“A crook?”
“My point exactly but what other choice do I have?”
“I have a trust fund. I could lend you the money.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Thanks, but I can’t take your money. It’s for your doctorate, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but you need it more.” I take his hands realizing in doing so, I have crossed the threshold of professional boundaries.
“I care about you.” My voice cracks and I stand. “More than I should.”
His dark eyes widen. “Fuck, Star. Why you been holding out, pretending like we don’t matter?”
“I can’t… we can’t.” I stare out the room’s only window in the door. No doubt it was put there to prevent what I’m thinking of doing.
He scrapes back his chair, jumps up, and presses his chest into my back. “Can’t what?”
With his hands resting on either side of my head, I turn, and stare into his molten gaze of melted chocolate with flecks of amber.
“You’re moving on to the NFL after the championships.”
“With any luck at all, yeah.”
“I still got four more years of school, probably in New England.”
“How about we worry about today, tonight, this minute?”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“Let me help.”
His lips crash down on mine and at first I resist. There’s no way I’ll survive making love with him again.
“Stop thinking.” He wraps his hands into my hair and angles his head to take the kiss deeper.
I need to be the logical one, the one who thinks things through. I thought, after last summer, I could be different but I can’t. I’m not pinky. I’m the same tight-ass puritan girl with my next few years carved in stone.
“I-I’m sorry. I just can’t.” I push at his chest with a cry, grab my purse, then dash out the door.
Chapter 13
Jackson.
Shit. I did not mean for Star to get pissed and leave. I was sure, once I opened up to her, I could get us back to where we were before she decided I had a gambling problem.
I think I learned more about her in our little session than the other way around. I could follow her back to her apartment and ask her what she’s so damn afraid of, but I won’t.
Hell, I can understand why she’s skittish. I may have fixed my debt but I’m still breaking all kinds of rules. Hell, despite Chris’ assurances this happens all the time, it doesn’t feel right. I wish I could bounce it off my Dad, but to do so, I’d have to give him the whole damn story.
He and Mom will be so disappointed in me, especially when I tell them I have to drop out early, and not get my degree.
Shaking my head, I exit the library and wander back to my quarters. I thought by now I’d be entering her sweet flesh with her shouting out my name. After, maybe we’d decide to have more. Obviously, I’m not living up to her uppity standards.
I’m probably too stupid for her.
She’s going for her doctorate and I can’t even pass English. How’s a guy supposed to practice eight hours a day, go to classes for four, and do homework? It’s crazy.
Back at the dorm, I do whatever I can to keep my head above water. I read until midnight so I’m somewhat prepared for a test in the morning. The textbook keeps me from thinking about a wild, pink-haired girl who drives me crazy.
In the morning, I turn my phone back on.
Star: Sorry
Star: Call me?
Star: J, are you mad?
Star: Fine
Star: I said I was sorry
Star: Forget it. Erase these
Star: You awake?
I smile to myself as I jog to practice and text her back,
Me: Not mad. Turned off phone 2 study. C U 2nite?
Star: K. Union?
I send a thumbs-up and dash to practice. We got a couple away games that are going to kick our butt. Whatever was off with Ryan, he’s fixed. Every pass is a rocket into my open arms.
“Come to papa.” Laughing I catch his last throw.
We’re all in a good mood when we win by a mile.
“Great game.” As we enter the locker room, CJ slaps me on the back, then Ryan.
I sit on a bench next to my pal feeling a little guilty how we haven’t talked since the scene in the parking lot. “How’re things with Kira?”
He shrugs. “Better. How about you? Fix up the whole problem we talked about?”
“Yeah. Everything’s cool. I got a new trainer, too.” I whisper, “He’s really my agent. Paid off my debts.”
His brows lift. “I see… You sure he’s a good idea?”
“Didn’t see any other way out.” I kick of my cleats and throw them in my locker.
Ryan grabs his towel and a bar of soap. “Okay, but you know I got your back. You do what you have to do.”
“Thanks, bro.” I heave a sigh of relief. Expecting a whole lot of judgmental shit, his quiet understanding means a lot.
Under the hot spray, he asks, “Where you headed after this?”
“Going to grab a bite at the Union.”
“Don’t be late. Coach will kick your ass.”
“Not me. I’m all done breaking rules. This Cinderella will be home long before the clock strikes midnight.”
“Don’t lose any glass sneakers.” He high fives me for the lame joke.
When we finish, I jog to the Union, pause at the door, and stare in. Star’s chewing on the back of a highlighter pen with a thick text book on the table in front of her.
As if she’s got radar, her eyes lift, and she waves with a bit of hesitation. Then, she bites her lower lip as I slide next to her, thighs touching.
“Hey.” Her brows lift and the black centers of those enormous baby-blues widen.
“Don’t.” I put an index finger to where her upper tooth holds her pretty lower lip captive.
“Habit.” She lets go and opens her mouth into a smile
“Poor thing.” My mouth meets hers but she draws back almost immediately.
“Listen, I want to… You know… apologize for being so unprofessional. I don’t think I should be your therapist anymore.”
“I agree.” I tuck a lock of pink behind her ear and linger, needing more physical contact and yet not daring to ask for more.
“I could call Ms. Griswold and set you up with an appointment.”
I picture the blue-haired social worker, old enough to be my great-grandmother, and chuckle. “No, that’s okay. I really think your sessions helped. If I have any more urges to gamble. I’ll let you know.”
“Promise?”
“Scout’s honor.” I raise my two fingers.
When she giggles, I figure we’re good. “Can I ask why you ran out?”
“I thought I could, but I can’t. “Her cheeks turn an adorable bright red and I cup them in my palms.
“I really don’t need a shrink.” What I need, is you calling out my name as I make you cum.
“I wasn’t talking about me being your shrink, I was talking about us. I can’t do us.”
“I’m still not getting you, Star. There’s nothing to do, just let it be. You know… a guy, a woman, some sweet love in the fieldhouse.”
“You see? That’s the problem.” She scoots out from under the table, stuffs her highlighter in her purse, and closes her text.
“Stop.” Before she bolts for the door, I grab her hand.
Her eyes tear. “I’m not like you, I’m not even like me… or what I’m pretending to be.”
“Sugar, you’re not making any sense this evening. Sit down and talk to me.”
“Why? You’ve got enough problems. You don’t need mine.”
I should be insulted but instead, all I want to do is wrap her in my arms and fix everything. “How about, for a moment, we pretend we’re friends.”
“Okay.” Wet lashes lift and when her eyes capture mine my fucking heart does this number on me that I never felt before.
She sniffs and searches her purse for a tissue. “I tried to change, I really did. But I’m not a free-spirited happy-go-lucky hippie.”
“Huh?” I reach into my pocket and hand her my bandanna.
“Oh, I’m not explaining this very well. Last summer I joined a commune with these other kids. We were trying to ignite the passion, the joy, and the sensuality of the sixties. I thought I’d changed but now, back here in FSCU, I’m back to the same old boring me.” Tears flow down her cheeks freely.
“Hell, Star, I never thought you were boring.” I catch one of her tears with an index finger and she lifts her eyes to mine.
“What about freshman year?”
I rub my beard and my teeth grind down in the back. “I was an ass. Women were dropping their panties and I thought I needed to taste every last one of them.”
“And now?”
“I haven’t had a girlfriend since Janet left me at the end of last semester.”
“Because of the ex-coach?”
“I should’ve believed her.” Yet another one of my many fuckups.
“Oh my God. She told you he groped her and you didn’t do anything?”
“He was my coach and my friend. I thought she was trying to get my attention.”
“You still care about her?” Star’s clear blue eyes hone in on me.
“I won’t lie, Star. We were close and I thought we were in love.”
Tears well and she nods. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.” I take both her hands. “I want us to be close, more than friends. I don’t want a therapist, I want you.”
“I can’t.” She shakes her head and eyes lower.
“Why not? You can check my phone. I’ve stopped gambling. I paid off the loan sharks. Everything is good.”
She sighs deeply. “I like you… a lot. Too much, I think.”
I lean over and kiss her until her mouth yields and she opens. Her permission given, my tongue plays at her teeth and she gives a little moan.
With hands at my waist, her short nails dig in, and she squirms a little closer.
My blood pumps south, my heart pounds, and my pants tighten around my swelling. “I like you, too, Star. Be with me?”
I haven’t got a whole lot of fancy words to woo her with so don’t try.
Under the booth, I place her hand on top of my need. “That’s what you do to me.”
She takes my other hand and places it on her racing heart. “And that’s what you do to me.”
“Through the boiler room?” I hold my breath, watching her face for any sign of conflict or doubt. I’m not fucking this up.
Both of her hands cup my beard, her fingertips slipping to an erotic zone right behind my ears. “Yeah.”
~~
Jackson slides out of the booth, grabs my textbook, and takes my hand with his free one. As we walk across the linoleum, he slides an arm around my waist and pulls me closer.
This has to be our last time. I can’t allow myself to go any further but even a condemned man gets a last meal. This will be mine. I did what I could do to help, he’s no longer an addict. I can at least console myself with that knowledge.
I’ve fallen in love with a wide receiver. How the hell did I let it happen?
We duck around the pipes and into the small room with a cot. Once there, I pull his hair and bring his lips to mine. If this is my last hurrah, I want to regret nothing.
For the rest of my life, I will remember the night I threw all caution to the wind and let my heart have its way. Tonight, my rational brain is on hold.
His mouth crashes down, he moans, and with a hand to my lower back, clamps me to his hard length. Desire courses through me and hot liquid pools where I grind against him.
“Star, darlin’.” His brows wrinkle at the bridge of his nose and when he closes his eyes, I drop to my knees.
I’ve never done this before but I’ve been in marching band for three years. Cheerleader’s bus-talk is better than porn star training videos.
Jackson’s sweats pull easily over his calves. I lift my head and take his tip into my mouth.
“Sweet Jesus.” He backs up a foot and drops onto the couch, taking me with him.
With better access, I explore him with my tongue. His tip has some salty liquid right by the hole. Curious, I play there while he squirms underneath me. Then, I travel under his silky head, down his long swollen length to his base while my fingers discover his balls.
He drops onto his elbows, panting, pulling my hair until I take as much as I can into my mouth. Too long, I wrap my fist around his base.
“Star, oh fuck me.”
“Mmm.” That is what I intend to do.
Having him flat on his back, breathing out my name, is an incredible aphrodisiac. I may cum with him, just watching his eyes pop out of his head.
With my eyes on his face, I blow out my cheeks and suck. Moaning, he sits up with his hands in my hair. With a lock of hair wrapped around his knuckles, he directs me better than any conductor, and I ready myself to swallow.
Instead, he lifts me under my arms, places me on my back, and drags my pants and undies off. Then, he climbs up my body, places his tip at my wet juices, and plunges in until we’re core to core.
“Oh my God! Jackson.” Nerve cells explode, neurons fire in an array of lights, and my clit is so sensitive, I may die.
He knows. Oh God, he knows and he dives into my pulsing muscles like a man who’s not had sex for years. Grunting, sweating, and thrusting, he takes me beyond high to this place I couldn’t imagine if I tried.
“Fuuuuck!!” He comes hard.
I scream and follow.
Together, our hearts race, time stands still, and we stay there for an eternity until my legs get tired. They unclamp from around his calves and we fall limp and sweaty onto the cot.
Neither one of us speaks until our hearts stop hammering.
“We should go.” He checks the time and moans.
“What?”
“I’m going to miss curfew.”
“Hurry up, go. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“Go.”
I rest on my back while he throws on his sweats, grabs his shoes, and dashes out the door. He’s the fastest guy on the team. He’ll probably make it.
Alone, spooky creaks and pops of the building creep me out. By the nurse’s counter, I find some paper towels, wipe myself, and get dressed. It hits me as I cross under the thick pipes, I will never be the same.
A couple of tears fall.
I can’t let love get in our way. He’s NFL bound and I’m off to the small state of Vermont to start a comfy little practice. I’ll ski in the winter, take two weeks off in the summer on Lake Champlain, and find someone with similar interests to marry and have kids with.
I sowed my wild oats.
Now, for Jackson’s career and my sanity, I need to let him go.
Chapter 14
Star
When my alarm goes off the next morning, I groan and glance at the time. Damn. I need to move it or miss my first class. With no shower, no coffee, and no brains, I jump into yoga pants and pull on a sports bra. The t-shirt musses up my already knotted hair. Grabbing a hat, I rush out of my empty house to campus.
After taking my psychology test, the last before the finals, I check my phone but there’s nothing from Jackson.
A little hurt, I finish up my morning classes and wander to Cranston hall, hoping to find a friendly face.
“Over here.” Kira waves me to where she sits alone.
“Hey.” Out of breath, I put down my tray and open my iced tea bottle while she eyes me too knowingly.
“You were late last night. All good with Jackson?”
I sigh and wipe off my spotty fork. “Yeah. It’s awesome but it can’t last.”
“Why not?”
“Oh my God, you’ve met my parents. Can you imagine?”
She snickers. “Parents? I thought you and him agreed to keep i
t light.”
I close my eyes to hold back tears, purse my lips and shake my head, no, unable to speak.
“Oh, hell, no. You fell for him?”
Sobs imminent, I nod.
“Does he know?”
I put the cold bottle of tea to my sore lips and gulp past the lump in my throat. “No. We made the most incredible love last night but he’s got problems, Kira.”
“People can change.” Her eyes get all wispy as she stares unfocused into the middle of the dining hall.
I snap my fingers in front of her face. “Jackson isn’t Ryan.”
She shrugs. “We broke up, too. He practically handed me off to his Hollywood friend. Can you believe it?”
I stab at a tomato, pop it in my mouth, and talk while I chew. “At least you didn’t try to be his therapist.”
She waves her fork at me as if it were a magic wand. “Get out of town. Are you still? Seeing him that way?”
I wish.
“No. I only did two sessions. He claimed he was cured, which I don’t believe for a moment. Oh my God. What if I’m in my comfort zone?”
She raises her brows, crunches on some carrots, then swallows. “Sorry, not following you.”
“Oh, right. It’s like this. People who’ve had to take care of an alcoholic parent growing up, will most always choose a mate with similar problems because it’s what they’re used to; their comfort zone, if you will.”
My friend frowns, the freckles in her nose wrinkling. “That doesn’t sound like you. Besides, who’s talking about marriage?”
“I know, I know, but if you put everything together, it’s not healthy.”
“Can’t you just… I don’t know, enjoy each other for the rest of the year? He’s really fine and you said he’s good in bed. He seems to like you. Do you have to worry if he’s forever material?”
Tears well again. “Fuck. I think it’s the real deal.”
Kira stands so she can take me in her arms and hug me. “Oh Star, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“He also said he loved Janet, his last girlfriend.”
“Yikes.” She closes her eyes.
“Right?”
“So, what are you going to do?”
Red Flag (FSCU Pitbulls Book 2) Page 7
