by Harper James
It was the exact thing I’d insisted on not doing the first time we’d been at the Manhattan together— sit around waiting for Jacob’s attention. As soon as I thought this, I felt selfish and stupid. After all, I’d more or less had Jacob’s attention for the last few weeks, since football was off the table. But now, it was about to be on the table again, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was only a sample of what was to come. Of course I wanted Jacob to heal, for him to play— but as I sat in silence and replayed our relationship, I couldn’t help but realize that until he was injured, Jacob had been…well…Jacob. The Harton hero. He’d shown up in my class, called me out to the bar, slept with me, then vanished with other players the following morning. He hadn’t reappeared in my life until he was injured.
Until he had nowhere else to go.
But he didn’t know you then, I reminded myself. And you didn’t know him, not really— you just wanted him.
It was a small consolation, though, especially when Piper was inside fending off Adams’ attempts to rope me into a threesome. I would never say it aloud to Jacob, but Adams wasn’t all that different than he had been back when we first met. If he returned to that version of himself…
No. He needed to play. He needed to heal— really heal. I lifted my eyes to Jacob, watched him and the other players going through plans and shit-talking the Clemson team and laughing, already celebrating their future win with Jacob at the helm. I thought of him standing in the bathroom mirror, perfecting a stone-faced expression. He might hurt himself further at Clemson— but that meant there was no risk for me. No risk that he’d return to his old self, no chance I’d be cast aside in the same way I once was.
I put down my long empty bottle and pretended to stare at my phone until, ages later, Jacob returned to my side, looking flush with enthusiasm and perhaps the slightest bit tipsy. He kissed my forehead briskly. “What are you staring at?” he asked.
“Nothing, just an article,” I said.
Jacob laughed. “Everyone else is playing games on their phone, and you’re reading. This is why you’re perfect, Sasha Copeland.”
I smiled, and felt something in me melt. What had I been thinking, entertaining the idea of him re-injuring himself like it would be a good thing? I swallowed as we left the bar and started toward his apartment.
“I have to tell you something,” I said, leaning against him. His arm was around my shoulders and I felt tucked into him, encompassed by his body in a way that still delighted and frightened me, a little.
“Anything,” he said.
“I know your arm isn’t healed. I saw you in the bathroom mirror Thursday night, practicing keeping a straight face when you move it.”
We continued walking forward, but Jacob’s torso stiffened beside me. “It just got a little sore when we were having sex— I was putting more weight on it than I should have.”
“Jacob—“
“It’s fine, Sasha. Or it will be.”
“But what if it isn’t?”
“It is.”
“You told me yourself that you could injury it permanently, though, if you play on it too soon. Are you really going to play at Clemson? Or are you just trying to make your parents and the school happy and shut Adams up?” I asked, stopping so fast that his arm slipped right over my head, tousling my hair. Jacob stopped and turned to me, every line of his face begging me to end the conversation.
“If I don’t get back in the game soon, the NFL will forget I exist. They’re not going to bring in someone who’s still on the bench with an injury. It’d be a stupid financial risk, if nothing else. I need to play and get drafted.”
“But what if you get injured worse? Even if you’re drafted, you’ll never get to actually play in the NFL,” I protested.
Jacob’s jaw tightened. “They’ll have to pay out my contract either way. It’ll still be a better career move.”
I was stunned. “You’d never play again, though.”
Jacob shook his head, face pained, body seeming to grow larger with frustration. “Of course I know that. That’s all I can think about, Sasha. But I’m trying to salvage what I can out of a lifetime of playing this game. I’m not getting an actual education here, you know that— I’m taking Swahili as my foreign language, for fuck’s sake, and I’ve literally never been to a single class. So getting an NFL contract now is the only chance I’ve got. If I can play again, great, but if I can’t, at least I’ll have some sort of income for the next few years. If I lose that, I’ve got…I have nothing. I have literally, nothing, except a future where my parents spend every day reminding me that I should have gone into the draft my junior year, just like they told me.” He put a hand to his temple and shook his head. “Fuck, I should’ve listened. I should have just done it. I wanted to be a better player, but…”
I stood still, overwhelmed by everything he’d just said. Somehow, even at Harton, even being with Jacob, I’d still thought of football as just a game. I was so wrong. This was his life.
“I’m sorry,” I said gently.
“For what?”
I shrugged uselessly. “I don’t even know. I’m sorry I didn’t think of all that. I’m sorry I didn’t know to think of all that.”
Jacob smiled a little at me. “You’re not into football, remember?”
“I’m into you,” I countered. “And, much to my surprise, I’m actually pretty into football now too.”
“Well, and to be totally honest, I think that’s why I came to you after the injury. I wanted to be around someone not into football,” Jacob said, and then continued walking.
“And once the injury is healed?” I asked nervously.
Jacob laughed, then looked down playfully. “Obviously, I’ll still want to be around someone not into football. You know, to keep my ego in check.”
“As if one person could do that,” I answered, and Jacob laughed again, then ducked down and plucked me from the ground, swinging me over his good shoulder. I screamed and fought, but there wasn’t much point in it— his grip was a vice, and besides, he was so tall that I was about a million feet off the ground. He spanked me lightly— lighter than he would have if we hadn’t been out in public— then kissed my thigh before setting me back on my feet. The entire thing had made a swell of need sweep through me, and I bit my lip.
“Want to teach me something new?” I asked quietly.
“Always,” Jacob said. “Where?”
“Your apartment?”
Jacob grinned lecherously. “Not what I meant by “where”, Sasha,” he said. “And my apartment is closest, so that sounds perfect.”
18
The following weekend was the only free time Jacob and I had before the Clemson game, and much to my dismay, the time was being swallowed up by none other than Mimi and Walter Everett. They’d insisted that Jacob come by their mountain home to get some fresh air before his triumphant return to the Harton football field.
“I think this is a good thing, though,” Jacob said as we made our way up I-85 in his car. “I know they didn’t really warm to you at dinner, but this has to mean they’re coming around.”
“True,” I said. The reality was, Jacob didn’t know just how terrible his mother had been to me in the restaurant bathroom. I didn’t know much about relationships, but I knew that unless it was absolutely necessary, there was no need to make Jacob the referee of a “girlfriend vs. mother” fight.
“Besides, they’re not wrong about the fresh air. And it’ll be fantastic to get away from everyone at Harton asking me about my shoulder every fifteen minutes.”
I paused. “Well…not to be an “everyone at Harton”, but…how is your shoulder, actually?” I asked cautiously.
Jacob immediately went silent, staring at a passing Cracker Barrel sign like it held the secrets to the universe. “It’s fine.”
“Jacob…“
He sighed heavily. “I don’t know. I think it’s fine. It still hurts sometimes, but only when I bend it in some crazy way.
Which of course that hurts, right? That probably would have hurt before, too.”
“But have you told the sports medicine people?” I asked.
His silence revealed the answer.
I shook my head. “Can’t you wait till after the Clemson game? Give it more time to heal?”
Jacob pressed his lips together. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll think on it. Clemson is a big game. Missing it would be huge.”
“Ruining your shoulder would be huge.”
“Potentially ruining my shoulder. I really do think it’s fine, Sasha. I’ve been working it hard at practice, and haven’t had any trouble. It just tweaks every now and then.” He was silent for a long time; I was trying hard not to get angry. Football was the most important thing to him, it was his career, his dream, his future— but he was going to risk it all just to play in a single game?
“It’s a really big game,” Jacob added, like he could read my thoughts. He inhaled. “I think that if Adams is in there, they might just go ahead and keep him in the rest of the season rather than keep switching up leadership on the guys.”
“But the coaches love you. Everyone loves you. There’s no way they’d cut you out if you wanted back in,” I protested.
Jacob snorted. “They do. But college football is just as much a business as the NFL. Coaches get fired when their teams lose. You think they love me enough to risk their jobs? Anyway, this is all beside the point— my shoulder is doing great. And speaking of the Clemson game, you’re still going to be there, right?”
“Oh, sorry. I sold those tickets for another four hundred dollars,” I said. Jacob’s mouth fell open and I laughed loud enough to fill the car. “I’m kidding!”
“You joke, but you literally did that last time,” Jacob grumbled, but he was smiling all the same.
The Everett’s mountain home was close to the Tennessee border, in the part of Georgia that this time of year was red and gold and navy blue, fall leaves on rolling mountains. Jacob had clearly been plenty of times— he wound through the narrow roads with confidence, teasing me when I pinned myself to the far side of the car, certain that without my weight to counterbalance us, we would plunge off a mountain cliff.
“That’s it up there,” Jacob said after my ears had popped for the fifth time. He pointed to the top of the mountain we were currently scaling; when I ducked my head down, I could see the house— the Harton green house— clinging to it’s side.
“That’s the vacation house? Christ. What does the actual house look like?” I asked under my breath.
“You’ll find out eventually,” Jacob said, so sincerely that I felt bad for my rhetorical question. The house really was ridiculous though— as we grew closer, I saw the decks hanging off each bedroom, the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, the elaborate trim work. The final drive was so steep that I was sure some cars— like the tidy mid-sized things I would drive— wouldn’t have been able to make it up at all. Jacob had to hit the gas hard, but his car did, in fact, finally crest the hill.
“Even I thought painting it this color was ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head at the house which, now that we were up on it, I could see was trimmed in a taupe-gold. It looked like it belonged in some millionaire section at the university bookstore.
“They’re just being supportive alumni,” I teased, and Jacob rolled his eyes. Once we were out of the car, I noticed ours was the only car in the drive. “Are your parents not here yet?”
Jacob smiled coyly. “No.”
“Is there…a reason you are smiling like that at the fact that your parents aren’t here yet?” I asked, drifting closer, waiting for him to grab me by the arms, pull me in, kiss me hard.
“There’s something I haven’t told you about this trip,” Jacob said.
I froze. “What?”
He laughed. “Nothing terrible. But my parents are good old Southerners. They’re very…traditional. Way more so than me.”
“Okay…” I said.
“They’re not going to let us share a bedroom,” Jacob finally said, cringing at the words.
“Oh!” I said, caught between a laugh and alarm. Did Jacob’s parents seriously not know anything about their son’s…recreational activities? Besides, he was a college senior, who hopefully would have an NFL contract soon. Surely he was old enough to share a room with his girlfriend?
“It’s stupid, I know, but trust me— it’s easier to just go along with it,” Jacob said, shaking his head. “Which brings me to why we’re here early.”
“So we can share a room till they get here?” I asked slyly.
“Something like that,” Jacob said. “Come on.”
He took my hand and lead me not into the house, but up onto the back deck. There was a massive screened in porch that took the majority of one end; inside the porch was a fireplace, a wine cooler, and a bed suspended from the ceiling.
“They have a bed on their screened porch,” I said, shaking my head.
“Technically it’s a sleeping porch,” Jacob said, then pulled me close to him. He leaned down to kiss me, and as he did so, his hands pushed down my back, till he was cupping my ass cheeks. I suddenly regretted wearing jeans.
Jacob licked at my mouth, our tongues brushing against one another; he bit at my bottom lip gently, and I felt myself lifting onto my toes, begging him to pick me up, to let me wrap my legs around him.
“I think I need to test my limits, with this shoulder. See what it can handle,” he said lowly. “You’re going to help me with that.”
“Of course,” I said, feeling flush with arousal. Jacob nodded, then stepped back.
“Take off your top,” he said.
I glanced outside, fully expecting to suddenly see someone else watching— but no, it was trees and sunlight and cheerful birdcalls. I unbuttoned my blouse, then let it slide away.
Jacob did a circle around me, reached forward and ran his fingers firmly across one of my breasts. My nipples reacted to his touch instantly, hardening such that Jacob could see them through my bra. He looked pleased. He walked around again, till he was behind me.
“Jeans,” he said. I unbuttoned my pants and slowly shimmied them off my body, taking my time as I bent over and tugged them off my legs. The outdoor air was crisp and cool, circling my skin, reminding me how exposed we were. Anyone driving on the street below would see me standing there if they looked up at just the right moment of the curve.
Jacob stepped up behind me and slid his hand between my thighs, massaging my pussy lightly through my panties. I gasped at his touch and tried to lean forward to give him more access—
“Not yet,” Jacob said admonishingly. He reached up and unclasped my bra, then pushed it down, till it fell to the floor. He stepped away, long enough that I nearly looked over my shoulder to see what he was up to, when I heard a car engine—
“Is that your parents?” I asked, frantic. Jacob didn’t respond. I was about to duck, to grab for my clothing, when a car zipped down the road. Not his parents. Not anyone of consequence, really, but it was enough to make my heart race all the same. When I looked back to Jacob, he was smiling.
“What if someone sees me?” I asked, trying not to erupt into nervous laughter.
“Not important,” Jacob said sternly. “Not right now, it isn’t.”
I bit my lip. “But won’t they freak out—“
“Not important,” Jacob said again, more firmly. He walked back to me and turned me around again, so I was facing the mountains, the sky, the trees, the road. He toyed with the edge of my panties for a moment, his breath running across my back as he did so. Another car zipped through; this time, I didn’t flinch.
“Good girl,” Jacob murmured in my ear. “Take off your panties.”
My skin was fireworks, my breath was fast, my core throbbing. I pulled my panties from Jacob’s hand and slid them off my body, letting my ass bump into Jacob’s thighs when I bent down. When I stood up, I was naked, while Jacob was fully clothed behind me. He put his hand ba
ck between my legs, letting his fingers flick along my clit, along my entrance. He made a humming sound of satisfaction when he felt how wet I already was.
“Stay here— and close your eyes,” he ordered. I was surprised— I’d expected him to bend me over, to order me onto the swinging bed, perhaps to guide me to his knees and slide his cock into my mouth. But I did as I was told, feeling electric as I heard him moving around behind me, somewhere else in the room. I heard the click of a door opening and shutting, and then—
“Open them,” Jacob said. I turned to look at him. He was still dressed, the room was still put together— what had he been doing. Before I could ask, Jacob said, “Ready to learn something new, Sasha?”
“Yes, yes,” I said eagerly, and started toward him. Jacob turned his head to the side, stopping me, then pointed by jutting his chin toward the door. I followed his line of sight and saw that on the deck outside, he’d laid down a white quilt that, in the rapidly decreasing sunlight, shone like a beacon against the dark wood.
“Go lay on your back. Spread your legs,” Jacob said huskily. I hesitated— whatever small discretion the screened porch provided, the deck lacked entirely. We were so high up, so exposed, so—
“Sasha,” Jacob said dangerously. The edge to his voice was all it took to make me want overpower my hesitation. I left the screened porch, laid down on the blanket, and slid my legs apart.
Jacob walked up slowly, almost appraisingly, then began to remove his clothing as he gazed down at me. When his pants fell to the deck, his cock sprang to life— already hard for me. I swallowed hungrily at the sight of it, an action Jacob didn’t miss.
“You want my cock in your mouth, don’t you?” he said, reaching down to stroke it with his own hand. I nodded. Jacob walked over toward my head; I sat up, expecting him to lower himself into my mouth, but he made an admonishing noise.
“Please, Sasha. Anyone could teach you that,” Jacob said, a wild sparkle in his eyes. Then he leaned down and, before I even realized what he meant to do, had scooped his arms under my lower back. He pulled me up against him, upside down— my thighs fell to his shoulders, my pussy directly in front of his mouth and Jacob’s massive cock directly in front of my face.
