by Mazzy King
I glance up at him. “I don’t. Do you?”
“Hell no.” He leans forward, reaching for my hand. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since spring break.”
I swallow. “Why didn’t I know that?”
Tommy sighs. “I guess…I didn’t know how you felt about it. I mean, it was more than a kiss to me. I’ve had a crazy crush on you since I first met you, Aggie. But I didn’t know how Tyler would feel about it, and…” He shrugs. “I’m a coward. I don’t have an excuse. I should’ve called.”
“If you had,” I say quietly, “you would’ve found out I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, either.”
One side of his mouth curves up. “I’m sorry about the circumstances, but I’m glad you’re here. Really glad. Come here.”
His deep voice lowers to a whisper as he pulls me into his arms. I straddle his lap as he tips my head down to his. Our kisses are immediately deep and wet. For the first time since meeting, we’re totally alone with no interruptions.
Tommy brushes my hair over my shoulder, his lips deliberate and leisurely, his tongue slow and clever. Beneath me, pressed between my legs, I feel him growing hard. The bulge he makes is thick and large.
He slides a hand down my back to my hip, pushing on it lightly, encouraging me to grind against him slowly. I can’t believe how good that feels.
We stay like that for long, delicious minutes until our kisses grow more frantic, the grinding faster, harder.
“Tommy, I want you,” I confess in his ear.
He bites his lip, a grunt rumbling deep in his chest. “I don’t do one-night-stands, Aggie. If I have you in my bed, you’re mine.”
“Then I’m yours,” I whisper. “Take me.”
Tommy stands up with me still in his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me down a short hallway to his bedroom. It’s neat, like the rest of his house.
He lays me down on his king-size bed. It practically takes up the whole room. Then he unlaces each of my sneakers and slowly slides them and my socks off my feet. Then he reaches for my jeans and pops the button, taking his sweet time lowering the zipper, then pulling them over my hips and down my legs.
I pant with excitement, my heart beating fast. He takes a moment to stand back and pull his shirt over his head, and another rush of need flies through me. His body is nothing short of perfect. Even with just the moonlight steaming in between the blinds, I can see every ridge of his abs, every curve and striation in his shoulders and chest.
He leans down to trail kisses up my legs and thighs. Then he tugs my shirt over my head and follows it up with a slow, deep kiss.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against my mouth. “The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He dips his head to skim the side of my neck with his lips, then teases the pulse under my jaw with the tip of his tongue. “I want to taste you…everywhere.”
He strokes a finger between my thighs, over the crotch of my panties, to drive home his point. The slight touch makes me tremble.
Tommy removes my strapless bra, freeing my breasts. They practically fall into his mouth and hands. He squeezes one and teases the nipple of the other one, and I tip my head back and moan softly. He’s driving me absolutely crazy, and my pussy throbs with need. I know as soon as he touches me without my panties in the way, I’ll come immediately.
“Time for these to go,” he teases in a raspy voice, tugging my panties off my hips. Then he slowly parts my thighs, running his hands all over them before sliding one finger, then another inside me. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet.”
“I want you, Tommy,” I say breathlessly.
He lifts his fingers to his mouth, meeting my gaze as he sucks my juice off them. “Sweet.” He pushes my knees back and settles between my thighs. A second later, his warm tongue slides all over me, inside me, and he sucks my clit. As I knew I would, I come immediately with a cry.
He lets me catch my breath, then lowers his mouth again. He parts me with the tip of his tongue, then starts consuming me with hot, slow licks, pausing to tease my clit every so often before pulling it between his lips and stroking it with his tongue at the same time.
I’m mindless with pleasure and explode against his mouth a second later. “Fuck, Tommy!”
Licking his lips, he holds himself above me, then kisses me deeply. “That won’t be the last time you call my name, baby.”
He reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a condom, opening it quickly and rolling it on. Then he settles between my legs, his long, thick cock in one hand as he guides it to me and pushes in slowly.
“Oh, God,” I gasp as he parts me with a slowness that sets me on fire. “You feel so good.”
His mouth is beside my ear. “So do you…so tight and wet.”
Our lips and tongues find each other as he works his hips in a slow grind, filling and stretching me like no one ever has before.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you.”
“I wanted you too,” I breathe, tipping my head back as he thrusts harder, deeper. “Oh, Tommy, I’m going to come!”
“I told you, you were going to say my name again,” he teases in my ear.
The hot pleasure steadily building between my thighs reaches its limit and I explode into a million pieces with him buried deep inside me. Tommy’s hips pick up speed as he fucks me hard and fast, and then he lets out a deep, low groan as he comes, his body shaking hard.
“Fuck, Aggie,” he says breathlessly in my ear.
My lips curve into a sleepy smile. “That’s right. Say my name.”
He nuzzles my ear, chuckling. “Can’t help it. You’re amazing.”
I reach up to run my fingers through his hair. “Can I stay with you tonight? Please? I don’t want to be alone, but…I want to be with you.”
Tommy tilts his head to kiss me. “You can stay with me as long as you want to. I’m not going anywhere.”
A few minutes later, after cleaning up a little, we curl together in his bed. His strong arms are tight around me, his fingers playing in my hair, and I finally feel it’s safe to close my eyes.
5
Tommy
The vigil, held in the student union around the huge, decorative fountain in the middle of the square, is packed. That’s not surprising, since Tyler was so popular.
Is. Is, goddammit. He’s not gone.
I’m wearing a light, hooded sweatshirt tonight against a strange, cool summer breeze. But suddenly it feels like the temperature drops below freezing.
Aggie’s hand suddenly slips into mine. When I look at her, I get the feeling she’s having the same thought as me.
“It’s all right,” I murmur.
She nods, drawing and releasing a deep breath. Then she stiffens. “My parents.”
I glance up as Mr. and Mrs. Russo walk toward us. Shit. I want to turn and run. So I hold Aggie’s hand tighter and stand up straight.
“What are you doing with him, Augustina?” Mrs. Russo demands.
Aggie slides her arm through mine. “Whatever you think he did, he didn’t do.”
“He hosted a party with drugs that put your brother in a coma,” Mr. Russo says flatly, and I wince. On the surface, that’s exactly what happened.
“He’s a victim of circumstance as much as anyone,” Aggie argues.
Mr. Russo shifts his gaze to me. “I heard your cousin is a detective on the force.”
“That’s right,” I say, lifting my chin. I’m not about to disrespect Aggie and Tyler’s parents, but I’m also not going to take any shit, either.
Mr. Russo’s lip curls. “No wonder you got off so easily.”
Fury bubbles in my chest. “Are you implying something?’
“I think I said it pretty loud and clear,” Aggie’s father replies.
“Cut it out,” Aggie says sharply, holding up a hand. “This is Tyler’s vigil, for God’s sake.”
“It’s f
ine.” I spot Coach Rundle talking to a couple of players. “I need to go talk to Coach, anyway.”
I squeeze Aggie’s hand and step away without another word or glance at her parents. I don’t actually have a need to talk to Coach Rundle, but I do need to get the hell out of this conversation. Not only because it’s pissing me off, but because I’m this close to blurting out the truth of why I got off and what I’m doing. I’m close to blurting out I’m one of the good guys.
“Tommy,” Coach says when I reach him, clapping me on the shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
I shrug. “Fine, I guess. Just taking it all one day at a time. That’s all any of us can do.”
Coach nods. “That’s right. I just wanted to tell you again what a great job you’re doing at practice. I know the pressure is building.”
“Yeah.” I swallow the lump that suddenly fills my throat. “Big shoes to fill.”
Coach gives me a pensive look. “You know, it doesn’t have to be so hard.”
“What do you mean?”
“The pressure to perform. To fill those big shoes. It can be easier.”
I shake my head. “I don’t follow. Are you telling me to quit the team?”
Coach chuckles gently. “No. Absolutely not. I think you’re a brilliant athlete. What I mean is, it can be a lot, to work out and run and practice and worry about if you’re building enough strength to hold your own against other players. And there are ways to make that easier. Ways to make you stronger.”
Something greasy and sick rolls in my gut. No. No. No.
“S-stronger?” I echo lamely.
Coach nods, studying my face. “It’ll seem scarier than it is. But I promise, it’ll help you.” He glances around. “Listen, why don’t you meet me in my office in fifteen minutes or so? We can talk more there.”
I just nod.
He pats my arm. “Good lad. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I watch him walk away, feeling like I can’t move.
I hope I’m jumping to conclusions. I hope I’m overreacting. I hope to God I’m wrong.
But my instincts, that I’ve come to learn to hone and listen to and trust, thanks to my training at the hands of the city’s finest, tells me I’m not wrong.
“Tommy? Are you all right?”
I turn. Aggie looks at me, wearing a worried expression. The breeze blows strands of her raven hair across her face.
Taking a deep breath, I walk toward her. “I’m okay,” I say, forcing a neutral tone in my voice. I reach up to brush her hair away from her face. “Coach just wants to talk to me in his office.”
Her dark brows draw together. “Is everything all right?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’ll catch up with you after, okay?”
“Okay,” she says, a little uncertainly.
I stroke her cheek, then kiss her. “See you in a bit.”
Without a backward glance, I head off across the union square in the direction Coach went. In a few minutes, I reach the athletic building and walk down the hall to his office. A few feet away, I’m suddenly hit with an idea borne of my newly honed instincts and training. I find the voice memo app on my phone and turn it on, then stick my phone in my pocket, hoping it’ll still pick up our conversation.
“Hey, champ,” he says brightly when I step inside. “Shut the door and have a seat.”
Shut the door when there’s no one else in the building? But I comply. “What did you mean out there?” I ask, shifting in the chair. “About something to help with the pressure. Something to make me stronger.”
He leans across the desk, folding his hands. “Think of it as a supplement, Tommy. You’ve taken supplements before?”
I lift a shoulder. “Yeah, I guess.”
“It’s just like that.” He reaches into a drawer in his desk and retrieves a small, unlabeled pill bottle. “Take two of these a day. When you run out, come see me and I’ll get you more.”
He hands me the pill bottle. I take it, willing my hand not to tremble.
“What…what are these?”
Coach stares at me impassively. “Supplements.”
I tilt my head. “C’mon, Coach.”
He sighs. “What does it matter what they’re called? They’ll help you. The name gets a bad rap.”
“I can handle it. I’m not taking anything if I don’t know what it is.”
Coach Rundle glances off to the side as if weighing the decision. “Steroids, Tommy. They’re steroids.”
The hoodie I wear over my T-shirt against the rare chill in the summer air tonight suddenly feels too stifling.
He lifts his brows. “Does that make you feel better? Because you look sick.”
I’m not sure how to answer him. I do feel sick, but the look on his face has suddenly shifted from a friendly and helpful dad-type to something far more sinister.
Coach Rundle stands up, walks around the desk to where I sit, and stares down at me. “Stand up, Tommy.”
Shit. Slowly, never taking my eyes off him, I rise. We’re almost eye-to-eye. He has about two inches of height on me.
Eyes narrowed, he says, “I need to know if you can handle this or not. This gift I’m giving you, and the privilege of starting this fall. Of being on the team at all.”
Whoa, is that a threat?
“I just…” I stare down at the pill bottle on the desk. “Do the other guys take that stuff?”
“Yes,” he says steadily. “You saw how well they’ve been doing the past couple seasons.”
“And…Tyler?”
“He was like you. A little resistant at first. Had a few misconceptions. Then he gave it a try, decided he liked it when he saw how much it was doing for him.”
“Then how did he end up in a coma?”
Coach waves a hand. “It won’t happen again. I guess I got some bad stuff from my supplier overseas. I sure gave him hell when Tyler was hospitalized, and he assured me it wouldn’t happen again. What you’ve got there is prime, Grade-A stuff.”
I lift my gaze to his face. “Have you tried it?”
He tips his head, his eyes blazing. “I don’t need to. You’re the athlete. Not me.”
“What happens if the other guys get a hold of some bad stuff and the same thing happens to them?”
Coach shrugs. “There are hundreds of players who would love to come to this school. Some who are already serious about doing what it takes to be a successful athlete.” He peers at me intently. “Are you serious, Tommy?”
Coach Rundle, the man I’ve known my entire college career, the man who’s been something like a second father to me, especially when my own seems so utterly disappointed in me, is a drug dealer. And not only that, but he doesn’t give a flying fuck about any one of us. Not Tyler, not the other guys, and damn sure not me.
I clench my jaw, glancing down at the pills. The tension in the room grows heavier and heavier as the seconds tick by. Then I look up at him. “Yeah. I’m serious.”
A dark smile spreads across his face. “Good man. It should go without saying, but this conversation stays in this room. However, you might ask around the team. Or even some regular guys on campus. Find out if they’d like to try these supplements too.” He picks up the bottle and pushes it into my chest. I grab it and hastily tuck it into a pocket.
This asshole wants me to be a pusher.
“Do you have other guys on the team…asking around?”
“Of course. And fielding interested inquiries.”
The guy I chased off at the party might well have been one of my teammates. I didn’t recognize him, so he might not have recognized me.
Coach grabs my shoulders, back to the friendly dad persona. “Listen, bud, just go home and think it over. Take them with you. Take a few doses, see how you feel. I know it can be a little scary, but it’s all for the best.”
I nod. “Sure, Coach.”
He pats me. “Okay, now. Get on back to the vigil.”
“Goodnight.” I turn and walk out of his office, trying t
o appear as natural as possible, but I’m shaking with anger.
Outside the building, I take a few steps back toward the student union, pulling my phone out. I stop the recording, then pull up my texts.
Me: Got some stuff and info. Urgent.
Rhys: I’ll let the other guys know. Can you get down to HQ tonight?
Me: I’m on my way now.
Rhys: Meet you there. Be prepared to lay low for a few days. No contact with anybody until we get this squared away.
“Tommy? Everything okay?”
I look up, fumbling to stash my phone. There’s Aggie, walking toward me. A surge goes through me at the sight of her. When she’s close, I pull her into my arms and hug her tight.
She lets out a little oof of surprise but doesn’t hesitate to hug me back just as tightly. “You’re…quivering,” she says softly. “What’s wrong?”
I want to tell her. I want to tell her everything, but if I do, I’ll blow my cover. And I’m so close to being done with this that I can’t risk blowing it. I have a feeling—those good old instincts again—the fallout from all of this is going to be fucking monumental, and I do not want Aggie getting mixed up in it.
“Nothing,” I tell her, willing myself to stop shaking. “I just—nothing.” To distract her as much as me, I slide my hands under her silky hair and tip her head toward mine. I meant to kiss her leisurely, as if I have all the time in the world, but my lips become needy, and our kisses turn deep and wet and fierce.
She hums, gripping handfuls of my jacket as she tilts her head back. “Take me home, Tommy.”
I close my eyes against the urgent desire in her voice. I’m about to agree when I catch myself. I have to go to HQ tonight. I have to.
“I…have to do something tonight,” I tell her, knowing that’s never going to fly with an aspiring investigative journalist.
She tilts her head, the desire dissipating from her face. Suspicion takes its place. “Do what? Where are you going?” She tugs on my jacket.
An answering rattle from my pocket might as well be as loud as a gunshot.
In a flash, her hand is there, grabbing the bottle, pulling it out. In another second she pops the lid and pours a few of the contents into her palm.
