Play Me

by Alla Kar

  Her fingers tighten around my shirt and she smiles up at me. “Good morning,” she whispers.

  “Weston?”

  The little voice comes from behind Roxy. A look of worry crosses Roxy’s face but I put my finger against the wrinkle line on her forehead. “Maddox?” I ask, sidestepping Roxy to look down at him.

  Big blue eyes stare up at me from under a blue and yellow SAU hat. He has dark hair curling upward over the rim. “That’s me,” he says.

  I nod. “It’s nice to meet you, Maddox.”

  “Will you play with me at the park?” he asks, bringing the football he’s holding out in front of him. He tosses it up and catches it.

  Something aches at my chest that I’ve never felt but I nod. “I will. Can you catch?”

  He puffs out his chest and nods. “Yea I can!” he shouts.

  “Maddox, inside voice,” she says.

  He lowers his voice. “Yea, I can because I’m going to play for the Dolphins one day!”

  Smiling down at him I hold out my hand for a high-five. “We’ll get ya there, buddy.”

  ***

  Maddox is great. He talks a lot but at least he’s opening up to me. Grabbing a loaf of bread, Maddox and I sit on the dock of the lake and throw pieces into the water for the ducks.

  He swings his feet in tempo with me. “I wish I were a duck,” he says.

  I laugh. “And why is that?”

  “Because they can swim.”

  “You can’t?”

  A sad frown curves on his face. “No. I can’t.”

  I slip closer to him and look over my shoulder. Roxanne is spreading out our blanket and setting out our plates. “How about I teach you soon?”

  He stares blankly up at me and blinks twice. “Really?”

  I knock my fingers against his head and wrap my arm around his shoulder. “Of course.”

  A sloppy grin widens on his face and he starts to throw more bread off of the dock. “Can you handle this while I’m gone? I need to go talk to your Mom.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Do you like her?”

  I bite my lip. “Yea, bud. I do. Are you okay with that?”

  He takes a minute to respond but he finally nods. “I think so. You’re good at football.”

  Good to know.

  Roxy is barefoot, legs crossed and her head resting against her folded arms behind her head. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without a sneer for this long. Her green eyes flutter open as I crawl on top of her. She smiles. “You’re getting a lot better. You jogged on your leg.” She pokes me in the chest.

  I press a light kiss to the corner of her mouth and inhale her in before falling over to my side. “I am gettin’ better. Hopefully I’ll be able to start practice soon.”

  She nods, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “You want to play football for the rest of your life?”

  I relax my head against the palm of my hand and trace circles around Roxy’s belly. “Yes. It’s been my dream since I can remember.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  I shrug. “Maybe The Buccaneers or The Dolphins.”

  She giggles and it makes my dick constrict against my jeans. “Don’t tell Maddox he’ll never leave you alone.”

  “I don’t mind,” I say. And for the first time I think I mean it. I don’t mind that she has a kid. I don’t mind that Roxy is a firecracker. And I sure as hell don’t care what everyone is going to say about me. I—like Roxy.

  “Why not?” she whispers. I almost think she didn’t say it but when I look up at her I know she did. Those green eyes are full of fear. Fear of being rejected

  “Because I like you.”

  She smirks. “Half of SAU’s girl’s population will probably testify you said the same to them.”

  I lift an eyebrow and swing my leg over her and hold myself up with my arms. “Oh really. I bet none of them can say that I’ve taken them out on a date. Or kissed their mouth,” I whisper against her lips.

  She freezes beneath me. “What do you mean? You’ve never kissed any of them?”

  I slowly shake my head and watch as her eyes darken. Her fingers clutch onto the sides of my shirt. “You like that I kiss only you, Roxanne?” I gently whisper, nipping up her jaw until I take her earlobe in-between my teeth.

  Her hips rock upward against me. Her eyes briefly close until I stroke the inside of her thigh. “Maddox,” she chokes out.

  I jerk my head upwards and see Maddox still in his same spot. “He isn’t looking,” I say, raising my hand to touch the fabric of her underwear.

  She arches her back and grips me harder. With my eyes focused on Maddox, I slide my fingers around the edge and scoot them over to the side. Roxy moans as I slide my finger down her core. “You’re so wet,” I whisper, stroking her faster.

  She clenches around my finger, and the hottest noise slips from her lips. When she looks back-up her gaze is hooded. A lazy grin crawls up her face.

  “What are y’all doing?”

  I jump back, my hand coming from underneath her dress as quick as I slipped it up there. “Getting ready to eat,” I blurt out, running my fingers through my hair.

  Maddox plops down beside me and starts piling food onto his plate.

  Roxanne’s cheeks are red when I glance over at her. She hands me a fixed plate. “You hungry?” she asks.

  I slowly nod, giving her a once over. “You bet.”

  ***

  Roxy

  Maddox’s head is pressed against the crook in Weston’s shoulder. One arm is flopped over Weston’s back and the other tucked nicely into his chest. Weston turns around and looks at me. Something about Maddox in his arms makes me wetter than I’ve ever been.

  “Is his bedroom the one on the left?”

  I slowly nod. I wait until Weston is down the hallway before I slip off my shoes and run my fingers through my hair. The door to Maddox’s room closes and then I’m staring at Weston in the doorway. The tight white T-shirt he’s wearing stretches as he rubs his hands against his jeans. “He’s a good kid,” he finally says.

  I nod. “He is.”

  Today was good. Maddox seemed to enjoy Weston’s company and it shakes me to the core. What if Weston bolts—like Ryan—I can’t let Maddox get his hopes up every time I date. I explained to Maddox that Weston was Mommy’s friend but that doesn’t mean theories won’t transform into hope.

  Weston clears his throat and takes a couple of steps toward me. My fingers itch to touch that soft, dirty blond hair. Or the hard curvature of each muscle. But I don’t move. We watch each other for a few minutes. “Where are you parents?”

  Weston asks.

  “Texas.”

  He frowns. “Do you go visit them?” I shake my head. “Why?” he asks.

  “Because they kicked me out of the house when I was eighteen. I got pregnant and they booted my ass.”

  Something angry washes over Weston’s face. “Does he not ask about his grandparents?”

  My chest constricts. “Yes.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  I watch him for a really long time. The more emotion on his face the more my body heats. “I’m going to take a bath,” I say.

  He doesn’t blink but realization that this conversation is over crosses his face. “Are you now?”

  My stomach twists as I walk toward my bedroom door. I don’t like to talk about my parents. I don’t talk about my parents actually. Nor do I think about them. It hurts too much. How can someone who claimed they loved you all of your life turn around and dump their pregnant daughter onto the street. Trash is what. The truth is that I don’t miss them. Since I had Maddox I know what true love is and what my parents gave wasn’t that.

  I turn to shut the door but Weston is standing in my doorway. His leg is better now and it stirs something inside of me. I haven’t had all of Weston Garrison.

  My cheeks flare from the way his eyes sweep over me. He is taking off each pair of clothing with his eyes. “That
wasn’t an invitation,” I say, taking a couple of steps to start the shower.

  Weston hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me to him. “Yes, it was,” he says in a gruff voice. “Don’t act like you haven’t been waiting for this all goddamn day.”

  I shiver, not only because he is right but because he feels right. Grabbing his jaw, I scratch my fingers against his scruff. “Take my clothes off,” I whisper against his lips.

  He curls his right hand around the back of my neck and forces me to stare at him. With his left hand he begins to slip my underwear off from underneath my dress. Once my underwear is in the corner of the bathroom, he leans in and gives me a hard kiss.

  One with something behind it. Five fingers dig into the side of my neck. “I can’t wait to get inside of you,” he whispers, reaching around to unzip my dress. He does with ease. Then he unclasps my bra and tosses it to the ground.

  The hand that undressed me slides against the curve of my ass and then up to cup my breast. “Why is it I’m completely naked and you’re still fully dressed?”

  “Because I want to look at you,” Weston whispers, his eyes rubbing me raw. My heart begins to thump wildly in my chest.

  Grabbing the hem of his shirt I pull it quickly over his head. He lifts an eyebrow. “Antsy?”

  I smile. “I’ve been waiting all goddamn day, remember?”

  He narrows his eyes but catches my wrists as I try to grab his zipper. “I’ll give you what you want—as hard as you want—when you agree to go to my first game with me? Coach is letting me sit in the stands and watch. I want Maddox and you to come with me.”

  Any voice I had gets stuck in my throat. He wants Maddox and me to come? An overwhelming feeling passes over me that I can’t pinpoint. It’s okay to go to the game. Maddox will love to see the game. I slowly nod.

  Weston steps forward, grabs my face and kisses me fiercely. I work on his jeans while he explores my mouth with his own. When we get his boxers off he grabs me underneath my legs and carries me into the shower.

  I’m wrapped in a wall of muscle. I ache everywhere for him. “I can’t wait to bury myself in you again,” he whispers against my cheek. Instead of letting me down he braces me against the wall and I wrap my legs around his waist.

  His cock presses against my pussy and my vision blurs. I want—need—him right fucking now. I grind downward and feel his length slide against me. “You better fucking stop,” he growls in my ear. “Or I’m not going to fucking last.”

  I grind down harder but he grabs my neck and keeps me still. “Roxanne,” he warns but I grind down again. Then he stills. “Wait I need to get a condom.”

  “On the pill. Please—now—fuck me. Now,” I whisper into his ear.

  He groans, and then he is inside of me. Every delicious inch of his cock inside of me. “Holy fuck,” he yells, grabbing the back of my hair and pulling on it gently. “So goddamn tight,” he eases forward, stretching me to his width. “Oh fuck,” he nips at my jaw. “You feel so good. So fucking good,” he groans.

  Settling his hands on my hips, he presses his forehead against my own. “I’m going to make you come on my dick,” he whispers, while water pours down on both of us. The warmth only adds to the excitement. He eases into me again and then out. I cry out and he covers my cry with a kiss. “That’s it, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

  All I needed to hear was the rough edge to his voice and I soar over the edge, gripping at his shoulders and riding his dick. “Come on Daddy’s dick,” he whispers, grinding into me harder.

  He pumps into me, stretching me wide and pounding me into oblivion. “Nobody else,” he finally blurts out. My body shivers from the direct command in his voice. “I want you to fuck nobody else,” he whispers against my ear. “Do you understand?”

  Oh, I understand. He’s marking me. Branding me from anyone else. “Say it,” he grinds harder into me.

  “No one else.”

  He slaps my ass hard. “Say it again.”

  “You. Only you,” I whimper.

  He growls and pumps into me harder before grabbing one side of my leg, twisting me around and lowering me to the ground without removing himself from me. Pressing my face against the shower wall, I fill fuller than before. Weston breathes in my scent and slides all the way into me.

  I cry out and clench my sex muscles around his width as he continues to pump into me from behind. I strain on my tip-toes and brace myself for each painfully blissful pump. He talks dirty in my ear as he grips my waist and pulls me back harder onto him. Then harder again until I’m coming around him … again.

  Weston grips the front of my neck and pushes any hair away before nipping where neck meets shoulder. “That’s right,” he whispers, pumping in and out of me two more times before coming inside of me. “Fucckk,” he groans.

  Soft lips trail down my neck to my shoulder. “I want to stay inside of you,” he whispers before slowly pulling himself out of me.

  I turn around and lean against the wet shower wall while Weston leans over me, one hand resting beside his head and the other stroking my cheek. “Good thing you don’t have to leave then, huh?” I whisper.

  A devious smile curls on Weston’s lip. “Good thing.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Roxy

  “Shit.”

  The box of new athletic tape drops from the top of the cabinet and hits the floor with a thud. Groaning, I sweep down to grab it and feel every inch of my soreness. Heat crawls up my neck thinking about last night. He was everything I’d been needing—wanting—and I didn’t even realize it. And he was right … I feel him every time I move.

  “Hey, Chica.”

  Shit. The athletic tape falls from my hands again. This time I don’t swoop down to pick it up. I carefully turn on my heel and look over at Blake. He’s shirtless, a wild look in his eyes. “Hey, Blake. What’s up?”

  He pulls his hair back into a ponytail. “Not much. Are you mad at me, Mami?”

  I shake my head fiercely and scratch the back of my neck. “No—No, not at all. I’ve just been busy.”

  Blake narrows his eyes and takes another step putting him in the room. “You feeling better? You were sick the other night, right?”

  I swear my mouth is dry. What is this the third degree? “Yes.”

  He leans against the counter and screws his mouth up. “Did you leave with Weston the other night?”

  God. How does he even know? I swallow a large lump in my throat and look up from the tile floor. “Listen Blake—,”

  He holds his hand up in front of his face. “I already know you did. One of my buddies saw you leave with him.”

  I sigh. “It’s not what it looks like,” I whisper. “I mean—it wasn’t, but now…”

  He scoffs and stands straight up. He’s mad. The vein in his forehead is bulging outward. “Do you know how this makes me look?” he yells, pointing a finger at me. “For you to leave me for—fucking Weston! He fucks girls and leaves them.” He tosses his hands in the air. “Do you think you’re any different?”

  “Actually—,”

  “Actually nothing!” he shouts and by now we have a few players’ attention from out in the hallway. Dom peaks his head around the corner and his eyes widen. But he disappears before I can ask for help.

  “Blake. We went out once and I had fun but it’s …”

  He leans forward, furrowing his brow. “It’s what? Finish your sentence. Stupid, puta,” he spits. I’m not Spanish but I know what that means.

  Embarrassment shoots up my throat and strangles me. How dare he? We just went out once and it wasn’t that much fun anyway. I clench my fingers into tight fists at my side. I open my mouth but shut it tight. Several more players are now staring in at us.

  “Move,” I hear. Then I see Weston barge through the crowd of football players. His cutoff white shirt, the sexy ones that players wear while they’re practicing, is hanging down just below his ribs. The tight blue football pants are unlaced in the front. God, if h
e didn’t look like death I’d rape him.

  “You got a fuckin’ problem, homie?” Weston asks stepping in front of me.

  Blake laughs. “Look who it is, the fucking cock-blocker. You think you can do whatever the fuck you want to do, don’t you?”

  Weston steps forward. “You sorry-ass mother fucker. You call her a bitch?” he asks, pointing back at me.

  Blake’s gaze drifts to me but Weston shoves him in the chest. “Don’t fuckin’ look at her. Did you call her a bitch?”

  Blake tilts his head backwards and gives him a smart ass smirk. “Yeah, I fucking called her—“

  Bam. Weston’s arm shoots back and knocks Blake square in the jaw. A loud crack pops and then the entire room shoots into chaos. Coach Turner is trying to shove his way into the room while the other players scramble to get in.

  Blake runs toward Weston, knocking him into the cabinet beside me. I yelp and duck behind one of the tables. “Stupid, mother fucker,” Weston yells slamming his fists into Blake’s side over and over while Blake tries to get his arms locked around Weston.

  Finally two players pull them off of each other. Weston’s eyes are dark and glossy. They both stare at each other while struggling to get loose.

  “What in the flying fuck is going on in here?!” Coach yells, tossing his hat onto the ground. “Someone better get to talking or everyone is running drills, goddammit!”

  For a crowded room you sure could hear a damn pin drop. Dammit. So, I step forward. “Um, Blake and I had an altercation. He called me a bitch and Weston stuck up for me.”

  Coach narrows his gaze at me. “Everyone get out,” he says over his shoulder but it’s clearly not meant for us. When the door clicks¸ he looks up and slams his hands down on his waist. “I already have one fucked up player and I don’t need another one! Now,” he points toward all three of us. “What is going on?”

  Weston’s heavy gaze settles on me for the first time and my thighs ache for him. A dark heated expression travels over his face. “Roxy and I are dating.”

  Oh, wow. The two people staring at me feels more like twenty right now. Coach lifts an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe Weston but he’ll take the bait. “Okay, so what does that have to do with you?” he points toward Blake.