Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  “It's late,” Flor mumbled, glancing over at me. “You should go.” I grabbed my cell from the arm of the couch and checked the time: it was past one in the morning. I had a few texts from Addison that I'd responded to with the bare minimum, promising to explain in greater detail later. I knew as soon as she had the full story (i.e. the part about Flor and me in his bathroom), that I was going to get it. Maybe going home was actually the worse of two options?

  “I was thinking of just staying the night,” I responded without glancing at him. My words, as innocent as they were, seemed to coat the room in tension, heighten that sense of something that always lingered in the air between us. The thing was, I didn't much feel like going home, didn't want to answer Addi's questions, didn't want to be separated from Flor. Other than our illicit night on the roof together, we hadn't slept in the same place in years. “If that's okay with you,” I added and he shrugged, stretching his legs out so that his bare feet were just inches from my thigh. “I figured I'm already in my pajamas anyway.” I tried to smile, wondering what Flor thought of me in the faded baggy shirt and pants I was wearing. Next time I went to my old dresser for clothes, I was going to be sorely disappointed. This was definitely the last of it. “Are the kittens going to be okay?” I asked and Flor sighed.

  “Max can be a dick sometimes, but even he won't let a bunch of orphans go hungry.” I watched Flor run a hand down his arm, fingers playing across the brightness of his tattoos. “Besides, if he thinks this situation is permanent or even long lasting, he's got another thing coming. We own a fucking business together.” My stepbrother bit the words off like they hurt. He and Max had always been close. Hell, Max and I had always been close. There had to be some way to repair this thing between the three of us.

  I glanced down at my lap for a minute, buried in thought.

  “Abigail.” I looked up at Flor's words, found his eyes focused on me, the swelling around the left side of his face finally having gone down enough that I could get the full force of his gaze again. “Do you know why I gave you that tattoo?” I stayed staring at him, unable to move, to get out a single word past my suddenly swollen tongue. “Because it represented some sort of twisted hope that I'd never let myself have.” He looked away, towards the darkened hallway and we both listened for the sound of our parents' footsteps, like we were in high school, trading gossip again in the cloak of darkness. “Honestly? I'd been hoping that at some point, our parents would break up.” I raised an eyebrow. Never once had I thought that would ever happen. I mean, my dad and River were hopelessly in love, head over heels crazy for it. I wouldn't wish that fate on them … or would I? Because if they had broken up, then Flor and I might've been free to try this thing out. As it stood, this new baby of theirs pretty much guaranteed that there'd be little hope of that ever happening, not without a hitch. “I thought maybe, one day, we could … I don't know.” He sighed. “Never mind. Forget I even brought it up.”

  I bit my lip and turned so that I was facing him, putting my own feet on the couch and stretching out my legs, one on either side of his right leg.

  “You'd hoped for that and yet you said if you had a magic wand, you'd wave it just to get rid of these feelings.” I knew I was pushing him, but I couldn't help myself. It was always this back and forth with Flor, and I was desperate for answers. We'd taken this to a point where we had two choices: try it out or let it go. I was fighting for the former while he seemed resigned to the latter.

  “Because it hurts too fucking much,” he breathed, voice dark and low. “I feel like there's a knife lodged in my chest and every day that I see you, that I can't touch you, somebody turns it a full rotation. I'm bleeding from the inside out, Abi.”

  Tears strung my eyes, but I didn't know what to say to make it better. He feels the same way I do. I'd been waiting years to find out if that was true or not.

  “I love you, Flor,” I said again and tried not to be hurt that he cringed at the words. “And I've been hurting since the day I met you.” I don't know what I expected to happen, but I certainly didn't think he'd lean forward the way he did, pushing my legs back and moving in until our lips were inches apart.

  “I shouldn't be doing this, but hell if I know how to stop myself.” Flor's mouth closed on mine and I gasped at the tenderness in his touch, so different from the last few times we'd kissed, when he felt hungry and desperate and almost angry. He raised a hand and cupped the nape of my neck, pulling me towards him until our chests met and our tongues tangled together. Just beyond the sweetness of his touch, I could feel that desire boiling, tightening the muscles along his back and arms and shoulders. But for whatever reason, he held it in, keeping that same firm but gentle touch on my neck. It was possessive in a way I'd only dreamed of. I felt in that moment that I was his and he was mine. I knew it was too good to be true, but I gave into the feeling anyway, sighing and relaxing against his warmth.

  When his left hand slid up my thigh and his fingers curled around the waistband of my pajama pants – and my panties – I wasn't surprised. I felt that need for him roiling hot inside of me, a certain rightness that washed away all of the doubt and the shame, just for this single second. If it faded tomorrow, left me with another guilty spot on my conscious, I wouldn't care.

  Flor pulled my pants down to mid thigh and then leaned me back against the arm of the couch and the cluster of decorative pillows my stepmom loved so much. With an aching tenderness that caused my breath to catch in my throat, he touched me there with his left hand, fingers sliding across the wetness that he'd wrought with those sharp green eyes and those lips and … my thoughts seemed to trail off into nothing as Flor inserted two fingers, using those tattooed hands of his to bring me to the edge of pleasure in seconds, curling them just right, touching me just so. I moaned into his mouth, aware in the back of my mind that if we were caught, we'd blow any chance of having a sympathetic ear with either of our parents.

  But I didn't care.

  I let Flor thrust his fingers into me, again and again, while his breathing grew hoarse and ragged against mine, his chest pressed into my breasts, his lips on my jaw, my ear, my throat. I wrapped my own fingers around his neck, felt the silky brush of his hair as I relaxed into his touch and let the wave crest and break over me. My cry of triumph was cut short by Flor's mouth as my body convulsed around his hand, wishing there was something else of his inside of me.

  “Flor,” I whispered, breath coming in short little gasps, but he didn't let me finish, pushing my pants back into place and lifting me from the couch like I weighed nothing at all. He carried me up the stairs and straight into his bedroom, shutting the door with his shoulder and setting me down before turning the lock.

  Moonlight streamed in through the curtain-less window, staining the floor with silver light as Flor and I regarded each other, my body warm and still tingling from his touch.

  “If our parents,” I whispered, but Flor cut me off again, stepping forward and tangling his fingers in my curls. I raised my right hand and traced the scar on his chin, felt the roughness of the skin there and then leaned up on my toes to kiss it. Flor made a small sound under his breath as I breathed in his scent, that perfect tang of citrus mixed with something spicier, more masculine. I could drown in his smell and die happy.

  “They won't,” he responded, and even though the threat was still there, the fear of discovery, I let him take me into his arms and kiss me again, pausing only to pull my shirt over my head and toss it aside. I leaned into him, running my hands down the perfection of his belly, flicking my tongue against his lip rings. When I dug my fingers into his jeans pocket in an effort to pull him closer, I found a lacy bit of something shoved in there. Upon further inspection, I discovered it was the missing pair of purple panties.

  “What the hell are you doing with these?” I asked as he trailed his fingertips over my collarbone and then paused to press a kiss to my nose ring.

  “Good luck charm.”

  His mouth found mine again, li
ke he could barely stand to be separated. When his fingers found my hip bones, slid across the ink of my tattoo, I dropped my head back, allowing his lips the freedom to explore my throat and jawline.

  Flor made me feel something I never wanted to let go of, a type of passion that curled my toes and made my insides ache. But he also filled another void, a deeper part of me that was always looking for his approval, his smile, his laughter.

  I undid the button on his jeans and he let me, staring down at me with those sharp eyes of his, bright even the dimness of the room. I didn't know what he was thinking and that scared me.

  “Should we have told them?” he asked suddenly, reaching down and taking my wrists in his long, strong fingers. I didn't have an answer for that, so I shook my head, my hands suddenly beginning to tremble. I knew all the things I wanted to do with Flor, that I'd dreamed about doing to Flor, but being here and getting the opportunity to do it was terrifying. I knew how many women he'd been with and could only wonder if I'd measure up.

  “I don't know,” I whispered back, praying that my parents were asleep in the room at the end of the hall. “Maybe.” I waited for him to keep talking. Getting Flor to actually work through his problems was rare – especially when it came to me. If we were making any progress here, I needed it to happen, even if I'd rather he was naked on the bed. “What would you have done? What would you have told them? That you love me? Or that you slept with me?” I paused. “Or both.” I kept my eyes on Flor's jeans and not on his face.

  “I don't know,” he answered honestly as I dropped to my knees and pulled his jeans down with me. I was going to touch Flor the best way I knew how, give him everything I had and then some, let him touch me, let him feel the feelings I'd been keeping inside for so long. I'd been trying to let them out slowly, but that achy leak was becoming too much. I wanted to pour my love and my affection for him out into the world and just see what happened. I wanted him to put his arms around me and never think of another girl again.

  His breath caught as he realized what I was about to do, sliding his boxers down to his knees and taking hold of his cock. Looking up, I caught his gaze yet again, the gleam of moonlight on his eyebrow rings, his strong, perfect body.

  Bet he'd never thought he'd see his 'little sister' doing this.

  I took Flor into my mouth, his jewelry bumping against my teeth as I slid my tongue around his shaft and pulled back, breathing along the length of him and enjoying the way his body shuddered at my touch.

  “I hate that you're so good at that,” he growled down at me, and I wondered if he was thinking about Max again. No good. I only wanted him to be thinking about me. I cupped his balls with one hand, using my thumb to play with the silver ring in his skin. From the change in his breathing, I knew I was doing at least something right. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his hip bones, to those sharp grooves in his muscles that made girls drool. I knew; I'd seen dozens rendered speechless at the sight. Once, during a Relay for Life event, Flor had stripped off his T-shirt and ran the track in low slung shorts, drawing a crowd of girls that was almost comical to look it, if I hadn't been so jealous that is.

  I kissed his body, up to his firm belly and those muscles I'd always admired from afar. Being able to touch them in person was almost surreal, and I found myself groaning as my lips slid along his skin. Shut up, Abi! I warned myself, desperately certain that if my dad walked in here at this moment, he'd kill Flor. At least the damn door's locked. I'd never had a lock.

  My fingers curled around the base of Flor's cock as I found my way back down and wrapped my lips around the hard, curved length of him, my tongue moving along the tracery of veins beneath his skin. He made a noise low in his throat, like a caged animal, and then reached down to touch my hair. His fingers were tense, but his grip was gentle.

  “Stand up, Abigail,” he said, releasing me and holding out a hand. I followed him up and let him take me into his arms, kissing me while he removed my bra. Before I knew it, our bare chests were pressed together, the hard points of my nipples against his muscles, and we were spinning, my ass hitting the dresser before Flor slid me up onto it. “If you need to scream,” he told me with a slight grin, “then feel free to bite my shoulder.” I gave him a raised brow, but he was already easing between my legs. I opened for him, felt the warm press of his hips as he pulled me against him and slid us together.

  The connection of our bodies was delicious, like a slice of cake so sweet that I was already desperate for another bite. I wrapped my legs around Flor, drinking in the feel of his naked flesh on mine, teasing the beads of sweat that rose on his back as he moved inside of me. Our mouths connected in a frenzied tangle of passion and heat as my fingers curved around his neck and I ate up the masculine grunts and groans streaming from his throat. He was careful to keep quiet, but in the back of my mind, I was worried we weren't being quiet enough.

  Flor kept us pressed close, his hips rocking more than thrusting, until his muscles spasmed and he breathed deep, groaning into my mouth and spilling himself inside of me. With Max, I was used to that being the end of the evening, unless he was feeling particularly generous, but I guess it just wasn't that way with Flor.

  He moved us over to the bed, laying me on my back and finding that warm, sweet spot with his fingers again, working me until I really did have to turn my head and bite down, on a pillow instead of his shoulder. Still, the action excited him enough that he released a low, husky chuckle that sent a chill down my spine and turned my ache into a frenzy.

  Flor kissed my breasts, worked his thumb over my clit, and finally, when he was ready, found his way between my legs again, switching out his fingers for his cock. Several, wild moments later and I was coming, my body wrapped around his, squeezing tight, tight, tighter. I pressed my mouth into his shoulder and bit down, hard, stifling the scream that was so desperate to claw its way out of my throat. The only sound then, other than the gentle whisper of our bodies moving together, was the thumping beat of my wild heart.

  Afterward, Flor held me in his arms for so long that my eyes grew droopy and I drifted into a gentle sleep broken only by the sudden – and admittedly pretty alarming – thought that I was lying in my stepbrother's room at our parents' house.

  “I can't sleep in here, can I?” I whispered, even though I already knew the answer to that question. Flor pressed a kiss to my forehead that made me ache all over again. His body against mine felt so good, so right, like we were made for each other. I mean, I knew that sort of mushy romantic shit made most people uncomfortable, but even Addi, practical, smart-mouthed, been in a committed relationship for years Addi, believed in it. Apparently so did I.

  “Probably not the best idea,” Flor whispered back, but at least he sounded regrettable when he said it. That was progress.

  I rolled over to look at him.

  “I wish I could stay,” I said as I reached up and touched his scar again, memories of the day he'd gotten it flooding into my head. He'd braked too hard, trying to avoid the neighbor's cat who'd run right out on the sidewalk in front of him. I'd watched in horror as he flew over the handlebars and ended up in a patch of blackberry bushes.

  “I … ” Flor stopped talking, closing his green eyes like he needed a minute to regain his composure. I laid my head back on his chest and waited, listening to the rapid thump of his heart. It was almost as bad as mine. “Let's talk tomorrow, Abi. Somewhere we don't have to worry about being interrupted.” My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed hard. I couldn't tell from his tone if I should be worried or excited about that. I decided that no matter what happened, tonight had been good, too good to ruin. I sat up, keeping the sheets close and then leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. He returned the affection with an aching press of his mouth that twisted my stomach into knots.

  “See you in the morning?” I asked, praying that we'd get to sit and eat cereal together like old times.

  “Maybe,” he said, sitting up and watching as I slid off the bed. “I have an
appointment pretty early tomorrow.” He paused and grabbed the sheet, tugging it away from me at the last second, so that I ended up standing nude in the middle of his bedroom. I flushed and hurried to my clothes, fully aware that his gaze was burning on my backside, his eyes focused on my ass. “I might just have to cancel.”

  “You do that,” I whispered, tugging on my pajamas and moving to the door. I unlocked it and peeked out into the empty darkness. No sign of my parents. Thank God. I glanced over my shoulder at Flor. Another I love you seemed overboard, but I knew I had to say something. “If you get lonely,” I whispered, “you know where to find me.”

  I hurried out before he could respond, closing the door behind me, and tiptoed into my old bedroom, flopping onto the bed on my back with a sigh. Getting to sleep was a nightmare. Just the idea that Flor was across the hall, probably still naked, made my entire body flush from head to toe. Was he thinking of me like I was thinking of him? His words and actions told me that was a distinct possibility.

  I forced myself to crawl under the covers and close my eyes, realizing as I did that I was exhausted. I guess Flor really wore me out.

  I feel asleep with a smile.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I woke in the morning to find that I was the only one left in the house. Flor had sent me a text telling me he'd be at the shop while Addi had shot over a dozen or more get home now or equivalent messages warning me about her upcoming evening with Patrick. She always claimed she needed my opinion to get dressed, but we both knew that was a lie. She was more than capable of dressing us both in the dark. If Theo was there? All the better.

  I dragged myself out of bed, dressed in yesterday's clothes, and went home to find a caramel macchiato waiting on the counter for me. I took a sip and was surprised to find that it was still warm.