like she was waiting for me to say the words. My eyes snap to her face in the mirror, needing to see my effect on her. It’s a thing of beauty, watching her fall apart on my dick. She bites her hand to stifle her scream, and the sight of her in the throes of orgasm pushes me over the edge. My balls draw up tight, my cock exploding violently, pumping my load deep inside her.

  I collapse on top of her, panting, the aftershocks of my orgasm tingling through my body.

  Knock. Knock.

  “Hey, hurry the fuck up! You’ve been in there forever!”

  Becca’s eyes widen as they meet my reflection, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. She giggles. It’s infectious and I can’t help but laugh, my forehead resting against the small of her back.

  Christ. This girl makes me crazy.

  I wish I could keep her.

  15

  Eli

  I have no idea what the hell to say as we get redressed, so I say nothing. I just lean against the cold concrete wall—knocks still pounding outside the door—watching as Becca tries to unsmear her makeup. Our eyes meet in the mirror.

  “You know… you’re lucky I’m on birth control.” She wipes a finger under her lip.

  My stomach drops. I was so lost in the moment of finally being with her that it wasn’t even a thought in my mind.

  I grimace. “Yeah, logical thought wasn’t really happening. I’m sorry.”

  She stares at me for a second, rubbing her lips together. “It’s okay.”

  Heaving a sigh, she spins, leaning against the counter I just fucked her on. My dick twitches at the memory.

  The door bangs again from someone’s fist, only this time we don’t laugh. My chest wrings tight knowing when we walk out of this room things will go back to how they were. Becca twirls her hair around her hand and starts to leave. I step in front of her before she can twist the handle.

  “Wait. Are you… are things—” I blow out a breath.

  She gives me a small smile, shaking her head. “Eli, don’t.”

  My jaw clenches and I nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

  She pushes past me. My stomach twists. I grab her wrist, her pulse jumping under my fingers.

  She stops, sucking in a breath. “Let me go.”

  “Shit.” I drop her arm. “I just… can we try and be friends? There’s no rule against that, is there?” I’m grasping at straws and I’m confident we both know it, but I can’t go back to the way things were. Not now. Not after this.

  She gazes at me, chewing on her lip, those fingers playing in her strands of hair. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from grabbing her face and kissing her.

  She finally nods, a small grin peeking out. “You wouldn’t be the first asshole I’ve been friends with.”

  Something that feels a lot like relief pours through my veins, loosening the knot in my stomach and dousing the lump in my throat.

  “I’ll see ya later.” She cracks the door and slips into the crowd.

  A girl bursts through, scoffing when she sees me. Maybe I should be embarrassed. It’s obvious what we were up to. But I can’t find it in me to care, so I give her a big smile and squeeze by.

  Connor and Sarah are in the same spot I left them. Both of their heads snap in my direction as I walk up.

  Connor’s eyes widen as he looks me up and down, a smirk lining his face. “Hey, buddy. Where ya been?” His voice is loud, straining over the sound of the music.

  I paste on a grin, not caring how obvious it is that my hair is damp from sweat and my clothes are wrinkled. “Just needed some air.”

 
; Sarah leans over, resting her hand on my arm and speaking into my ear. “I ordered you another drink.”

  “Thanks.” My nerve endings are sensitive from being burned by Becca’s touch, and I grit my teeth to keep from jerking away from Sarah’s.

  I thought fucking Becca would get this need out of my system. Let me regain some damn sense.

  It wasn’t like this back when we were kids. Or maybe it was and I was too focused on the ball to notice. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I indulged in the temptation, and now I need to take whatever this feeling is and tamp it down. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am. Being involved with a student will definitely mess that up. Only... she doesn’t feel like a student to me. She feels like more. I shake off the thought, reminding myself that she’s out of reach.

  But it doesn’t stop my eyes from scanning the room, searching for a hint of fire.

  It’s finally practice season. Thank God. I’ve been busy preparing drills all day, and I’m looking forward to my schedule being busier. No downtime to focus on impossible things. D1 basketball is no joke, the crème de la crème in both coaching and players. There’s no time for distractions.

  I’m repeating that fact like it’s a damn mantra when I see her. I’m in my office, the glass windows looking to the outside, and she’s walking by with Jeremy. She’s grinning wide—a genuine, toothy smile. My chest twinges, wishing that smile was mine. I watch them until they disappear, the green slime of jealousy dripping down my heart.

  Shaking it off, I try to focus. It works for a few minutes, but before long, my mind strays back to the couple on the sidewalk. Tossing my pencil onto the desk, I sigh, searching my computer until I find his profile.

  Jeremy Higgins

  Senior

  I stop reading. What the hell am I doing?

  My exhale puffs out my cheeks. I need to get over my issue with him. He’s the point guard. The “floor general.” The de facto leader of the whole damn team. I won’t let my petty feelings get in the way of coaching him to his full potential.

  I walk onto the court floor thirty minutes later and the nerves take over, washing away the remnants of my jealousy. Players are spread out, some stretching, others shooting hoops. The smell of basketball is in the air.

  Coach is standing off to the side talking to Becca. My stomach jumps as I make my way toward them.

  “Eli, how ya doing?” Coach asks.

  My eyes glance at Becca. I was worried things would be awkward after my dick had been living its best life inside her, but she doesn’t seem phased by my presence. “Feeling great, Coach. Ready to get this season started.”

  He slaps my back, bobbing his head. “I’ll introduce you to the team then let you do a little speech. Get the boys ready to go. Let the freshmen know this isn’t high school ball.”

  I nod, my clipboard at my side. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and I bounce on my feet, my whistle jostling against my chest.

  I’m ready.

  Becca snorts and my head whips in her direction. “What’s so funny?”

  Her hand covers her mouth, her green eyes sparkling. “Nothin’ funny. You’re just cute. Bouncin’ around like a little boy on Christmas mornin’.”

  My lips curl up and I take a step toward her. “Cute, huh?”

  Her eyes roll. “Don’t let it fill your ego, big head.”

  I tap my clipboard against my leg as I stand there like an idiot, smiling at her. She fidgets under my gaze, looking around the room. “So this is it, huh? Time for me to shine with all this newfound ballin’ knowledge I got.” She taps her head.

  “That’s right. Don’t let me down,” I tease.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it… sir.” She smiles, walking away.

  My cock jumps and my head spins.

  For the first time in my life, I want to say fuck basketball. I’d rather steal her away and show her all the ways she makes me feel.

  But not everything in life goes the way you want. So, instead of chasing after her, I lock it up tight—just like everything else—and head to greet my players.

  16

  Becca

  I’ve been praying like a whore in church, which ironically is what my hometown thinks of me. All weekend, I’ve been hoping this feeling that tugs me toward Eli would disappear now that I’ve given in, but it hasn’t. And Lord, did I give in. I knew I would the second he stormed through the bathroom door and gripped my throat like he owned me. His filthy words whispering in my ear, and the way his strong hand pressed on my pulse was intoxicating.

  I thought sex would be the water to our fire, but turns out it was gasoline. I realized I was in trouble the second I laid in bed, reaching my hand up to my neck, desperate to recreate the feel of being under his palm. Even worse, he wants to be friends, and like a dumbass, I agreed, still dick-drunk and not able to think through the orgasm fog.

  My thoughts are only reaffirmed as I stand with the other student managers while Eli talks. The rest of the team is huddled, sitting on the cold wood floor, eyes rapt on the man in front of them. He has this way of grabbing the energy in the room and controlling it without any effort. Almost like it can’t help but want to sink into his skin and stay there for a while. Unfortunately, I can relate.

  His hands are on his hips, and his gaze moves over every player while he talks.

  I came prepared for the excitement at seeing the team come together and practice. I am not prepared for how my heart swells while Eli stands in front of them, his passion pouring out on the floor.

  “Let’s get this out of the way so we never have to bring it up again. I’m Elliot Carson, for those of you who don’t know me.”

  “Everyone knows you, Coach,” a player calls out.

  Eli rubs a hand on the back of his neck. My skin prickles with jealousy that he’s feeling the touch I crave.

  “Maybe so.” He chuckles. “In any case, I played ball in Ohio then was drafted to New York. I was hurt, and unfortunately, it ended my career. I don’t really have much to say about it other than things happen for a reason. If I wasn’t injured, I wouldn’t be here to coach you guys, and I’m damn thankful I have the opportunity to be at your back.”

  “It wasn’t your dream to play?” another player asks.

  Eli nods. “It was. But…” He blows out a breath, his gaze locking on to mine. “You can’t always have the thing you want most. Sometimes, no matter how bad you want it... it’s just not meant to be.”

  I suck in a breath, my heart pinching so tight and my stomach flipping so fast I’m worried I’ll pass out.

  His eyes linger before he finally breaks our stare. “Anyway, that’s enough about me. I’d rather focus on you. Some of you have been here. You’ve put your blood, sweat, and tears onto this court every day. You’ve earned your spot on this team, and the respect of your peers. I want you to know I’ll do the same. Respect is earned, and I’ll work every day to prove I’m worthy of it. For the new kids—look to your upperclassmen and get ready. Division One is where the big boys eat. We don’t care if you have a paper due the next day, and we don’t fuck around with excuses. When you’re here, you need to be focused. There’s no downtime. No life of glitz and glamour. It’s just you, the hardwood, and your determination.”

  The players nod along. They look eager. Like they’re soaking up his words and wanting to prove to him they can be what he’s asking. He may want to earn their respect, but to me, it looks like he already has it.

  “Coach Andrews and I will ask a lot of you, and sometimes you’ll hate us. You’ll want to give in to that voice in your mind, spinning lies to make your failures sound sweet.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do it. I promise if you put your head down and grind every day, push through the pain and the doubts, then we’ll do all we can to help you reach your full potential. Together, we’ll bring home the championship, and it will be my honor to watch you grow into your greatness.”

  The players hoot and holler, and Coach Andrews claps him on the back as he takes over.
A hint of a grin graces Eli’s face as he walks to the side. I watch him, mesmerized, wondering what it would feel like to be loved as much as Elliot Carson loves the game.

  The rest of practice is intense. One player throws up and goes back to drills like it’s normal. Another pulls a hamstring and continues to practice through it. But watching Eli in his element is something else. He’s fierce.

  Sadness flows from my head to my heart, squeezing my chest at the thought I never took the time to watch him play. I bet he was a thing of beauty.

  I’m still lost in thoughts of why I never saw him play long after everyone has left. I’ve got my earbuds in, placing the basketballs back in the rolling cart, and honestly, this gig is better than I expected. So far, most of my job is just ticking things off a list.

  Bending to pick up the last ball, I jump out of my skin when large hands reach down beside me and grab it before I can. I jerk up, coming face to chest with Eli. That damn cinnamon smell slams into me, making my stomach clench. I move my gaze upward, taking out my earbuds as I meet his eyes. They sparkle with something sinful and I have to bite back the urge to beg for his tongue in my pussy. It doesn’t seem fair I haven’t experienced it.

  “Almost done?” He quirks a brow.

  My palms go to my hips. “I was, until some big head came in and tried to distract me.”

  He smirks, tossing the ball into the cart with one hand, his eyes never leaving mine. Show-off. “You hungry?”

  My stomach flips at his question. You’d think I’ve never hung out with a man before. I do want to, but I know I shouldn’t.

  “I don’t know…”

  “Come on. I don’t bite.”

  “I beg to differ,” I quip before I can stop myself.

  Eli’s eyes darken, the smirk sliding off his face. “Only one way to find out.”

  His voice is deeper. Huskier. A thrill zips down my spine and settles in between my legs.