Break Point

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “It’s over here.” I guided her toward the kitchen with my hand on her lower back. No reason to remove it this time.

  I flicked on the light and soft light flooded the room, reflecting off the yellow-enameled fridge.

  “Oh my God, that’s so cute. Even the phone is old-fashioned. You really are so old,” she teased.

  “Hey now.” I pinched her cheek.

  She quickly lifted the receiver and pushed the big gray buttons—*67 and then her number.

  “Hey, Mom,” she said softly. “I’m good. Staying out with some friends for a while. I’ll be late, but I’m okay.” She nodded while listening. “I will. ’Bye.”

  She hung up the receiver and looked at me, any remnants of the little girl in her long gone despite her having to call her mom. “She’s just protective now. Wants to know I’m all right and everything. Sometimes I feel like she’s worse than me.”

  “That’s because you’re a survivor, Jules. I wish I had your tenacity. When I left your kitchen last spring, that’s all I kept thinking. I need to be like that girl . . . woman. When my knee blew, I was a sad fuck.”

  She hopped up on the kitchen island, the pots and pans dangling from above almost grazing the top of her head, and I wedged between her legs. She cupped my face in her hands and placed a gentle kiss on my mouth. It spoke volumes, but she didn’t let her actions speak for her. She put her thoughts in words. This woman was brazen and bold, and I loved it.

  “You deserved time to be sad. You lost your hopes and dreams. That’s what you gave back to me with this position on the team.”

  “And we’re risking it all, right this very moment.” I owed her honesty in spades.

  “We’ll be careful. Smart. The draw is too strong.”

  I wasn’t afraid to let my actions do the talking, so I kissed her as the last word floated from her mouth. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and we ground into each other.

  “Open your eyes,” I told her. “I want to see you, all of you.”

  Her eyes were as green as the grass in the meadow outside, and I wanted to wander in them forever.

  Jules

  He told me to keep my eyes open, and I did. I focused on the ring of blue around his pupils, so honest and clear. I saw my hunger reflected back at me in a sea of honesty.

  “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable, a little less industrial,” he mumbled into my mouth.

  We released each other’s lips and he hoisted me around his waist, walking toward the back of the house. It was a ranch, and in the back was a large master bedroom with a massive king-sized poster bed situated in the middle.

  He set me down gently and knelt on the floor, taking off my boots before sliding his hands up my legs. He grasped my leggings and drew them down, retracing his steps for my underwear. When they were gone as well, I was spread open, glistening in front of him. He stood and tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor.

  And there are the famous tattoos.

  He didn’t waste any time, kicking off his shoes and shucking off his pants.

  Commando, yep. And wow. Large.

  He leaned over me, and the tip of his erection grazed my thigh. “One more thing.” He pulled my shirt over my head and made quick work of my bra.

  And then he was on me.

  He held his weight up on one elbow while he placed a trail of kisses over my collarbone, across my breast, and back to my nipple. There, he sucked on one while he toyed with the other. I squirmed, aiming for contact in the middle. His tip moved over my most sensitive spot, and I was so close to exploding, I had to bite down on my tongue.

  His free hand left my nipple to move down and trace my wetness before he slipped a finger inside. His mouth moved to my other nipple, laving and loving.

  My hands ran down his back while my eyes wandered his chest. A scorpion lay over his heart, a snake ran the length of his abs, and a crest covered his left pec.

  I brought one hand to his chest and traced the scorpion. “That’s pretty evil,” I said on a moan as he slipped another finger inside me.

  “It was there to protect my heart from the ill intentions of my family,” he mumbled. “More on that later.”

  His lips wrapped around my nipple and his fingers swirled on my most sensitive spot, and that was it. I exploded. My eyes finally snapped closed in ecstasy, Drew the only word in my language.

  He caressed me through the wave, slowing when I slowed, reading my body like a court in a doubles game.

  “All that from just my hand . . . Wonder what will happen when I get to use my mouth?” He chuckled as he shifted, running his length against my quivering heat.

  “How about you finally get inside me?”

  “Ready?” His voice was hoarse, his eyes mere slits, filled with passion and heat.

  When I nodded, he reached to the nightstand and grabbed protection, tearing the package open with his teeth.

  “King Drew.” As I taunted him, he continued to tease me, rubbing himself along me, but never entering.

  “Yes, Miss Juliette?”

  “I want you.”

  “Then you shall have me.”

  He entered me with one push, long and deep, sucking in a breath before withdrawing and settling into an easy pace with languid thrusts.

  I hooked a leg on his hip and he sped up, each time a little faster and harder, hitting just the spot. Like a fool in love, I went off again. I felt myself tightening around him and then he was with me, groaning and emptying into the condom.

  Drew

  I lifted her up and snatched back the covers, drawing them over us before plopping down and pulling her against me.

  Snatching my cell phone off the nightstand, I asked her, “Pizza? That’s about all we get out here, and it takes a while.”

  “Sounds good. I’m a vegetarian, though.”

  “No prob. One Meat Lovers Supreme coming up.”

  My hand drifted down and pinched her butt. It felt natural and familiar, this lying here with her. But it wasn’t.

  I murmured our order to the teen on the line and went back to cuddling with Jules.

  We made out leisurely—as if we had all the time in the world—and I got to see what happened when I used my mouth.

  And when she used hers, I teased her that she wasn’t truly a vegetarian.

  When the doorbell rang, I told her to stay put. Tossing on a pair of shorts, I grabbed the pizza and brought it back to bed. We ate it straight from the box, laughing and teasing.

  Yep, I definitely hadn’t been thinking straight when I got involved with my player, but could anything have stopped me?

  Doubtful.

  Even as I drove her home, stopping a few houses away from hers to drop her off and then watch her walk back to her childhood home, there was little I could do to convince myself that I didn’t want her.

  The next few weeks found me sinking deeper and deeper into this secret relationship with Jules. I rode her like a stallion at practice, kicking and prodding her to be better. And later, I did much the same in bed. My gut pinched every time I heard her make excuses to the team and her mom about where she was going, lying so she could be with me.

  On the nights I didn’t see Jules, I worried myself to sleep over how this could continue into the season. Then I would wake up in a cold sweat over it ending.

  We had one more late fall tournament before the holidays began, and then after winter break, the season would kick in. The day before we were supposed to travel to Pennsylvania to play an Ivy League squad, I walked into the Union, the weight of the world riding my shoulders. Some people had a debt monkey; I had my own personal guilt monkey.

  I needed caffeine and sugar to wake me the fuck up. Jules had come over the night before and slipped off her coat, revealing she was wearing her tennis whites. Except with nothing underneath. Her nipples plucked through her see-through white tank, and when she bent over to place her coat on the couch . . . oh fuck, stars flooded my eyes.

  There was h
er ass on full display, smooth and creamy, and a hint of promise between her legs. I slid right down behind her and took advantage of her being bare. My dick harder than it had ever been, I worshipped her, right there in my living room, my bad knee bent on the hardwood floor.

  I’d eaten her up, swallowed her release as her screams imprinted on my heart. “Drew, Drew,” was forever marked in my brain. When her breathing slowed, I climbed back up her body and bent her over the sofa and had my way with her . . . before having to take her home.

  I hadn’t slept at all afterward. My heart was twisted in knots, and my brain was even worse.

  So when I swept through the Union and glimpsed Jules in the corner with Hilary and Lulu, surrounded by ten guys, all athletes, all of them with eyes on my woman . . . I went nuts. Lamar had his usual perch right next to Jules, and she was laughing, fucking sparkling at something he’d just said.

  She didn’t see it, but she was a gem. My gem.

  I wanted to roar; I wanted to punch something, someone. I was so caught up in my caveman fantasy, I didn’t realize I’d walked into someone until hot coffee soaked the front of my shirt.

  “Shit,” I muttered, suddenly remembering I was a coach and at the university where I worked.

  “Dude, you fucking walked straight into me!” some young thing yelled at me.

  Hell, they were all young things, except for Jules.

  “I’m sorry, I’ll get you another,” I said in a low voice, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention.

  But Jules had seen me. Green eyes bore into me from the other side of the Union, and I could feel their heat and disappointment. She needed to keep up appearances, and it was me who wasn’t helping.

  Yanking my wallet out of my back pocket, I tossed a ten at the girl and escaped out the back door.

  Jules

  Oh no, he wasn’t getting away with that bullshit. I excused myself from the table, claiming my mom wanted to see me this afternoon, and ran out the front of the building. Ducking to the left, I made my way around the back and off to the athletic complex.

  Fucker. He wasn’t allowed to stalk me like that.

  I had to appear normal, even though I was screwing the coach. He needed to put up a normal front too.

  Inside the building, I went straight to his office and found him stewing at his desk. His head was buried in his hands with his elbows planted on the desk, putting those sexy forearms on display.

  “King?” When I saw him hurting, the irritation and rage fled my body. All I wanted to do was comfort him.

  “I’m sorry, Jules,” he said in a hoarse whisper, and his next words were softer, barely audible. “I freaked.”

  I walked in and shut the door, then locked it behind me. “None of them mean anything to me.”

  “I don’t like this. I want us to be out in the open. You and me on a restaurant date, not Chinese takeout or pizza delivery, hiding at my house. You deserve hand holding and PDA. This is wrong.”

  “Don’t,” I begged, my entire body going tense at the fear of where this was going.

  “It’s wrong, and I take all the responsibility.”

  I shook my head and walked around the desk, taking in his dark-washed jeans and rumpled hair. His Henley tugged and pulled around his biceps; his head hung low as he pulled on the back of his neck.

  I sat in his lap and kissed his cheek. “I’m yours,” I said into his ear before biting his lobe.

  Apparently, I didn’t need to say any more, because he picked me up and laid me out on his desk. Within seconds, my shoes were off, my pants on the floor, and my shirt over my head.

  I whispered, “King Drew,” and he growled in return. One finger was inside me, then two, readying me, but I didn’t need it. I was always ready for him.

  His mouth was on my nipple, his hand pumping into me, the light shift of the desk humming around us. I banged the back of my head on the desk as my climax hit me, and my back arched. It didn’t matter—I felt too good to care.

  And then he was in me, fast and deep, his movements desperate, urgent. He was also bare, but I didn’t say anything. Drew was in some kind of state, determined to mark me and make me his. He didn’t realize he already had.

  Something amazing built inside me, then exploded as he stiffened, pumping his feelings into me. We kissed, our tongues dueling, swallowing each other’s cries of ecstasy.

  And then came the knock.

  “Coach, it’s Stacia. Are you here?”

  Jules

  We got a lucky break yesterday—I’d hidden under the desk while Drew threw his clothes back on. He pretended to be leaving and cut Stacia off at the door, asking her, “What’s up?” while pulling it closed behind him.

  After I heard their footsteps retreat, I came out from under the desk and slipped on my clothes. Then I snuck out, looking both ways before leaving the building.

  Now as I made my way around Hafton’s campus, my bike tires crunching along the fallen leaves as I pedaled to the athletic complex, I knew we had to be more careful.

  As I said good-bye to my mom that morning, I promised myself to do better, to watch my back and King’s. She was off to her job in the registrar’s office, and I was on my way to Psych. My teammates hadn’t been in class, which was why I headed to the complex as soon as class was dismissed. Something was up, and I hoped like hell it had nothing to do with me.

  The heavy door banged behind me, and before I even made it twenty feet, Lulu came running up to me.

  “Shit, Jules, we didn’t know how the hell to reach you. Thank God you’re here. Emergency meeting in the weight room. Now.”

  She pulled me down the hall and into the bright lights of the gym. Everyone was seated on various weight benches, their legs stretched out in front of them, a mishmash of leggings and skinny jeans. I sat on an empty bench and pulled my legs under me Indian-style.

  Crisscross applesauce, my old teacher used to say.

  There were whispers and hushed speculation, but no one stared at me or mentioned my name. Whispered snatches of King, breakdown, too young floated around me.

  “Morning, ladies.” The athletic director walked into the complex with a tall bald guy on his right. “Thank you for getting together on such short notice. As of last evening, Coach King resigned. It seems that the coaching job was too much for him at this time. We were lucky to be able to bring Coach Hall out of retirement for this season while we look for a replacement.”

  A chorus of What? Why? What the heck? filled the room.

  “I know it’s a disappointment. You all did very well with Coach King over the last two years, and he worked hard to get the team where it is, but Hall is a longtime Hafton coach and employee, and a devoted fan. He will do right by you. And now I’ll leave him to discuss the schedule with you.”

  I didn’t hear a word of what Hall said. He rambled about the season coming upon us quickly, January, mandatory practices, and optional workouts.

  My head spun. King was gone.

  He didn’t say good-bye. Not that he could have called my house and said to my mom, “Excuse me, Mrs. Smith, but I’ve been sleeping with your daughter and now I’m running away, so . . .”

  Maybe he was still at his house? If I had a phone, I could Uber there. But I didn’t.

  Fucking crap, my mom and her stupid plan to erase what happened by sheltering me from any further scandals by keeping me unplugged. She would absolutely shit if she knew what happened this go-round.

  I’d have to come up with an excuse. Borrow her car and go to his house. Now.

  I grabbed my stomach and pretended to be sick. Actually, I full-on felt sick. I was having some bad reaction to Drew disappearing.

  “I’m sorry, Coach Hall. I’m not feeling well.”

  “You’re excused,” he said, his tone all business.

  His voice didn’t make my legs shake; his eyes didn’t make me feel weak in the knees.

  I wanted King back.

  Despite my insistence to my mom in the beg
inning of the year to keep her distance from me at school and give me space, I rushed to the registrar’s office. She was surprised to see me, and my stomach clenched as I lied to her, made up a story about a fellow player needing to get to a doctor’s appointment, and how I volunteered.

  “I need to borrow your car,” I asked quietly.

  “I’m so glad you’re making friends,” she said.

  If she only knew.

  Then I rushed to his house, taking the turns that had been committed to memory from riding beside him. When I pulled up in front, I blanched at the sight of the FOR SALE sign in his front yard and the U-Haul parked around back. The front door was open and King walked through it, carrying out a box.

  When I got out and slammed the door on my mom’s sedan, he looked up, shock and fear on his face.

  “Jules, you shouldn’t be here,” he said sternly, his brow furrowed.

  “Why? You changed your mind?” I felt some psycho Basic Instinct boil-the-bunny shit flowing through my veins.

  “No,” he said quietly, setting down the box he was holding before walking toward me. “I want what’s best for you, and this isn’t it.”

  “You don’t get to decide that.” My words were steady as I planted my feet in his driveway and stood firm, refusing to move an inch.

  “I do. One scandal was enough for you. You don’t need this. Or me.”

  He leaned forward and his lips touched mine in a closed-mouth kiss, full of regret but no fire, as his arm slid around my back and pulled me tight. It was a good-bye kiss, no doubt about it.

  I felt his hard abs, the beginning of an erection, and his rapid heartbeat. It was thumping so hard and fast, it felt like it was going to leap out of his chest. How could he think this was wrong? That we were wrong?

  He pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against mine. I sensed him breathe me in as he ran his nose along my hairline, and I wrapped my arms around his waist.

  I clutched him tightly like a toy on Christmas morning. I wasn’t going to let him go.

  “I have to go, Jules. This isn’t going to end well for either of us, and I want . . . I need it to end well for you.”