The Change Up

by Quinn, Meghan

  I spit my toothpaste, rinse my mouth, and dry it.

  “Why do you say that?” I ask, leaning my hip against the counter as well.

  His eyes zip down my body and then back up. “Tank top and underwear, that’s it?”

  “Yeah?” I shrug. “You wear less.”

  “Just cute that you dropped the shorts now that we’re you know . . .”

  His words trail off and I cross my arms over my chest, staring him down. “Now that we’re what, Maddox?”

  “Now that we’re, you know”—he closes the space between us, grips my hips, and smiles down at me—“dating.”

  I chuckle at the awkwardness in his voice. “Say that with a little more pain, it will make me feel better.”

  He laughs too and blows out a heavy breath. “Sorry, this is just different for me. I haven’t dated anyone since Jamie.”

  His comment sparks a thought in my head, something that’s been ticking in the back of my mind, something the girls said to me.

  Taking his hand in mine, I lead him to the bed where I sit him down and then climb on top of his lap.

  “If you want me to behave, this is not the way to do it,” he says, his hands falling to my backside, pulling me in even closer. The fabric between us is so thin that I can already feel him between my legs and good God, he’s right. This is not the ideal position to be sitting in when we’re both just wearing underwear.

  Ignoring the growing desire from feeling him semi-hard beneath me, I trace the tattoos on his chest. “I have something to ask you and I don’t want you to get mad.”

  “You know that’s a sure-fire way to get me mad, right? When you tell me not to get mad? Because whatever you’re about to say is most likely going to make me mad.”

  “I know.” I lean forward and press a kiss to his neck, then his jaw, followed by his lips. He groans when I pull away. “But I need to ask you this because as you so painfully said in the bathroom, we’re dating. Therefore, we need to get everything out in the open, right?”

  “Or we can keep everything closed off, talk about nothing, and just fuck.”

  “When would that ever happen?”

  He shrugs, looking like the teenager I knew way back when. “Thought I’d give it a shot.”

  “It was a cute attempt, but that would never happen. I’m all about being open and honest with each other, which brings me to my question.”

  “That I’m not supposed to get mad at.”

  “Exactly.” I press a quick kiss to his lips, which pulls a smile from him. “So I was talking with Dottie and Natalie—”

  “I can already tell I’m not going to like what you have to say if it has to do with gossip.”

  “Hey, you told them to come hang out with me.”

  “I know, but that was before I thought of all the things they’d tell you.”

  My brows raise in question. “Are you hiding things from me, Maddox?”

  “No. But you know how that shit goes. They put an idea in your head and then it’s all you can think about.”

  “Well, yes, that might have happened, but I just want to clear things up, and then I’ll never ask about it again.”

  “Okay,” he says with resignation. “Hit me.”

  “Cleat chasers.” He rolls his eyes. “Were they at your hotels this past away trip?”

  “They’re at the hotels every trip.”

  “Have you ever, you know, taken one back to your hotel room?”

  He tips my chin up to look him in the eyes. “Are you asking if I took a girl back to my room this past week?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I know you wouldn’t do that to me.”

  His grip on my backside grows tighter and I can feel him start to get angry from the suggestion. I wince.

  “Kinsley, that’s fucked up.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything, I just . . . I don’t know. I want to know what your routine is.”

  He runs his tongue over his teeth and then pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear, only to cup my cheek. “This past week, I was focused on getting back to my room so I could talk to you. I didn’t even acknowledge the presence of cleat chasers in the hallways. Ever since you moved to Chicago, my focus has been on you. I haven’t wanted anyone but you, and I can’t stop fucking drawing you either, which tells me one thing—you’re consuming me.” My cheeks burn with embarrassment of my question, and with excitement from his confession. “Have I hooked up with a cleat chaser before? Stupidly, yes, but that was when I was fresh in the majors and didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I’d just wanted sex. Are there guys on the team who indulge every night? Yeah, but I’m not one of them. Never have been. I had a regular routine when it came to sex, one that I’m not super proud of, but it was mindless for me, something to expel the energy built up inside me. Like you and Stan. But that all changed the minute you stepped foot in this apartment.” He drags his thumb over my lip and says, “You don’t ever have to worry about me cheating on you, Kinsley. It’s never going to happen. I know how good I’ve got it. Plus”—he takes a deep breath and looks away—“I know how it feels to be cheated on. If I’m not happy, I’ll tell you. I won’t ever go behind your back to find someone else.”

  I brush my fingers through his hair and around his ear. “I’m sorry I even brought it up,” I say, feeling guilty I let the thought pass through my mind. I should have known better, especially because of Jamie.

  “Don’t apologize. I understand this journey is going to be hard, but we need to trust each other.”

  “I trust you. I really do,” I say quickly. “I guess I was just curious, that’s all.”

  “Curiosity is okay, not believing me is not.”

  “I believe you.”

  He nods and moves his hands up my sides, dragging my shirt with him so his thumbs rest on my ribcage. “You better. Are you good, now?”

  I nod. “Very good.”

  “Does that mean I get to take your shirt off?”

  I laugh and shake my head. “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Can I cop a feel?”

  “No.”

  He rests his head against the headboard, takes a deep breath and then looks at me again. “Make out?”

  “Yes, we can make out, but I feel like I should get off your lap.”

  He holds me still. “No, stay. Move your hips when we make out. I heard that’s the new way of doing things.”

  “Oh my God.” I push at his chest, as he laughs and captures me just as I roll off him. He pins me against the mattress, hands at my side. “That is not the new way, Maddox, that’s dry-humping.”

  “Nothing wrong with dry-humping,” he says, moving his pelvis on top of mine where I can feel his length. “Clothes are on, so it’s just friction.” He leans down and presses a kiss along my neck, turning me on. “Friction never hurt anyone.”

  Shamelessly I spread my legs, letting his pelvis fall right on mine.

  “What happened to letting me have all the power?”

  His tongue runs along my jaw and then up to my ear where he nibbles on the lobe. “Tell me to stop then.”

  If only I could.

  It’s not that easy though. I want him more than air itself. I want to feel him all over my body. I want his hands on my breasts, on my stomach, on my pussy. I want to know what it feels like to have him drag his tongue along my skin, his hot, wet tongue firing up every nerve. I want to see him naked, stretched out on this bed, shameless with his hands behind his head, his body submitting to me. I want to know if his cock is pierced—if it’s what I think it is—if he can hit my G-spot and make me come so hard, I’ll never be the same.

  But I also don’t want to lose what we’re trying to accomplish . . . dating.

  “You’re thinking too much,” he whispers as his mouth floats over mine.

  A war builds in my head. I want to feel him, but I also want to stay reserved, but with every pass of his mouth over mine, my resolve falters until I hear myself say, “Kissing only. No
touching. Dry-humping is allowed.”

  He chuckles against my cheek. “You sure know how to make things interesting.”

  “Can’t handle it, Maddox?”

  “Oh, I can fucking handle it.” He lifts off me and asks, “What about clothes?”

  “They stay on.”

  He nods. “All right, challenge accepted.” With his knee, he spreads my legs even farther and says, “Don’t move your legs, keep them spread.”

  His voice changes—it becomes darker. More throaty. More . . . commanding. Sexy.

  He laces our fingers together and he holds my hands on either side of my head as he lowers his mouth down to mine while his knees fall between my spread legs, not touching me, just hovering.

  I want to glance down, to see his erection, but it’s next to impossible when his tongue thrusts inside my mouth and starts claiming me. He’s greedy, hungry, not holding back as he swipes, dips, and caresses my mouth with his tongue. I try to keep up, but it’s hard when I’m fighting with every sensation of his touch that’s doing a damn fine job overtaking my thoughts. I get lost in his feel, in the command and strength of his body. How can he keep so still, but shoot off fireworks through my veins with only the use of his mouth?

  Nothing else.

  He holds true to his word.

  No touching, kissing only, and clothes on, and yet, my pussy is throbbing with need, my legs shake with desire, as pleasure starts to pool in my center, building and building to the point that I can feel the thrum of my clit, begging for more, twitching my legs, sending my entire system into overdrive.

  “God, I need your cock on me,” I say in between kisses.

  “Turned on?” he asks.

  “So much.” Being spread like this, my underwear becoming wet with each pass of his mouth over mine, the cool air shocking me, combined with his hot mouth. It almost feels like too much, too many sensations pulling and tugging through me, wanting me to go left, right, feel the beat of my pulse, the pound of my heart.

  “Ask for it, Kin. Ask for my cock.”

  Yes. He can talk dirty in my ear any freaking day.

  I nip at his bottom lip and tug on it. “Give me your cock, Maddox.”

  He pauses, his eyes heady as he lets my words sink in, words I never thought I’d utter, but words that slipped off my tongue easily. Words I’m relieved I could finally say.

  Keeping his eyes on mine, our lips parted for a few moments, he lowers his pelvis to mine and dips his cock just lightly against my parted center.

  A hiss escapes my lips from the featherlike pressure on my clit. “You’re so hard,” I say, as he presses down again, this time adding a slight wave to the movement so his cock rolls up against my clit. “Jesus, Maddox.”

  “Want more?”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  “Mmm . . . too bad you’ll have to wait a little bit longer.” He lifts his hips and begins to work my mouth once again. This time, he’s light with his kisses. Not hungry, not demanding, just exploratory.

  It’s torture, feeling him briefly only to be teased with his mouth again. And because he has my hands pinned down, I can’t move to touch him, feel him, encourage him to give me more. All I have is my mouth and even at that, when I try to apply more pressure, he pulls away.

  “Give in, Kinsley. I’m in charge, so stop trying to get more.”

  “You’re torturing me.”

  “This is what you wanted.”

  “No—” His hips fall against mine again. “More, Maddox.”

  He dips again and rolls.

  Dips and rolls. Barely touching me, just enough to cause my clit to erupt with need.

  Uncomfortable pressure starts to build, pressure that needs immediate relief, but from the way he stays away from me, I’m not going to feel that relief anytime soon.

  “Fuck, Maddox,” I say as his lips fall to my neck, along my collarbone. He pauses, and I watch as his eyes fall to my breasts, my nipples so hard that they’re mere nubs poking against my shirt.

  With a look of passion in his eyes, he lowers his chest to mine where he gently rubs his bare chest against my hard nipples, just the tips grazing his skin. The sensation is too much, it shoots my hips up toward his as a feral cry falls past my lips.

  “Are your tits sensitive, Kinsley?”

  “So sensitive.”

  “Could I make you come by just rubbing them?”

  “Something to try on another day. Right now, I want your cock.”

  “You’re the boss,” he whispers before taking my mouth and lowering his hips all the way down to mine.

  He doesn’t take his time, he doesn’t caress me, or pretend to hold back.

  No, he claims my mouth like there are twenty men coming after it, and his hips rock over mine with exquisite rhythm.

  He’s large, long, unlike any cock I’ve felt before. And the way he moves his hips, rocking over my clit, rubbing and smoothing . . . God, it’s igniting a flame in me, setting it off like a wildfire in my veins, digging deep to my bones and every muscle in my body.

  “Fuck me,” I say when his mouth falls to my ear. “I’m throbbing, Maddox. I’m throbbing so hard, I can feel it all the way to my toes.”

  “Shit,” he mutters as his pace picks up. “Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.”

  “So hot, Maddox. Please don’t . . . ahhh,” I scream as he swivels his hips.

  The need to touch him, to feel him, to move my hands is overwhelming and frustrating all at the same time, and combined with the orgasm that’s building and building between my legs, has tears filling my eyes.

  Pulling up, he stares down at our connection, so I do the same. And I’m granted with the sight of his defined abs rolling over and over, digging his hips into mine. The V in his pelvis, the bulge rubbing against me, the way his pecs fire up and the sweat that caresses his skin, it’s all too much. The first spark of my orgasm is set off.

  “Fuck, Maddox. I’m going to come.”

  “Let me hear it then.”

  He moves faster. His hips flying so fast that my core turns numb, my spine coils where the pressure builds. My vision blurs, blacks. My head thrashes to the side and on one last thrust, my orgasm spikes through my body, shooting my spine straight and my chest high as my legs tighten around Maddox’s hips.

  “Yes,” I wail. “God, yes, Maddox.”

  He grunts something unintelligible and then buries his head in my shoulder as he bites down and comes. His hips flying fast and then stilling, the guttural sound that comes out of his mouth, so damn sexy.

  “Fuuuck,” he drawls out on a heavy breath and then kisses the side of my neck. He releases my hands, and I’m finally able to touch him. His back is sweaty, his skin like an inferno, and when he lifts up to look at me, I see the pleasure and strain he went through. For me.

  I cup his cheek and say, “I feel like that’s something we should have done back in high school.”

  He chuckles and nods. “Yeah, probably. I guess just making up for lost time, huh?”

  “Did you ever want to do that with me in high school?”

  He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t allow myself to think about you like that.”

  “Me either.”

  He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes intent on my mouth. “But now, I’m taking full advantage of being yours.”

  “I hope so.” I smile into his kiss and let him do just that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  MADDOX

  I feel like a doof.

  I have the biggest smile on my face, and I can’t seem to wipe it off no matter how hard I try.

  I guess that’s what happens when you finally give in to feelings you’ve been carrying around for years. You become a giddy schoolboy.

  “Good morning,” Kinsley says, walking into the living room, wearing her typical work pants and animal-loving shirt. Her hair is half pinned back, and she looks fresh. I also don’t miss the smile that’s spread across her face as well.

  Mornings are one
of my favorite times with her, when I get to see her in the light from the sunrise, still catch a little bit of sleep in her eyes and share a cup of coffee with her before we go our separate ways for the day. Even though it’s a tragic hour for her to be awake, and she can be grumpy at times, I still love it.

  “Good morning,” I say, holding out a cup of coffee to her that she takes with ease and leans against the counter across from me.

  Together, we sip our coffee, staring at each other, smiles stretching out for miles.

  Breaking the silence, I say, “You look like you got dry-humped last night.”

  She snorts and pulls her mug away before wiping her nose. “Oh my God, why, Maddox?”

  I chuckle. “Seemed like a fun thing to say. And it’s true. You look happier.”

  “So do you, but I’m happy because you’re home, not because you drove your dick on top of me like a horny teenager.”

  “I haven’t done that in God knows how long, and I’m kind of addicted to it now.”

  “I noticed, when you came at me again last night, but had me ride you instead.”

  “Admit it, that was hot.”

  Her smiles grows even larger from over the rim of her mug. “It was.”

  “Maybe we stick to dry-humping, as we seem to have a good grasp on that.”

  “Is that what you really want? To never fuck me, feel my pussy clench around your cock, tease and pluck my nipples until I come from foreplay?”

  I stand there, my briefs growing tight, my upper lip starting to sweat from the thought of having her like that.

  Her eyes drop to my briefs and then back to my eyes. “I’m guessing you do.”

  Unashamed, I set my cup down, place both hands on the counter behind me and allow her to get an unobstructed view. “Guess what happens when you turn me on?”

  “I have to take care of it for you?” she asks with a roll to her eyes.

  “That, or you have to watch me take care of it.” I reach down into my briefs and grip my cock, hard, allowing myself to grow as I stare at her, as my eyes wander up and down her body, mainly pausing at her breasts.

  I get harder, the more I take her in, the more I envision her mouth falling to my cock and taking me inside her wet heat.