Score: A Stepbrother Sports Romance

by Aubrey Irons

  His hand moves up to my breast again, palming it and teasing the nipple through the cotton. It slides down to my stomach, and my breath hitches as his hand slides lower, like in my dream. He slides it down over the front of my pajama pants, cupping my heat through them and rubbing me there, and I’m so wet for him.

  “Very good dreams, I’d say,” he husks into my ear. He moves his mouth lower, and I gasp out loud as he bites my neck. His hand slides to the waist of my pajamas, his thumb hooking in as he starts to push them down.

  I let him.

  He slides them down to my thighs before his hand is right back between my legs, rubbing the front of my soaking wet panties. He growls as he feels the heat and the slickness there.

  “Shit, darlin.”

  I moan as he kisses me again, and I can feel him so hard against me. I reach back, and I can hear him groan as I run my fingers over the huge bulge in his boxers.

  Oh my God.

  He’s enormous, and my jaw actually drops as my fingers flit across the pulsing head through the material.

  “Are you kidding me?” I whisper, my words punctuated by a moan as his finger slides against my seam through the panties.

  “Does it feel like a joke?

  Um, no.

  Dalton moves me around, pulling me towards him until we’re face to face. I bring my other hand down between us, using both hands to stroke him as he growls, his fingers still between my thighs.

  I’m shaking my head as his lips find my neck again, gasping as he kisses me there and strokes me between my legs. “What are we doing?” I moan. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “You really want me to stop?”

  His fingers push my panties to the side, and then they’re bare, right on me.

  “Please don’t,” I whimper out.

  He pushes a finger inside of me as he kisses me fiercely. I moan into his lips as I stroke him, feeling how big he is in his boxers.

  I’ve got the famous Dalton Cole bulge in my hands - the one that was all over magazines and on billboards in cities across the country.

  And I can definitively say, there is nothing stuffed about that bulge - oh no.

  His fingers are still driving me insane as they stroke in and out of my wetness, but I want to feel him - I want to touch his skin. I push his t-shirt up over his abs, and as his hands leave me to yank it the rest of the way off, I slip both my hands into the front of his boxers and wrap my fingers around him.

  We’re face to face, breathing each other’s breaths as my fingers trace and curl around his thick shaft.

  “That’s…that’s not stuffing,” I whisper, biting my lip as my eyes find his in the dark.

  “Not at all, and it’s all yours.”

  His hand pushes back between my thighs, tugging my panties down before sliding his finger back inside of me.

  “Shit that feels good, darlin.”

  “It does?”

  It hasn’t occurred to me until this very moment that I’ve never actually given a hand job.

  “Yeah, it does,” he groans, the shadows at the hollow of his cheeks darkening as he clenches his jaw.

  He reaches up and start to pull my t-shirt up, and I gasp as he leans in, suckling a hard pink nipple between his lips. He pushes a second finger alongside the first, filling me up and stroking against that perfect spot inside. I pull him out of his shorts, stroking him with both hands. I’m lost in it all, gasping for air and feeling the heat and the dark of the room crashing around me like a wave.

  Dalton’s thumb brushes against my clit, circling it and making me cry out into his shoulder as my body starts to tumble.

  God, I’m going to come.

  I can feel myself start to fall, just like that time in the gym. I’m gasping for air, whimpering at the feel of his fingers on me - his lips and his tongue on my nipple. I can feel the huge cock in my hands throbbing, pulsing hot like it’s alive.

  His thumb on my clit is so insistent, so teasing, and so demanding.

  Just like him.

  Just like this unstoppable, forbidden, and utterly wrong attraction.

  His fingers drive in deep, and as his teeth graze across my nipple, I lose it.

  I silence my cry against his chest, moaning into his skin and jerking his thick shaft as fast as I can as the orgasm tears through me. I’m lost, enveloped by him, consumed by him, and owned by him as he makes me come on his fingers for the second time.

  His cock throbs hard in my hand like iron, and then he’s grunting as it pulses in my grasp. I gasp as I feel it so wet and hot and sticky across my stomach and my hands, and I keep stroking him while his fingers circle my clit again and again. My body convulses with the aftershocks of my orgasm and I gently sink my teeth into his skin, sucking in air.

  Holy shit.

  We stay like that, in silence, and I don’t know what to say, which is funny I guess since his fingers are still inside of me and my hands are still on his cock.

  “Hang on.”

  I frown, the uncertainty spiking inside of me. “Wait, where are you going?” There’s more panic in my voice than I want, and he must sense it, because he kisses me gently.

  “One sec, darlin.”

  He comes back from my bathroom a minute later, and I can’t help but grin as he slowly wipes my stomach and my arm clean with the warm washcloth.

  Part of me wants to ask if he cleans up every girl he comes on, but I don’t.

  “Dalton, we-”

  “Shh,” he silences me with a kiss on my lips. “Hey red?”

  I bite my lip, grinning at the way his eyes sparkle down into mine. “Yeah blondie?”

  “Let’s just sleep, okay?”

  “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” I whisper, pulling my panties back up. He kisses me again before tugging my shirt back down over my breasts.

  I close my eyes as I move back against him like we were before, sleep pulling over me like a veil. And then I’m drifting off as he circles his arms around me.

  23

  Hailey

  There are dreams that after you wake up from, become lost in the veil of awareness. Then, of course, there are others where you wake up, but you’re still in the dream.

  That second one is me, right now. Only it’s not a dream anymore.

  I am very much awake, and in bed with Dalton, after the single hottest night of my life.

  Holy crap.

  I can feel my heart beating in my chest as I blink, fully taking it all in. I’m still in his arms, still only wearing panties and a t-shirt, and still tingling from the earth-shattering orgasm of the night before.

  Right, the one Dalton Cole gave me, right before I stroked his legendary cock to completion on my skin.

  Yeah, this is very much not a dream.

  He stirs behind me, his breath teasing warm across the back of my neck as his arms flex, moving to circle me tighter and his lips trail over my shoulder.

  “Hey,” he murmurs, lazily stretching behind me.

  “Hi.”

  I’m awkward, and frozen, and suddenly at a loss for what to say. And I shouldn’t be, but I am.

  I turn toward him, biting my lip. He’s still shirtless, laid out in my bed with just a sheet slung over his body. Sunlight streams across his skin, and he grins at me. Those twinkling eyes, those dimples, that handsome, chiseled line of his jaw.

  Jesus he’s unfairly good looking.

  I’m clutching the sheet to myself, and he grins. “Well, look who suddenly got bashful.”

  I blush. “It’s- it’s different.”

  “How?” His grin widens.

  I chew on my lip. “The sun’s out.”

  Dalton laughs. “Are we vampires or something?”

  “No, Dalton-” I take a breath, rolling my eyes. It’s just-”

  What, it’s just that now we can see what we’ve done? We’re not half-asleep and it’s obvious what happened shouldn’t have now that the lights are shed on it?

  Or is that I’m still
hanging onto my own ridiculous idea that I’m “just experimenting”? Is it that I’m still telling myself that all of this is just “biology” and “trying something new” with a well-versed instructor?

  Maybe.

  Except I don’t have the foggiest idea how to say that to Dalton. Because even Dalton doesn’t deserve that. Even epic manwhore, king of the campus, freaking underwear model Dalton Cole deserves more than that from me.

  “Look, I just-”

  “Hey, kiddo!”

  I actually jump at the sound of my dad’s voice from downstairs.

  “Shit!” I hiss, scrambling out of bed as I hear footsteps coming up the back staircase.

  “You up, Hails?”

  I’m yanking sweatpants up my legs as I whirl and look at Dalton.

  He’s grinning.

  God, of course he’s grinning. Of course he’s still shirtless, and carefree, and laying in Coach Garrison’s daughter’s bed like this is no big deal.

  “Dalton!” I hiss.

  “What?”

  “You need to go!” My eyes are wide and my pulse racing in my veins as I stare at him like he’s insane.

  He looks around, furrowing his brow. “Go where, exactly, darlin?”

  “Away!” I’m ducking my face in front of the mirror on my wall, pushing the tangles of hair out of my face.

  I turn back to see him shrug and look around. “I mean, what do you want me to do, click my heels three times?”

  “Dalton!”

  I scowl as he slips out of bed, that cut, chiseled body of his uncoiling like some sort of jungle cat. “There’s one door, darlin. You want me to hold it open for Coach on the way out?”

  “Ugh, NO.”

  He shrugs again, throwing his hands in the air. “Well?”

  The footsteps continue to climb the stairs as my blood pressure goes through the damn roof. God, why are we even in this moment where I’ve got Dalton half naked in my bedroom?

  …Right, because I asked him to here.

  Nice move, psycho.

  “Can you hide?”

  “Hailey?”

  The knock on my door has me jumping out of my skin, but it also seems to finally have an effect on Dalton too. His eyes dart to the door, and the first time maybe ever, I see something that looks a little bit like fear there.

  Well, maybe not fear, but “less cocky”.

  It’s a start.

  He gives me a final look before he darts into the adjoining bathroom and shuts the door just as my dad knocks again.

  I take a deep breath, hoping to God my sins of last night aren’t plainly written on my face as I pull open the door.

  “Hey, sport.”

  I smile, clenching my hand into a fist at my side and forcing myself to smile and breathe. “Hey, Dad.”

  “You got a minute?”

  He follows me into the room, and for a second, a spike of fear lances through me.

  Dalton’s jeans are on the floor.

  I quickly kick them under my desk with my heel as my dad turns to close the door. God knows where Dalton’s shirt is - probably and hopefully still tangled up in my mess of a bed.

  Dad turns to me, a concerned look on his face. “You okay, kiddo?”

  I shake my head quickly. “Yeah, dad, I’m gre-”

  “I heard about last night, Hailey.”

  My heart almost climbs right out of my mouth, the blood draining from my face before he puts a hand on my arm. “The party, honey.”

  Sweet sweet relief floods through me.

  Yeah, going to a party I can explain…fooling around with his new wife’s son is another matter altogether.

  My cheeks go red as I quickly look at the floor. “Dad, it was just a party and I only had one dri-”

  “Hailey, honey, I don’t care about the party. And right now at least, I don’t care about you having a drink.”

  His voice is heavy with emotion, tired and yet concerned.

  “I care about you being safe.”

  His eyes harden before he suddenly brings me into a hug. “Jesus, honey, I’m so sorry about what happened.”

  Oh, that.

  As horrible as it sounds, I’ve actually almost entirely forgot about the incident with Henderson in the aftermath of what happened later with Dalton.

  “I’m really okay, dad.”

  “Thanks to Dalton.” My dad shakes his head, emotion creeping into his eyes as he grits his teeth. “Thank God your stepbrother was there.”

  Uh, yeah…

  He hugs me again before he pulls back and looks at me, blinking quickly. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  I smile weakly. “Dad, I really am okay. Dalton and my friend Roxie took care of me and then he brought me home.”

  Dad’s face goes grim. “Heather’s going to start proceedings to see if we can have that shit-bird removed from classes pending a formal inquiry, and I should mention it goes without saying that his ass is off the team.”

  I quickly shake my head. “No, Dad, I don’t need you guys pulling special strings for me.”

  He frowns. “Honey, we’d do this if it was any student that got attacked by that piece of shit. But you’re my daughter, and I plan on stringing this little prick up by his balls.”

  I groan. “Dad, everyone’s just going to think you’re making an example of him because my dad is Coach Garr-”

  “You’re Goddamn right they will!” Dad’s voice rises sharply as his eyes flash. His mouth tightens. “You’re damn right they will,” he says quieter with a shake of his head. “No one gets away with trying to lay their hands on my little girl like that, do you understand?”

  I nod as the smile creeps across my face. “I got it.” I throw my arms around my dad. “And thank you.”

  He squeezes me back tightly. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m really fine, Dad.”

  He pulls back and shakes his head. “I’m just so thankful that Dalton was there to get you out of that whole thing.”

  That whole thing and my panties, actually.

  My face goes red at the thought, and I quickly shake those memories from my head.

  “Hey, what say you and me go out for burger or a shake sometime, just the two of us like we used to?”

  He ruffles my hair in that way that used to bug me when I was little because it felt like something he should be doing to a son, not his daughter. It was one of those things like him calling me “sport” that used to grate on me, before I realized that that was just my dad.

  Who loves me.

  I grin, nodding. “Name a time, and I’m there.”

  The bathroom door creeks open after he heads back downstairs.

  “Well,” Dalton steps out, running his hand through his hair and shooting a look at my bedroom door. “I’m officially terrified of your dad now.”

  “Feeling guilty?”

  I say it quicker and with more fire than I meant to, and his look sours.

  “I distinctly remember someone asking me to stay last night.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  My face goes red as I trail off.

  “Oh, what?”

  “Nothing, I just-”

  “Can’t believe how good I made you feel?” Dalton flashes a lopsided grin at me.

  “No, I can’t believe I did that.”

  “You’d be surprised how much fun you can have when you let yourself go a little.”

  I’m shaking my head as I suddenly whirl and glare at him. “You know what, maybe you should feel guilty for once in your life.”

  He frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I shake my head, pushing my hair out of my face. “Dalton, I mean I was attacked last night.”

  “Yeah, I was there, remember?”

  And this is where I should stop. This is where I should take a breath and realize it’s not Dalton I’m mad at, or that I’m not mad at all.

  I’m scared.

  I’m scared of what last night means with him and I’m scared
that “experimenting” goes a little further when you wake up in each other’s arms.

  But I don’t stop, or breathe, or listen to what’s really going around inside my head.

  I lash out.

  “Oh, to swoop in? To pick me up? Carry me home?”

  I glare at him. “To climb into my bed?”

  Dalton’s face goes dark. “Okay, listen, darlin,” he spits out.

  “Is this one of your moves, huh? Get them while they’re emotionally unstable?”

  His eyes narrow. “That is not what last night was and you damn well know it.”

  And I do, but I can’t stop it. It’s like every second guess or fear I’ve got stashed inside about what it is I’m doing with Dalton comes pouring out of a tap, and there’s no turning it off.

  “I think you should go,” I say quietly.

  “Yeah, you know what?” He’s shaking his head as he yanks his jeans up. He gives me one last look. “I do too.”

  The door slams behind him.

  I’m slumping down on the floor next to the bed we shared the night before, dropping my head into my hands and sucking in rattling lungfuls of air.

  Nice going, weirdo.

  24

  Dalton

  I’m grumbling later as I storm into the locker room back on campus.

  That was a mistake, I shouldn’t have stepped foot in that room last night.

  Well, no, that much is bullshit. What happened last night is fucking awesome. What happened last night is burning like a little match inside my head, putting this ridiculous grin on my face, however pissed I am.

  It’s this morning that has the scowl lingering there when the smile fades, though. It’s this morning, and Hailey’s little panicky meltdown, not to mention her shit attitude after that little heart-to-heart with her dad.

  That’s what’s got me shaking my head, and muttering about my choices.

  Because Hailey Garrison wasn’t some fling, or just “some girl.” And I don’t exactly know what she is, but I do know one thing.

  She wasn’t ready for that.

  I mean, clearly she wasn’t, that much is obvious. It’s that geeky inexperience and innocence about her that attracts me. It’s what gets my cock harder than steel just from a flash of her eyes or a sassy comeback from her lips.