Balls: The Complete Players Collection (Sports Romance Box Set)

by Teagan Kade

  Just get the fuck out there.

  *

  At the home, it’s like we’ve turned back time. We go about the day as if nothing happened. We have fun with the kids. We laugh. We joke. We’re in tune, but the moment we get close we pull away like two repelling magnets, unable even to make eye contact. I see my chances of being with her again slipping away, which is a fucking shame, because I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

  Close to five, a cute blonde kid by the name of Theo informs me he thinks Willow likes me, though he’s careful to warn of cooties should I approach her. I tell him cooties are the least of his worries where girls are concerned.

  Theo looks at me like a doctor enquiring as to a strange mole, eyes squinty with examination. “Do you want to kiss her?”

  I laugh. “Maybe.”

  He pokes his tongue out. “Gross! I never want to kiss a girl.”

  “I’ll ask the same question when you’re sixteen, bud, see what you say then.”

  I watch as he goes dawdling off to a pile of plastic dinosaurs.

  Willow comes around the corner. “I see you and Theo were having a nice deep-and-meaningful there.”

  “He was warning me about cooties.”

  “It’s a serious affliction didn’t you know?”

  “Oh, very serious, apparently.”

  Willow leans against the wall, smiling. “It’s half past five. You don’t get paid extra for overtime. Wait,” she corrects. “That’s right. You don’t get paid at all.”

  “Neither do you,” I retort.

  “I’m in this for the warm fuzzies, not because I flipped a car during a drunken bender with my baseball pals.”

  “It was Honda. We were doing it a favor.”

  “I don’t think the owner would agree. So…”

  “So?”

  “I’m headed to the library. I’ve got this anatomy quiz tomorrow and you seemed to know a bit about it, so what do you say? Can you help, fire me some questions?”

  If only she wanted a real anatomy lesson, I’d be happy to oblige, but I nod casually. “Let me get my things.”

  She stops. “You have been to the library before, right?”

  I smile. “Not unless it’s got a bar and Happy Hour.”

  *

  We’re in a private study room up on the second floor of the Quincy Jones Memorial Library, one of the few places on campus I’ve yet to step foot, or get my dick out.

  I look around. The room is small, barren but for a table in the middle and windows looking out to the hallway.

  Willow’s got a strange smile on her face I’ve never seen before as she sits opposite me at the table. I would have thought the last hour of anatomy quizzing would have dented her mood, but she seems oddly elated for some reason.

  “You okay?” I ask, placing her notes down.

  “The truth?”

  “Sure,” I nod.

  She sits back. “I’ve been struggling. I got this fancy scholarship, but pre-med’s been harder than I expected.”

  “You’re worried you’re going to lose your scholarship?”

  She smiles again. “I was, but with your help? I’m actually starting to feel confident.”

  “Glad to be of service.”

  “I’m ready for something else,” she continues, eyes wide.

  “Which is?” I press.

  “To live a little, bring some of that old wild Willow back into service.”

  “So we’re heading to the Quagmire then, I take it? I should warn you I’m not a big fan of body shots, though I’ll happily make an exception in your case.”

  I snap to attention. Under the table there’s a stocking-clad foot pressing against my crotch.

  I go to look down.

  “Eyes front,” Willow commands, pen in the corner of her mouth.

  “What are you doing?”

  She removes her glasses while rubbing my cock with her foot. “Continue.”

  “Continue what?”

  “Quizzing me.”

  Holy shit. I breathe out and pick up her notes, firing off a question.

  She replies as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening, even as her toes press and curl around my shaft, which grows stiffer by the second.

  “Give me a hard question,” she teases.

  I play along, throwing out a random question on preliminary biology, her weakest subject.

  “Hmm, let me think about that.” She taps the pen against the side of her cheek, looking to the ceiling and concentrating the ball of her foot on the head of my cock. Much more of this and these jeans are about to get seriously messed up.

  I can tell by the way she’s smiling she’s enjoying this, turning the tables on me. Who am I to stop her? Whoever this deviant Willow is, I welcome her with open arms.

  Her foot moves away. She leans over the table, her pastel breasts compressed together between her arms. “Enough work. It’s time for play.”

  “What do you have in mind?” I query.

  She flicks her eyes sideways. “I want you to stand against the wall between the window and door there.”

  I look to a space of about four feet. “Okay, and?”

  Her eyes are locked onto me. “I’m going to suck your cock.”

  The way her lips form the word ‘cock’ forces a convulsion through my body. “You what?”

  She flicks her eyes to the spot again. “Just do it.”

  I stand and make my way over, leaning up against the wall. The position is barely shielded from view of the hallway. There’s also the fact these ‘private’ rooms are public access. Anyone idiot could walk in.

  Willow stands and places her pen down, her hips shifting from side to side as she walks over. “Are you ready, big boy?” She’s nailing this.

  “Big boy?” I laugh. “And how would you know?”

  She thrusts her hand forward and cups my crotch. “I don’t know. Feels pretty girthy to me.”

  She kneels and unzips my jeans, fishing inside for my cock.

  I almost drop fucking dead when she wraps her fingers around the thick shaft of it, pulling it free.

  I can’t believe this is happening. I’m tempted to pinch my arm, spare myself the agony of waking up from this.

  There I am, in the middle of the college library, with my cock out and Willow’s hand around it in wait.

  “It’s been a while,” she says, suddenly nervous.

  “Trust me, you’re doing fine,” I enthuse.

  I’ve had some interesting public encounters on campus, but this is insane—my kind of insane.

  I watch as she opens her mouth and darts her tongue out, swiping it across the head of my cock. She gives me one final look before timidly taking the tip into her mouth, sucking gently at first—testing it out, so to speak.

  Whatever she’s doing, it’s fucking amazing.

  I hold her head gently, softly thrusting into her mouth. She takes me deeper, takes me as deep as she can before her gag reflex kicks in.

  I was kind of expecting an awkward blowjob at best, the sort you’d get behind the garden shed at school, not… this.

  She’s an expert, keeping things nice and wet, the constant, sucking motion of her mouth already tipping me towards the edge. It’s building in my balls—a fucking explosion.

  I can’t stop it. I sigh, a deep rumble coming from my chest. My fingers knot themselves into her hair.

  I can hear people passing by outside, feet away from us. It only makes it hotter.

  My cock starts to pulse between her lips, and that familiar tug of release pulls at my crotch.

  But it’s too late. “I’m going to…” I announce. I turn rigid, expecting her to pull away, but when I my eyes open the head of my cock is cradled on her tongue, her eyes shining up at me, begging me for my cum.

  The first jet pulses against the back of her throat. She swallows it down and waits, taking it all, holding me as I continue to jerk and spasm. She remains completely committed, right down to the final,
warm spurt.

  A hand on the doorknob outside.

  With us hidden from view, the room must look empty.

  “Occupied,” I call, my voice strained as Willow stands bolt upright, straightening her dress and dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a finger.

  “Ah, sorry,” comes the confused reply.

  I stuff myself back into my pants and pull Willow into a kiss. I taste my own salty arousal on her tongue. “Thank you.”

  I run my hand between her legs, and find the crotch of her panties soaked through.

  She gasps, but pulls my hand away. “My pleasure.”

  “You don’t want me to…?”

  “Later,” she smiles. “To be honest, I didn’t think I could go through with it, that my little mouth and your big…”

  “Say it.”

  “Cock,” she whispers. “I didn’t think they were going to get along.”

  “It seems to me like it worked out just fine. When do I get to return the favor then? Because there’s nothing I want more than to taste you right now.”

  She pats me on the chest. “Patience, my dear boy. Patience.”

  I’m semi-delirious as we collect our things and head downstairs, still wondering when I’m going to snap out of this.

  The second we’re outside the library, I hear “Asher!” across the quad.

  Fuck me.

  It’s fucking Taylor. I thought blocking her number would have been enough.

  Apparently not.

  She bounces over and once again acts like Willow’s not there, addressing me. “What the hell’s going on, babe? Why are you at the library with her?”

  “I have a name,” Willow begins, but Taylor puts ‘the hand’ up, continuing to speak to me alone. “You’re what? Helping her study or something?”

  “Exactly,” I reply.

  “Fucking liar,” Taylor spits.

  Man, the shit storm that would go down if she knew what had just taken place upstairs in Study Room B.

  She’s got her arms crossed now. “I’ve been trying to reach you for fucking forever. Do you know how embarrassing it was to show up to Reacher’s black light party alone?”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  Now she acknowledges Willow. “Are you fucking this… thing?”

  Willow, to her credit, remains composed.

  “That’s none of your business,” I reply.

  “We’re a couple. It is my business.”

  I’m halfway to making a scene. “Jesus, Taylor. We. Are. Not. A. Thing. Besides, last time I checked you were the one looking to hook up. Not me.”

  A scary calm comes over her. “Fine. Fuck her. Fuck her fucking brains out, but if you want real pussy instead of this fire crotch Frankenstein, you know where to find me.”

  “She’s a real charmer,” remarks Willow, watching her storm away.

  But I can’t even bring myself to smile. “You have no idea.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  WILLOW

  My momentary transformation in the library changes everything. I feel restored, energized, and sexy. Asher and I are together whenever possible. Coach Harris even showed up to the McMahon Center the other day when Asher failed show for practice. That’s how dedicated Asher has become to the home, to the kids.

  To me.

  He’s so involved in the day-to-day running of the place now I don’t know what the other ladies would do without him. The kids love him too. They pester me about him when he’s not there. They ask us when we’re going to get married and have babies. I neglect to tell them to have a baby you’d first need to have sex, and we still haven’t done that.

  Yes, true to his word, Asher allows us to take it slow. I know he’s dying to sleep with me, but I’m holding off just a little longer. Maybe I’m scared? I don’t know, but what I do know is that what we’ve got right now is a wonderful thing. I don’t want the horizontal hula to mess anything up.

  Do I think about Asher and me, doing it? Hell yes. Last night I was so horny that if it wasn’t for Amy snoring the walls down I would have quite happily slipped my hand down my pants and gotten myself off thinking about Asher’s hard cock, his chiseled body over mine, his lips whispering the many ways he’s going to make me come.

  But I’m studying hard with end of semester exams beckoning. At times it’s hard to fit Asher into my head along with chemistry elements, and skeletal structures, and biology. Don’t even get me started on biology. Organismal diversity is not as interesting as it sounds.

  I watch Asher play and train in my downtime. The Hellcats are looking good for another championship if they keep up their winning streak. As captain, Asher’s expected to lead by example, which he does. His batting average is 0.437—almost unheard of in college ball. When recruiting time comes around, he’s going to be picked up fast, no doubt about it.

  And where will that leave you?

  I can’t dwell on that right now. The picket fence and pretty white dress will have to wait.

  “Last one,” says Asher, watching me from the other side of the study table. “What is the product of water and pentyl ethanoate under acidic conditions?”

  Only Asher could make organic chemistry sound sexy.

  His foot stops moving against my crotch.

  I open my eyes. “Ethanoic acid and pentanol.”

  He smiles and resumes his footwork under the table. “Correct.”

  He removes it when the door swings wide, a bemused, blonde head poking in. “Oh, sorry,” says the girl. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

  Asher turns, smiling. “No problem.”

  She lights up when she spots him, glancing at me as if to say ‘what’s he doing in here with you?’ “I’m such a fan, by the way. See you at the Quagmire?”

  “Sure,” he smiles back.

  I’m not even mad. He’s made it quite clear there’s only one girl who matters to him on campus, and it sure ain’t Taylor Vaughn.

  The door closes.

  My panties are going to need a good wringing out later. I’m surprised I’ve been able to recall any answers at all.

  Asher stands and collects his things.

  “Where are you going?” I protest. “I was about to—”

  “Head to class? You’ve got General Chemistry in five minutes and it takes six to walk across campus.”

  I pout. “What about the chemistry we had going on here?”

  There’s a knock on the door. It better not be that bimbo again.

  “Yeah,” calls Asher.

  The door swings open again.

  It’s Leon. I haven’t seen him since that day at the Grind House. I tighten.

  He walks in. “Well, well. What do we have here? A little study sesh, yeah?”

  “Something like that,” muses Asher, about to head out. “What brings you here? I thought you were allergic to the library?”

  Leon leans against the wall and smiles back. “A tight little brunette, the history section, three months ago.”

  Asher points at him. “You are a fucking animal.”

  “Says the Penbrook equivalent of Stiffler. Where have you been, anyways? It’s not the same at the Quagmire without you. That bartender chick was asking about you again, by the way. I told her you were doing some volunteer bullshit and she practically flooded the floor she was so hot for it.”

  “Interesting,” replies Asher. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’m late for class.”

  “Class?” Leon scoffs. “Since when do you give a fuck about class?”

  “Bye,” replies Asher, turning to blow me a kiss.

  No. No. No. Don’t leave me alone with Leon. But before I can protest Asher’s already out the door.

  Leon closes it gently. “Just the two of us, like old times.”

  I’m about to stand when Leon comes behind me, his hands falling onto my shoulders.

  “It’s been a long time, Amanda. Wouldn’t you say?” His fingers run across my collarbone, working their way up my hairline. He leans down and sn
iffs. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Amanda?” he laughs. “Yes. I suppose it wouldn’t be wise dredging up the past, would it? I mean, given how hard you’ve worked to start over. What do you think Asher would say if he knew we were a thing back in school, if he knew—”

  I push my chair back and stand, swatting his hand away and trying to collect my books as quickly as humanly possible.

  Leon’s still smirking. “There’s the old Willow. I’ve missed her.”

  I point my finger at him. “Don’t you dare say a word about us to Asher.”

  He raises his hands. “If you say so.”

  I can’t stand the smug look on his face. He knows he’s got me in a corner here, but I refuse to be boxed in. “You weren’t exactly a boy scout back then either, remember? I bet old habits die hard.”

  He nods. “Oh, I remember.” He looks down at my chest. “I remember everything.”

  The door bursts open and Asher rushes back in. “Forgot my cell.”

  He’s swiping it off the table when he sees us standing there. “Everything okay?”

  Leon bobs his head slowly, still watching me. “Couldn’t be better. I was just talking to Willow here about the good ol’ days.”

  I give him my best ‘don’t do it’ stare.

  He exhales in a sharp punctuation of air. “Gotta go. I’ll see you soon, Willow.”

  He punches Asher lightly on the shoulder on his way out. “Fuckface.”

  The door closes and we’re thankfully alone again.

  “What was that all about?” asks Asher.

  “Nothing,” I smile. “We should go.”

  Asher pulls the door wide. “After you.”

  *

  As if I wasn’t stressed out enough, now I’ve got Leon, the scheming bastard, to contend with. I barely catch a word of what the professor has to say in class. He calls me down when class finishes. He’s holding a Post-It in his hand. “It says here I’m to have you are to report to the Dean’s office.”

  I gulp audibly. “The Dean?”

  He smiles. “Yes. I’m sure it’s nothing sinister.”

  I clutch my books. “Right.”

  All kinds of crazy scenarios run through my head as I make my way to the administration building.

  The Dean’s secretary waves me in.