I fucked it up, making too big of a deal about her slip of the tongue. Girl’s got a few barriers. Someone hurt her—someone she cared about—hard, and she’s worried. Not just for herself, but for her brother. I can get behind that, and even better, I understand it. If Ty had gotten the ass end of a stick, I’d be wary, too. And wasn’t that about half the reason I haven’t been laying pipe the whole time I’ve been here?
I blame my asshole attitude on the fact that most of my thinking power went in my pants last week. Jesus, the first taste of her was enough for me to shoot my wad. I already hovered on the razor’s edge just by kissing her thigh. Who knew that particular part of the body felt so soft?
All week I couldn’t get the taste and feel out of my mind. I’d fucked my fist so hard and so often it’s a miracle my dick isn’t so much raw meat right now.
I exchange high fives, receive back slaps, and more than a few invitations, but my gaze doesn’t waver. There’s only one girl for me, and if she doesn’t show up, then I’ll go to her.
So what if her head wasn’t in the same place mine is? Maybe the universe doesn’t move at the same rate for her. In the meantime, I need more of her. I’ve only had a sample, but I wasn’t lying when I told her I could have stayed between her shaking legs all week. Nothing on this fine earth tastes as good as she does.
Early on, after I’d decided I would wait, I’d marked below the waist as a no go zone. I pride myself on my personal self-control and self-discipline, but even I knew that a hand below the waist meant clothes would come off and the virginity thing would be in the past. It’s also why I didn’t move to the bed even though Ellie panted that word like it was the only one in her vocabulary.
A bed and Ellie made too much temptation for a poor boy like me to resist. But I’m done resisting. I’m done making demands. I’ll lay myself at her pretty little toes and smile if she decides to walk all over me. Because eventually, eventually, I’ll wear her down. Eventually I’ll get her. Like I’ve read every offense. The first time it might take me by surprise, but after a little film, a helluva lot of practice, there’s no O-line that can stop me. No barrier I can’t overcome. No defense I can’t wear down. Eventually.
I glance at my phone. Its blank screen mocks me, as does the door that opens, but never seems to spit out the one person I want to see. Time to take the mountain to Mohammed then. I look around the room to check on my guys. Matty, Hammer, and Jesse take up one side of the bar. Matty nods at me. He’s in charge and will make sure our side of the field gets home. Ace sits in the corner staring hungrily across the room at Stella, who’s talking to some basketball player. Ace looks like he’s about to throw the beer bottle into the guy’s head, and the way he tossed the ball around today like a dart and not some awkward oblong piece of leather meant he’d make good contact.
I stride over. “You’re not fooling anyone. Keep your head in the game. Play like that next week, and we’ll wear the crown.”
Ace rolls the bottle in his hand and then glances over my shoulder. “We’re not all made like you, Masters. Some of us have a life outside the game. Some of us want a life outside the game.” He tips his head back and drains his bottle.
I set the drink someone shoved into my hand in front of him. “Then go get that game. Don’t sit on your ass waiting for it to come to you.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” Ace mocks. “Pursuing your objective? Because I haven’t seen Campbell’s sister tonight anywhere.”
It stings a little, but not so much that I can’t provide an even response. “That’s why I’m leaving.”
“Or maybe she doesn’t want to be with you.” He tips his head toward the front of the bar, where Ellie stands wearing a shirt that must be too big for her, because the shoulder keeps slipping down to expose a golden circle of skin. A circle of skin that some dickhead is staring at.
Ace grabs me as I start to stalk toward them. “Be gentle. We need that dickhead.”
I must’ve said something out loud. I shrug him off. “We never reach that far into the wideout depth chart anyway.”
Hopefully he only needs one hand to catch the ball, because the one he laid on Ellie's shoulder is getting ripped off.
“Mother o’ God, who’s the smokeshow?” Matty whistles near my ear.
“Ellie Campbell,” I say abruptly.
“No shit?” he asks, following close behind as I cut a swath through the bar patrons. “I don’t remember her being so, ah, fit. The whole makeup thing and big hair really looks good on her.”
“Go away, Matty.”
“Gone.”
The freshman leans close to her, his eyes bright with excitement as he uses his height to leer down the front of Ellie's shirt.
“Hey, Emma, right?”
“Close…I’m Eliot.” She dips her shoulder down until the dillweed’s hand falls away. But that motion only serves to drop her shirt farther down her arm. The fabric of the top clings to the tops of her breasts and the big hoop earrings she wears flash in the light. She’s wearing a lot of smoky eye makeup and red lipstick and all it says to me is fuck me, fuck me hard. “This is my roommate, Riley.”
She tugs her tiny roommate’s arm forward.
“Riley? Eliot? Are you two...guys?” Asshole frowns.
“That’s right. We’re two guys.” She looks at Riley, who smothers a laugh behind her hand.
“Hey, Knox.” Riley waves. “Enjoy your book?”
“I did, thanks for asking. Need something to drink?”
“Sure. I’ll have whatever is light on tap.”
I tip my chin toward the bartender to get his attention and then turn toward Ellie, but before I can take her order, the dipshit starts talking again.
“Ah, right. We met at Hammer’s party. The Coke drinker.”
I can almost hear her eyes roll in her head but she gives him a courtesy smile.
“You planning to have some fun tonight or drink your Coke?”
Somehow, despite being a few inches shorter than the idiot, she manages to look down her nose at him. “I plan to have zero fun tonight and you’re doing a good job of making that happen for me.”
He scratches his nose in confusion because he apparently can’t make out whether she insulted him or complimented him. “Did you watch the game today? I play the slot receiver. Number 87. Maybe you saw me on the field?”
If you looked at the sidelines.
“I don’t go to the games,” Ellie tells him.
He doesn’t give up because she’s the hottest, brightest thing in this room. “So you wanna dance?”
“Not with you.”
Because she’s with me, you chode. I keep that to myself.
“Ellie, you want something?” I step in between them, tired of watching the exchange like a bystander.
“Sure, Knox. I’ll take what Riley’s having.”
I don’t miss the emphasis she puts on my first name. I hold up two fingers and the bartender gets to work.
“I didn’t know if you would come.”
She shrugs. “Riley wanted to see what a postgame celebration looked like. I tried to tell her she’d have as much fun as getting magic marker drawn on your face at a slumber party, but she didn’t believe me.”
“I haven’t had this experience at Western before.” Riley grins widely at me. I find myself smiling back.
The bartender delivers two beers and a water. I hand them out.
“Then you need to have a full Western experience.” I look around for Matty, who would be more than happy to introduce Ellie’s roommate to all the benefits of being with a Warrior player—at least for tonight.
Before I can hail anyone, Riley gasps. “Oh, there’s my Facebook crush! I’ll be back.” And she slips through the crowd before Ellie or I can say anything.
A cough at my back reminds me that the dick koozie must still be here. “Hey, Knox. Great game, huh? I was telling Emma here about how she should come watch the Warriors.”
“Yeah…” I
pause as if I can't remember the name of the wideout. I know he runs fast, but runs a sloppy route and catches the ball too close to his body despite having baseball-sized mitts. He scowls as I leave him hanging but since he can’t even bother to get her name right, I don’t care. “Greer giving you a bad time?” I say to Ellie.
She does a subtle eye roll that Greer misses. “Took you long enough.”
I’m not sure if she’s talking about how long it took me to get to her side or how long it took me to pretend to remember Greer’s name.
“I’m saving my energy for later.”
Her mouth drops open into a perfect circle that gives me plenty of filthy ideas. And then, because I don’t want to deal with anymore Greers in the world not understanding how the teams are currently set up, with Ellie and me on the one side and the rest of the peckerheads on the other, I grab her around the nape of the neck and plant a deep, wet kiss on her perfect lips. Her mouth opens and I take full advantage of this by sliding my tongue inside. I lick her hot tongue, the roof of her mouth and then the sensitive spot behind her teeth. She trembles beneath my hand and blood rushes to my dick.
Greer gets shoved aside but I’m not sure if me or Ellie did the pushing. She backs away, lips swollen and red as cherries.
I turn to Greer. “Go away.”
He shows his remarkable speed and disappears into the crowd.
“Want to sit down somewhere?” I ask her. Every time the door opens, more people come in, and while I’m grateful to be pressed close to Ellie's hot-ass body, I’d like to be able to apologize to her without screaming.
She arches an eyebrow because there isn’t any seating evident in the room.
“I forget this is your first time.” I plaster her to my side and make my way toward the back. Down at the end of the bar I see Jack watching us with narrowed eyes. Brother, I’m sorry you had to watch me maul your sister, I apologize silently, but it was either kiss her in front of everyone or piss on her leg.
I lead her down a short dark hallway and out into the back that opens onto a tiny patio the size of a postage stamp. There’s a couple of people out here. Telly Green sits with his longtime girlfriend, along with Clifton Knowles, another offensive lineman. Their girlfriends are sorority sisters. I give them a nod of acknowledgement and go to the opposite side of the patio, where there’s a cropping of uncomfortable looking rocks.
“Just think, Ellie, once you graduate you’ll never go to a place this classy again,” I joke and brush my hand over one rock until it’s as clean as I can get it.
She sits. “Rocks are hard to find in other establishments.”
“Right?” I crouch down in front of her. She looks shy, which is not how she’s appeared before. I clear my throat. “I’m glad you’re here. Thought you might not come.”
“I debated. Not really my scene.” We both turn to stare at the back door. The music is loud, but the din of the crowd inside is even louder. It’s a party scene, but I get what she’s talking about. She prefers to stay away from the football players and the baggage they bring. For the hundredth time since last weekend, I curse myself for not being more sensitive about her past.
Picking up her hand, I turn it over and trace one of the creases from one side of the palm to the other. She trembles at the simple touch.
“I’m sorry about last week. I put some pressure on you that you didn’t deserve,” I say slowly. “I guess when I said that you weren’t ready I really meant that I wasn’t.”
She curls her fingers up around my finger and tugs. “I know you’re not the guy I dated in high school. I wanted to believe I didn’t have any baggage from dating, but I guess I do.” She gives a rueful laugh.
“You’re not. We all have stuff going on in our heads. Abstaining hasn’t been easy for me. When I first got here, I didn’t announce my status, but to some of the guys my going home every night alone, not taking the offers handed to me, marked me as strange. Some thought I was in the closet. Others didn’t know what to make of me. They got it out of me after homecoming. The booze flowed pretty heavily. It started a joke. Then it became a contest. Who would get Masters to break? I wasn’t kidding before about the number of girls available at any time—from the recruiting trip forward.”
She grimaces and I skip the details of how they tried to break me. Of how they’d parade girls through the Playground as though shooting RedTube videos. They’d have girls perform in front of me. For guys who share a locker room, having sex in front of each other is nothing. There’d be full-on orgies. Contests on who could hold out on a blow job the longest. They’d run train on a girl—willing—but sex was a contest.
“Is that why you waited? Because women were—or are—a distraction?”
“At first, yes. All the time. You know we’re walking hormones from about age ten and forward.” She covers her face to hide a smile. “And college is worse because there are no parents. Everyone has access to a bed. There’s no rules. The diner is open 24/7.”
She muses, “But the food didn’t appeal to you.”
“It did…until it didn’t. It seemed soulless.” I hesitate and rub her hand a little harder than necessary. Strap on your balls, man, I chide myself. If Ellie can share something painful from her past, she deserves some honesty from me. “My brother and I are identical twins. You seem to be able to tell us apart, but on the cover of SI, not even my mom knew until we confessed. People in high school always got us mixed up.”
“People like girl people?” Her gaze is knowing.
I nod. “Girl people. You don’t really want to be with someone who’s ready and willing to sleep with your brother. Who sees the two of you as interchangeable. One of Ty’s girlfriends told me that we looked the same and she wanted to know if we felt the same.”
I let out a sigh. “Worse thing is that it wasn’t the first time it’d happened in our family either. My cousins are twins. Let’s just say that the divorce lasted longer than the marriage.”
She winces. “That’s pretty awful.”
“Right.” I press her hand to my lips. “So, I get how what happened to us in the past affects how we act now. What decisions we make and shit like that. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. I’m really, really sorry.” She looks dejected.
“Look.” I shift on the balls of my feet. “I don’t care what you call me, Ellie. I want you. I’ve wanted you from the minute I saw you at Union Stadium and I haven’t stopped wanting you. I don’t think you’re a distraction or a soulless fuck. We’re meant to be.”
She gives me a tight and uncomfortable smile. Oh, fuck. This isn’t going to end the way that I hoped. A slight ache develops in my chest. The kind of feeling that creeps up after a bad loss.
“What is it?”
She leans forward with a grimace. “It’s that time of the month.”
I give her a blank look. What time of the month? It’s September. Two weeks into the season. We’re two-and-oh and—the lightbulb turns on. “I am not a smart man.”
She shakes her head. “Timing sucks.”
I stand up and pull her with me. Leaning down, I hide a relieved smile in her hair. “It’s okay. I’m a pro at waiting.”
23
Ellie
It’s his patient expression that gets to me. He shouldn’t have to wait. Not for another single minute. I might be unable to have sex with him, but there are plenty of things I can do to him and for him that he’s never experienced before.
The twinge below my skirt isn't from arousal, sadly, even though my heart’s beating faster and I’m hot despite the coolness of the night air. It’s really starting to feel like fall. The leaves are golden and red, the air is crisp, and football is on television what seems like Wednesday through Monday. I donned a pair of tights, a short skirt, sexy top, and then detoured to the bathroom to find that my period had started. Which meant tomorrow I'd be down. But I had tonight. And I want to give something back to Knox. An apology? A promise? A preview of what’s in store for us? I’m no
t sure, but I’m not letting Knox go tonight without blowing his mind. Literally.
I grin at him. “Come with me.”
“I don’t know if I should be afraid or turned on by that smile,” he murmurs, but follows behind me readily.
Inside the dark hallway, I start trying the doors I spotted on my way out. The third one gives way and I pull Knox in quickly before anyone stops us.
“I thought you said that it was your time.”
There’s almost no light in here. I reach into my pocket and pull my phone out. Flicking on the flashlight app, I wave it around the room. “It is that time, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t have a little fun.”
The room isn’t very large, and there are storage shelves all around which look rickety and uncomfortable. We’ll have to use the door. I set my phone to the side and push Knox up against the door.
“If you wanted to make out, I think we could have done that on the rocks outside. I’m not real shy,” Knox says.
I ignore him and slide down to my knees. Bracing my hands on his thigh, I look up. “I hear this is your first time. Tell me if you don't like something.”
He chokes on a laugh when I throw his own words back at him. He’s already thick and hard under his jeans. I rub a palm up the length of his shaft. He shudders and leans against the door.
“In all your spank bank material, did you imagine having sex at a club?” I ask, still rubbing and still staring at him. I wish I could see him better.
He nods slowly, a wary look in his eye. “I might have.”
“And what were you doing?” I undo his belt buckle. He sucks in a deep breath and then pushes his torso away from the door so he can pull off his blue Warriors T-shirt. He does it with the one hand. I’ve never figured out quite how guys do that maneuver, but it’ll always look sexy to me, especially when Knox does it. I scrape my fingertips over his ridged abs, reveling in how his body shakes under my hand.
“Usually they faced away from me and I nailed them from behind.” He gathers my hair into a ponytail and holds it aloft so he can see better.
Sacked: A Novel (A Gridiron Novel Book 1) Page 16
