by J Santiago
“Can you drop her car off at my apartment?” Tank said.
“Yeah, no problem.”
Tank handed the keys to the guy and then closed his window. He pulled out of the parking lot.
“You’re going to have a minion drive my car to your place? What the hell?”
“Minion?” he asked as he pulled to a light and looked over at her.
“Yeah, minion. Those guys who hang around the football team and do whatever anyone tells them to do for a scrap of attention and a shot at a job, like cleaning helmets or coaching. Minions.”
He couldn’t help it. He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re not right,” he commented.
“No, I’m fine. Those pathetic guys will do anything you ask them to do. They are the ones who aren’t right.”
“Minions,” he said, still chuckling. “That’s fucking funny. Wait till I tell Tilly that one.”
“Don’t you ever wonder about them? They’ll do anything for you guys.”
Tank just shrugged. “He just thinks he’s paying his dues.”
“Whatever,” she replied. “And why couldn’t I drive?”
“Ha. I don’t trust you. You probably would have driven straight home.” He glanced at her. “Right?”
He hadn’t meant to be an overbearing ass, but he didn’t really want to let her out of his sight. He wanted her, and any space he gave her usually meant taking eight steps backward. He wasn’t taking chances—at least tonight.
She seemed to be thinking about his question and didn’t answer him right away.
“Right?” he prompted.
“Wrong,” she said softly. “Right now, you would have been wrong.”
“What’s different about tonight?” He wanted her to be honest with him, to tell him what had brought her out tonight.
He hadn’t heard anything from her since the night of the brawl. He hadn’t seen her, and he’d been really careful not to ask Tilly anything about her. Then, she had shown up. He could admit that he probably would have avoided any texts or calls she’d have made to him, but the moment she’d walked onto his field, he had known he wasn’t going to let her walk away.
“Ugh! All the questions. Can’t you just go with it?”
“Yes. For right now.”
“Then, do that. If I stop to answer your questions, I’ll think about what I’m doing and how this is wrong on so many levels, and I’ll run.”
He took that for the confession that it was and let it go. He had gotten more of her with her nonanswer than he’d actually thought he would when he asked the question.
It didn’t take long for them to reach his apartment.
“I always wondered why parents wouldn’t tell their kids to run for the hills when they saw these apartments on their visits,” she observed as they pulled in.
He smiled. “Yeah, they’re pretty bad but cheap.”
He parked and got out, meeting her at her door before she could get out. He grabbed her hand and led her upstairs to the place he shared with Tilly.
“Is he home?” she asked.
“Nah. With Keira.”
“Oh. A lot?” she asked.
“Don’t you know?” he said, looking at her curiously, as he unlocked his door.
“You and your damn questions.”
He pushed open the door, waited for her to walk in, and then followed. “You’re the one who asked the question that time,” he pointed out as he put his keys on the little table that had come with the apartment.
“True,” she merely said as she glanced around at the surprisingly clean room. “So, which one of you is the neat freak?”
“Believe it or not, it’s a toss-up. Tilly might have a little OCD, but I have a mom who didn’t let me get away with shit. So, we have a clean apartment.”
“Freakishly clean,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Is one of you gay?” she teased.
He moved quickly, grabbing her arm and pulling her to him. He kissed her hard, forcing her mouth to open and invading it with his tongue. She immediately kissed him back, melting into it, her body putty in his hands. He could feel her total surrender.
He backed toward his room, his mouth never leaving hers. Turning the knob, he pulled them inside and kicked the door closed once she had come through. Then, he moved backward, sitting on the bed, before he pulled her down on top of him. They kissed for a long time until they were both impatient to move on.
Working her shirt over her head, he reluctantly let go of her mouth. He quickly got rid of her shirt and bra, and then he flipped them, so he was on top of her, between her legs. He paused to look at her. He felt her tug on his shirt, and he sat up on his knees to yank it over his head.
Then, he shifted down and caught her nipple in his mouth, making her gasp. She pulled him down, so their bodies could move against each other even though their pants were still in place.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get to do this,” Tank whispered as he leaned down again, placing kisses all over her breast while he played with her nipple with his left hand. “And I really wanted to…”
His hand coasted down her stomach toward the button on her jeans. Pulling it apart, he shoved her pants down with his right hand. Her underwear quickly followed. Then, his hands glided up her legs, and he buried his finger inside her.
“I really wanted to do that, too.”
He watched as she arched her back, begging him for more. His gaze roamed over the plane of her torso, her olive skin contrasting the brown of his hand. He wanted to both kiss her into oblivion and scrutinize her every response. He wanted to know how she looked when he lightly grazed her nipple with his teeth and the glaze of her eyes as his fingers dipped and curled inside her. He needed to own every gasp, shudder, and spill of her body.
Mine, he thought. His finger stilled inside her as the errant word shocked him.
It took a moment.
“Tank?” Amber gazed up at him, her eyes clouded with desire.
He mentally shook off his crazy thoughts as he continued to play with her. He bent down and ran his tongue over her scar, and at the same time, he curled his finger inside her, hitting that magical spot. She cried out as her body vibrated. He groaned as her orgasm ripped through her. His mouth tugged on the ragged flesh at her neck, making her body rock against his hand as she sought to ride it out.
“Fuck,” he whispered in her ear as he watched her come. “Your scar makes you crazy.”
He continued to stroke her as she came. Then, he quickly took off his pants, put on a condom, and thrust up into her. He went at her hard, almost out of control, trying to make up for the weeks that he hadn’t been able to be inside her. She met him thrust for thrust, her body combining with his in a frenzied slap. He pulled her legs around his waist, so his penetration was deeper.
When he knew he was close, which was so much sooner than he’d anticipated, he bit gently at the base of her jaw and ear where the spiderweb of her scar puckered up. Just like that, they shattered together.
And, if the intensity of the sex scared either one of them, they weren’t saying.
Tank didn’t want her to leave. He wasn’t sure if her father would be waiting for her at home, but he knew that he wanted her to stay with him. He was afraid that, once she left, she’d revert back to why they should stay away from one another. She hadn’t made an attempt to get up. It might have been difficult, as he made sure their bodies remained intertwined. He’d pulled her half on top of him, and he had her leg trapped between both of his.
“So, yes,” he said.
“Huh?”
“You asked about Keira and Tilly. The answer is yes. They’ve been together a lot this week.”
“He’s a good guy, right?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good. She deserves a good guy.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” he asked.
“No. Some people don’t deserve to be treated well.”
He couldn’t see her face, so he wasn’t sure if she
was talking about herself, but he let that one go because he wanted to ask a different question.
“Does it hurt?” he asked in his soothing voice. He knew this would be a difficult question for her. He also knew he wouldn’t have to explain what he meant. He’d moved his hand up, so his fingers lightly rested against the scar on her neck.
He felt her stiffen and waited for her to pull out of his arms.
But she surprised him by drawing a deep breath and saying, “Yes. It’s like it burns, but I think it’s only phantom pain, like if I’d lost my arm or leg.”
“You don’t think it could really hurt?” he asked, a little astonished by her wanting to deny that the pain could be real.
“It’s hard to explain. It feels hot a lot. When you touch it or lick it or kiss it, it feels like cool water on it. I just…I’m not explaining it right.”
He shifted her, so she was beneath him, and he could see her.
“Keep going,” he said. Now, he could look into her eyes when she was talking.
“What do you mean?” she said, glancing away from him, like it was too much to peer into his eyes.
“What does it feel like when I do this?” He ran his fingers along her scar, from the bottom of her neck, up around her jaw, and toward the corner of her mouth.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, her breath catching in her throat. She inhaled as she opened her eyes. “It’s sensitive.”
“That’s all you’ve got?” he said, smiling down at her. “What about this?” He retraced the same path—with his mouth, this time.
She took another big breath and closed her eyes. “Cool,” she murmured.
“Cool?” he said, doing it again. “It seems like it gets you hot.” He laughed. “I like this spot.”
“I think I was right the first night I met you. You have some perv tendencies,” she said, her voice sounding breathless.
He laughed. “There’s no doubt about that,” he said before he went about getting her all hot.
Twenty
Franco had been leaving the building late yesterday when he ran into one of the student managers who had been coming from working out with Tank. He’d noted that they’d finished early, and he had been informed that they’d been interrupted. Tank rarely let anyone interrupt his workout.
Curious, Franco had driven to the stadium. He’d been walking through the tunnel when he heard the voices. He had known before he saw them that Amber and Tank were talking, both of their voices so familiar to him.
He didn’t know what he had missed, but what he had seen shook him. Tank had held her wrist in his large hand, able to easily circle it. He had seen her push him away, and Tank had quickly moved to pull her to him. Franco had watched him kiss her down the side where her scar marred her beautiful skin. He’d observed Tank quickly kiss her and then talk to her. He had seen his daughter melt into a kid that was close to a son for him. He had seen Tank pick her up and sling her over his shoulder. And he had seen her smile.
It was the smile that was like a knife in Franco’s heart. It was harder to see her actually smile than it was to see that erotic picture of her and Tank. He knew Tank was getting to her, was opening her up, was bringing her back to him.
And Franco hated Tank a little bit for it.
And he hated her a little bit for picking Tank as her white knight. She could ruin it for Tank. All her secrets and the path of destruction she’d woven through Oxford could come crashing down around Tank if he wasn’t careful. If the reporters got ahold of the connections, the distractions would ruin their season. Tank needed to stay focused, not get involved with the disaster that was his daughter’s past.
Franco had watched them come through the tunnel as he hid from their view. All he could think was that the longer this all stayed a secret, the more problems it would cause. He wished he could trust his daughter to trust Tank with the truth, but he knew that it would take her a long time to trust him enough to tell him confide in him.
He was torn, as he had when he first realized that their paths had crossed. He wanted them both to be okay. He wanted Amber to deal with the past. He wanted Tank to win the Heisman and be a first-round draft pick. He wanted his school to be The Little Engine That Could and somehow be in the running for the national title. And he wanted to see his daughter smile like that all the time—like she used to before her face had been so horribly scarred.
Franco got lost in his confusion, the push-and-pull of his two roles, his need to be both a good father and a good coach. How the hell could he save the two of them?
After Tank and Amber had left the field, Franco returned to the office. He was pretty sure that Amber wasn’t coming home, but he didn’t want to run the risk of seeing her, so he took shelter with his work. As he made his way back through the building, he saw the light on in Molly’s office. The thought that he would need to walk by her office to get to his had never crossed his mind. He’d gotten into an unconscious habit of walking an alternate route through the building just to see her.
Leaning against the doorjamb, he watched her as she worked on her computer.
“Shouldn’t you be home by now?” he asked, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silent building.
She didn’t appear startled to see him standing there. “Pot?” she asked, smiling at him.
Her smile made him temporarily forget all his troubles. He stayed at the entrance to her office, fighting temptation.
He stared at her. Then, he suddenly got it. “Ah, kettle and black and all that.”
She nodded.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, boldly lying. “Website’s down. You throwing the NCAA around seemed to work. Thanks.”
“Cy told me. Said the Instagram stuff is still there though.”
“Yeah. Least of my concerns right now.” Franco wanted to walk in, but he figured that staying at the door was the smarter move.
“Oh?” she said, cocking her head to the side.
He just shook his head.
“You going to come in and sit down or just stand there and stare at me?”
“Standing here is safer.”
She sat back in her chair, looking at him. He wasn’t sure if she even knew she did it, but her eyes drifted down to his mouth and then quickly back up. Her tongue darted out to wet her lip, and she smiled wryly.
“Safer huh?” she asked, tilting her head, “Are you sure?”
Franco chuckled. “Now, I’m feeling a little reckless.”
Her perusal of his mouth made him want to do things to hers.
“Okay?” she said, drawing the word out, like she was asking a question.
“Do you have someone to walk you out at night when you stay this late?”
“Of course. The security guard on duty always walks me out.”
“Good.” He took one last good look at her, enjoying the respite from all thoughts Amber and Tank. “Have a good night.”
He turned to leave. He took two steps and stopped. He turned back around and looked at her. “I’m a sexual harassment case about to happen,” he said, a self-deprecating smile on his face.
“How’s that?” she asked, her eyes lit with mischief.
He walked toward her desk, paused, and then walked around it. He leaned down and put his hands on both arms of her chair. “Because I’m going to kiss you.”
She didn’t move. She just looked up into his eyes. Then, she smiled, wide. “I’ll take the pressure off, Franco,” she said before she lifted her mouth to meet his.
It had been a long time since Franco had lost himself in a kiss. The last two years had been about Amber. Before that, he’d been trying to build his career. And, before that, he’d avoided the entanglements because he didn’t know who was genuine and who wasn’t, and he’d had to think about anyone who he’d expose to his daughter. So, kissing Molly felt like a redshirt freshman’s debut on the big field. His love life had been sidelined by his responsibilities for a long time.
“Told you,” he said as he inched her skirt up her thighs. When it reached her hips, he smoothed his hands down her legs, from her thighs to her knees, and they lingered there for a second. He glanced down at the picture of his large hands on her. Then, he looked up at her again and leered slightly. “Reckless,” he said before he yanked her knees apart and stepped between her legs. He pulled her forward to meet the thrust of his hips.
Her lids fell to half-mast as a moan escaped from her mouth.
Franco needed no further encouragement as his mouth fell upon hers. His fingers moved up between her legs, and he shifted her panties aside, seeking her warmth.
It was his turn to groan as he encountered and explored the wet depths of her. He broke the kiss and knelt down in front of her, pulling her to the edge of the desk. He was graceless in his quest to taste her. His mouth clamped around her clit as his fingers worked furiously. Molly’s body bucked toward him as her hands found purchase in the thick locks of his hair. He felt her pull as he twisted his fingers and gently bit down on her. She came against his tongue, her orgasm filling his mouth and his name falling from her lips.
“Shh, baby,” he muttered from between her legs. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
She tugged on his hair.
He stood up, and with his mouth glistening, he dropped a kiss on her lips.
“Told ya,” he said as he straightened away from her. “Totally reckless.” He turned and left her office.
Feeling a little smug, he made his way back through the building, happy, for the diversion of Molly, for the feel of her lips against his, for the peace she’d brought him.
Twenty-One
Tank’s Tuesday started at six in the morning. Although he didn’t really want to leave Amber, he made himself get up. After he showered and got dressed, he sat down on the bed, gently shaking her awake. He imagined she was as tired as he was. They hadn’t slept much. But he didn’t want her to wake up and find him gone. He was putting an end to their hit-it-and-run tendencies.
