by McKinley May
"There is something I wish he hadn't taught you, though. That freaking grin is identical to his. You look exactly like him when you do that. It's creepy."
"What? You mean this?"
I produce the signature smile again, which earns me a pointed look and a gruff command.
"Stop."
He covers my entire face with one palm—the guy has baseball mitts for hands, my God—but when I not-so-gently sink my teeth into his skin, he has no choice but to pull back.
"Shit," he says as he inspects the tiny tooth marks with a chuckle. "She bites."
"She does." I nod and my Steel-smile grows even wider.
"That's fucking with my brain. Quit it, Baby Blue. Or else."
"Nope."
"Fine." His shoulders raise in a casual shrug. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"What are you going to—"
My question is cut short by my howls of laughter as he starts tickling my ribs. His fingers go into overdrive, relentless on their mission to torture me.
"Oh my gosh—Cam-Cameron!" I wheeze out his name, tears of laughter pooling in my eyes. "I surrender!"
He grabs my waist, flipping us over in one swift movement. Now he's above me, his hands propped on either side of my head, his body hovering just over mine, dominant and strong.
"You done with that face?" he questions.
"Yes." My head bobs up and down vigorously. "I swear!"
"Good. 'Cause I really don't wanna have to put a paper bag over your head."
"You'd put a bag on my head?" I push out my bottom lip in a mock-pout. "Mean."
"Nah, I wouldn't." He chuckles and smiles down at me, brushing a few baby hairs from my forehead. "You're too gorgeous for that. Way too fucking gorgeous."
Suddenly, he closes the distance between us. Soft lips meet mine with tenacity, a gasp of delight catching in my throat at the welcome surprise.
Sparks fly as our tongues connect, his sweet peppermint taste awakening me. Every nerve-ending fires, every fiber of my being springs to life...
His mouth on mine never fails to set my entire world aflame.
And his lips on my sensitive flesh, where they're headed right this second?
Equally tantalizing.
He sucks on my neck, and I breathe out an appreciative moan. His tongue flicks just under my jawline, that small area where my pulse is racing and my vein is throbbing. I grip his shoulders and squeeze my legs together because holy. Freaking. Crap.
That might be my sweet spot. My ultimate weakness.
And Cameron likes it, too.
I feel him between my thighs—hard, hot, straining beneath his jeans. Body heat radiates off of him in waves, warming me to the core.
The layers of clothing between us become too much. Too obstructive.
I need his bare skin flush against mine.
Now.
Reaching down, I grab the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head impatiently. He sits up, broad chest and taut torso fully exposed, and I drink it all in. His body is unreal: a sculpture of anatomic perfection.
My hands explore the work of art. Over his shoulders, down his pecs, across the ridges of his abdomen...When I trace the tip of each index finger down that glorious V-muscle, all the way to his low-slung denim, his head lolls back, eyes squeezing shut with pleasure.
I wrap my fingers over the edge of his boxer briefs, dipping just inside the waistband. His hips thrust forward as he emits the sexiest groan I've ever heard.
"Your turn," he growls as he eyes my shirt.
He peels off the tight turtleneck and tosses it across the room. My bra is next to go, the black lace unclipped and removed, my nipples tightening as they're exposed to the cold air.
I don't have a lot going on upstairs—the downsides of an athletic build—but Cameron gazes at my body like he can't get enough. Like he wants to worship every inch of me.
"Fuck, Sydney," he mutters, eyes half-mast. "You're so damn beautiful."
He cups my breasts in his large hands, biting down on his lip as he slowly starts to tease each nipple. The sensation of his thumbs rolling over the sensitive buds has my back arching off the bed, my body begging for more.
And he gives it to me.
He dips his head down, mouth joining his hands in their exploration. After a few minutes of pure bliss, his lips start to venture down my stomach in a trail of soft, sensual kisses.
Pleasure surges through me as he rolls down my leggings. My pale pink underwear do little to hide my aroused state. Cam curses under his breath at the sight.
Just as he starts to peel back the thin fabric, I stop him.
"Cameron," I choke out.
His fingers dig into my hips as he pauses. "Yeah?"
"I haven't, uh..." I clear my throat.
"What?"
"I'm not that experienced," I admit.
Blonde brows furrow for a moment, but he catches on quick.
"No one's ever gone down on you before?"
I shake my head.
"Oh shit," he mumbles with a sinful grin. "You're gonna fucking love this." His head cocks to the side. "Unless this is moving too fast. You want me to stop?"
I don't.
I really, really don't.
But I felt like I needed to tell him I'm new to this. For the past couple weeks, we've taken our time getting to know one another physically, keeping things mostly above-the-waist.
Coming to his bedroom, however, I knew there was a strong possibility we'd take things further.
And I'm ready for it.
The few times I rounded some bases as a teen, the guys were clumsy and unsure of themselves. Sloppy kisses, fumbling fingers, and a desperate need for a lesson on women's anatomy, they weren't exactly the type of hook-ups you write home about.
My eyes stray to the guy between my legs. With swollen lips and a lust-filled gaze, his confidence and sexual prowess are palpable.
The boys in high school were just that—boys.
Cameron?
He's a man.
"Answer me, Sydney," he demands. His warm breath washes over my core and I moan so loud it could wake the dead. He smirks at my reaction, then lifts a brow. "Should I slow down?"
"No," I say without hesitation.
"You sure?" His lips find the inside of my thigh. I immediately melt into an aching, squirming mess.
When he drags his thumb over my center, circling my most sensitive part, I let out a gasp and my head falls back on the pillow.
Now he's just straight up torturing me.
"Keep going," I beg. "Please keep going."
That does the trick.
In a flash, my underwear are nowhere to be seen. Cam groans in delight as he takes me in, fully naked and exposed in his bed, and begins to work his magic.
He licks me up and down, slow and calculated motions that have me soaking wet within seconds. Strong hands grip my upper thighs, pinning me to the mattress as he eats me like his last meal.
"You taste so fucking sweet," he mumbles against my core. "Damn."
When he applies pressure to my clit with his warm, wet tongue, I swear I die and go to heaven.
"That's...oh." I whimper, unable to form words. He skillfully laps, sucks, licks—honestly, I don't even know what he's doing, but it's utter perfection.
I wrap my legs around his shoulders, shamelessly grinding against his face because fuck. This feels amazing. I bury my hands in his hair, gripping the short strands as I rapidly approach my climax.
"Cameron, I—oh my God," I moan as I completely unravel beneath him. My heart pounds, my eyes squeeze shut, and I ride out the strongest orgasm I've experienced in my freaking life.
After I come down from the high, my vision no longer obstructed by stars and dots, I sit up and immediately reach for Cameron's pants.
"Oh fuck," he rasps as I tug his jeans down and free his erection.
His erection that is most definitely in proportion to his 6'6'' stature.
I take his long, hard length in my palm,
sliding up and down his shaft. My steady strokes increase in speed and he jerks his hips forward, growling in pleasure.
"Lay down," he demands, freeing himself from my grasp. "I don't wanna come in your hand. I need to be inside you."
Desire curls in my stomach as I fall back onto the mattress, letting him take over. He grips himself at the base, lining up at my entrance. I emit a sharp gasp as he thrusts inside, filling me completely.
"Damn." His eyes shut for a moment or two as he tries to hold it together. "You feel so fucking good."
Eyelids flutter open, revealing his dilated pupils, and he begins to move in and out. He starts slow, easing me into the feeling, but it doesn't take long before I'm begging for more.
"Faster," I whisper.
One side of his mouth lifts in a sexy smirk as he fulfills my wish.
He places one hand on my waist for leverage, his other hand gripping the headboard above me. He picks up the pace, his thrusts hard and fast and powerful. Each time he fills me, the sensual pressure builds, sending me closer to the edge.
"Sydney..." He groans, his hand tightening around the wooden headboard as he starts to lose control. His tattoos illuminate in the orange rays of sunset that pour into the bedroom. I reach up, tracing my fingers down his ink-covered arm.
"I'm gonna come," he mumbles, voice deep and alluring. He lets his head dip down to his chest, breaths becoming labored and strained as he fucks me harder.
Seeing Cameron on the verge of orgasm, so primal, so wild with arousal...it's hot as hell.
So hot that I'm the one that crosses the finish line first.
My walls clench around him as another tidal wave of bliss overtakes me. My sudden orgasm immediately sets him off. He emits one final masculine growl and goes still, his hard length pulsing inside me as he comes.
We climax together in perfect harmony, bodies completely in tune. Spent and more than satisfied, we collapse onto the mattress, chests heaving as we recover.
"Holy shit," I murmur once I've finally caught my breath. "Wow."
"Yeah." He nods in my peripheral. "Wow is right."
"That was..."
"God damn amazing," he finishes for me.
He reaches over, tugging me into his side against his flushed skin. His lips find my forehead, and I melt at the gentle touch.
This connection we have, this mental, emotional, and physical bond between us—it's just insane.
I never expected this.
For the next few minutes, we watch day turn to night from his bedroom window. Wrapped in Cameron's protective arms, his heartbeat a steady drum under my palm, Love me Tender by Elvis serenading us as the sun disappears beneath the horizon...
Nothing will ever feel as perfect as this moment right now.
20
"Eww, Sydney. What the heck? You look way too happy for this."
Tanya tosses her backpack to the floor and slides into the plastic chair on my left.
The conference room where we hold weekly team meetings is slowly filling up with the soccer girls, chatter and laughter echoing around the small space.
"But seriously. No one likes going over logistical stuff—especially you." Tanya squints at me. "What's with the face?"
"Face?" I raise a brow in innocence. "What face?"
"The face!" She lifts her hands, gesturing wildly around her head for emphasis. "That floating in the clouds expression you're sporting. Explain yourself, missy."
"It's nothing."
"It's something," she insists.
Damn Tanya and her perceptive eye.
It is something.
And, try as I might, I can't get rid of the evidence.
My dopey, dazed grin has been here for a full week and counting.
It's practically a permanent facial feature at this point.
"No specific reason," I offer with a shrug. "I'm just in a good mood."
I casually pick at a stray thread on my sweatpants as she crosses her arms and stares me down.
Welp...she's not buying it.
Time to quell her intrigue with a better excuse.
"It's probably the weather. I love when it rains."
"You're smiling like that because of the gloomy weather?" Mariana's flowery voice comes from the row in front of us. She's twisted around in her seat, skeptical frown on full display. "No way, Sydney!"
Tanya nods. "It's gotta be more than that."
"Oh, I know!" Mari suddenly squeals. "Is it a boy?"
Ding ding ding—we have a winner!
I am officially a victim of Cupid's arrow.
The chubby little cherub struck me straight in the heart and I'm totally smitten.
These past few weeks with Cameron have been amazing.
Let me reiterate that.
Uh. May. Zing!
I like him.
I like him so freaking much.
"It is a guy." Tanya interrupts my thoughts with her confident statement. "Holy crap. Sydney's lovestruck."
"We need the tea!" Mariana exclaims, putting her new slang to the test. "Who is it?"
Before I can tell them that I actually can't tell them, Coach Addy comes hustling through the doors.
"Alright, ladies. Settle down and have a seat." She takes her usual spot at the head of the classroom and flips on the projector. "Lots to go over this morning. Lots to discuss for the rest of the semester. Upcoming playoffs, routine drug tests, travel itinerary for this weekend's away game..."
The snooze-fest begins, all of us getting comfy for the long morning ahead.
Although these meetings contain important information, the only thing they seem to accomplish is exacerbating my restless leg syndrome.
I get antsy as hell during these things.
Because I don't want to talk about uniforms or buses or if we're playing on turf or grass...
I just want to play.
I just want to win.
After a brain-numbing amount of logistics, Coach puts on film from our last game.
This part I actually do like.
Stretching a little taller in my seat, I watch the grainy clips and analyze our performance.
My evaluation?
A big fat A+.
Everyone perks up as we relive the complete ass-whooping we handed out last match.
Our captain Nina's goal is shown first—a free kick from 30 yards out. A handful of girls let out a whistle of appreciation at the picture-perfect score. Nina grins as she pretends to brush some dirt from her shoulder.
My back-to-back goals are up next, each one met with a plethora of congratulatory words. That persistent smile on my face gets even bigger, my cheeks aching in response.
And when video of Mariana schooling the sweeper and kicking the ball in the net for her first-ever collegiate goal comes on, I let out a loud shout.
"'Atta girl, Mari!"
Reaching forward, I squeeze her shoulders as the whole room starts clapping in celebration.
Suddenly, the applause is drowned out by a boisterous sobbing sound.
There's a collective rustling as everyone turns towards the culprit. We all know who's responsible for the whimpering noise...
Sappy Anna Anderson is at it again.
"Ms. Anderson." Coach heaves an impatient sigh at the familiar sight. "Care to elaborate on the tears? What's got the waterworks going today?"
"I'm sorry, Coach Addy." Anna apologizes, dabbing her wet eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "I was just thinking about how much I love soccer. I truly do. What a beautiful game. And seeing Mariana score her first goal? It's—sniffle—It's like she's given birth to her first child!"
She fans her face with both hands, chin quivering as she tries to hold in her overpowering emotions.
"Well, okay then. Interesting comparison." With a slight shake of her head, Coach grabs the box of tissues from her desk and shot-puts it to Anna. "Moving on..."
Half an hour later, the meeting finally adjourns.
I'm heading out of the room, ponderi
ng whether or not to hit the gym before my History lecture, when Coach addresses me.
"Steel."
I turn around and she curls a finger.
"Let's chat for a moment. Have a seat."
I plop down in the rolling chair, scooting away from the trash can that's filled to the brim with used Kleenex. She opens up a team binder, the one containing individual player stats and information.
"What's up, Coach?"
"I wanted to touch base with you," she says as she flips through the laminated pages. "Let's talk about where you stand and what your future on this team might be. A mid-season assessment, if you will."
"Alright."
Gulp.
My heart hammers in my chest as she comes to a page with my soccer headshot at the top. Her pupils skim the text for a minute or two. After some hums and indecipherable facial expressions, she meets my gaze and starts talking.
"You were struggling quite a bit in pre-season. Not getting the ball in the net when necessary, not finishing your breakaways the way I would expect." She leans back in her chair, nylon material from her track suit crinkling with the movement. "You weren't the superstar player from your high school career. There was some sort of disconnect."
"I know," I mumble, disappointment laced within my words. "I wasn't my best self. Not even close."
"I agree. However..." Her tone suddenly changes. "Your play has improved immensely. Whatever hurdle was in your way, you managed to get over it."
A whoosh of relief flashes through me as she continues.
"I don't say this often, Steel, and I don't say it lightly, but it's well-deserved. I'm impressed with you. Extremely impressed."
"Wow." My eyebrows shoot up my forehead at her uncharacteristic compliment. "You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that."
It's true.
I'm like a confetti cannon about to burst over here.
"Thank you, Coach."
Her lips twitch at the corners, her brown eyes seem to sparkle a tad, and then something crazy happens.
Serious and stoic Coach Addy actually smiles at me.
A legit big-screen-worthy smile.
"Oh my God. You have teeth!" I blurt out. "And they're pretty ones, too! So white and shiny."
Said choppers go into hiding at my creepy exclamation. Her typical frown is back in place within a millisecond.
