It’s strange to realize that I was wrong in my assessment of his body. Brayden isn’t hard everywhere. His scrotum is soft. I palm one side and then the other. And just like the rest of him, this is big as well. I rise onto my knees to close the distance between us. My tongue flicks over one ball, circling it with the tip of my tongue before sliding over to give the same attention to the other.
“That feels so damn good,” he groans.
I dance beneath the soft flesh of his sac before licking a path to the root of his cock. Only then do I flatten my tongue against him, running it to the crown and circling around the bulbous head before finally sucking him inside my mouth. A hissed breath escapes from his lips. Even though I’ve only just taken him inside me, already I feel the tension that radiates off him in thick waves. It won’t take much for him to lose all semblance of control.
His pelvis tilts forward as his fingers tunnel through my hair, locking around the sides of my skull to hold me in place. I flick my gaze upward, only to find his attention riveted to me. There’s something incredibly intimate about maintaining eye contact while performing this act. It’s not something I always do, but, in this moment, it feels strangely right. I want to savor every expression as it flashes across his face. He stares at me as if my mouth alone could bring him to his knees.
Every time I draw him in deeper, the crown of his cock nudges the back of my throat. With each repetition, I swirl my tongue around the tip. His jaw locks, the muscles ticking. If he clenches it any harder, it’ll shatter into a million jagged pieces.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “that’s going to make me come.”
When he attempts to push me away, I give my head a little shake.
“Sydney,” he growls.
“It’s fine,” I say around his length.
“Are you sure?” His voice dances precariously close to the edge, just like he is. And I love it. Love that I have this power over him. That I can so easily make him lose control.
The look in my eyes must say it all. The edges of his lips quirk just a bit as his fingers tighten around my scalp as if to guide me along his length. His gaze stays locked on mine as his muscles stiffen.
A long, guttural groan explodes from him as a burst of saltiness hits the back of my throat. My mouth turns voracious as I keep up a constant pressure until he finally softens. Only then do I pull away and kiss the tip. Before I can catch my breath, Brayden reaches down, lifting me from my knees and pressing me against the broad expanse of his naked chest. His lips crash onto mine, kissing me as he thrusts his tongue inside my mouth.
He pulls away enough to growl, “You taste just like me. Do you have any idea how sexy that is?”
And then he’s back to devouring me. It’s enough to make my head spin. There’s a heated look in his eyes as he places me on the bed. His fingers go to my shirt, peeling it away from my body before he makes quick work of removing the jeans.
“Turnabout is only fair play, don’t you think?”
Actually, I couldn’t agree more.
Before I can blink, every stitch of clothing has disappeared. His movements still as his gaze roves greedily over me, touching upon every dip and rise. It’s strange to think that this is the first time Brayden has seen me naked when I’ve studied him on multiple occasions for hours at a stretch. I’ve scrutinized every slab of muscle and contour of his form. I could close my eyes and sketch every single inch of him.
“How are you this gorgeous?”
The tightly muttered compliment sends a thrill of pleasure through me. His words should be meaningless, but it’s obvious they’re not.
We both agreed that this is just sex.
Nothing more.
A perk of our fake relationship.
As he moves between my spread thighs, his warm breath drifts across my core. A shiver of anticipation slides down my spine as his tongue dances over me before spearing inside.
Pleasure gathers inside me as a whimper escapes. It won’t take much to push me over the edge. I’m already so turned on by taking him in my mouth.
That’s a first for me.
His hands fasten on my inner thighs, pushing them further apart before worshipping every delicate inch. He licks from the bottom of my slit to my clit, lavishing me with so much attention that holding back the orgasm becomes impossible, and, within seconds, I find myself coming undone beneath his talented mouth.
Before I can blink, he’s crawling up my body and settling on top of me. His mouth crashes against mine, his tongue thrusting inside to tangle with my own. The taste of my arousal floods my senses and heightens my desire.
My breath catches at the back of my throat when his thick cock settles at my entrance. Even though I came just moments ago, another wave of need crashes over me, threatening to drag me to the bottom of the ocean.
Just as he’s about to thrust inside me, he pauses.
“I need a condom.” His voice is strung so impossibly tight, it could snap at any moment.
Oh my god. How could I forget about protection? I’m a safety girl. At least, I usually am. This just goes to show how crazy this guy makes me.
When I nod, he rolls away. His feet hit the floor before he hastily searches through his pile of clothing for his wallet and grabs a small packet. With deft fingers, he rips into the square before sheathing himself in latex. And then he’s back, taking up his position between my spread legs.
It only takes one sharp thrust before he’s filling me to the brim. Less than a dozen strokes later and his muscles tighten. The moment he arches, a growl leaves his lips as I follow him over the precipice. My body convulses, milking every last drop from him until he collapses on top of me.
No matter what I thought sex with Brayden would be like, I could never have imagined how spectacular it would feel.
Unwilling to dwell on those thoughts, I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. No matter what this is between us, I’ll enjoy it for as long as it lasts. And when it’s over, I’ll walk away with my emotions firmly intact.
Shouldn’t be a problem, right?
Chapter Twenty-One
Brayden
I’m cruising through the Union, mentally going over the list of bullshit that needs to get checked off before the end of the day. I’ll tell you what, the grind never ends. After an early morning lift, I hit the showers and got dressed before hauling ass to two classes. One of my business professors was considerate enough to surprise us with a pop quiz.
Dick.
It took every bit of brain power to dredge up the answers and get them onto paper.
With the first part of my day finished, the plan is to grab lunch and head over to the library for an hour of studying. After that, I have one last class before I need to hustle back to the stadium for a two-hour practice. I’ll shower again, cram in a little more studying, and hit the sack. Then I’ll get up tomorrow and do it all over again.
Anyone who thinks it’s easy to be a student athlete doesn’t know what the hell they’re talking about. Sometimes, it sucks major ass. When we’re in season, my day is scheduled down to the last minute.
That being said, have I ever thought about quitting to be a regular student on campus without all the responsibility that comes along with being an athlete?
Nope.
The endgame is the NFL. For the foreseeable future, I’ll work my ass off to attain my goals. No matter how much time it takes or how little sleep I get. If I have to burn the candle at both ends to make it through graduation, I’ll do it.
My father played football at Western before getting drafted to the pros. I want to follow in his footsteps. Memories of throwing around the ball in the backyard are some of the most cherished ones I have. And I hold them the closest. He played in the pros for fifteen years before sustaining an injury he couldn’t come back from.
He was there for every game I played from elementary up through high school until he was taken away from us. He spent years coaching me. I enjoyed how both the kids and parents would
crowd around him, wanting to listen to the stories of his glory days. My chest would puff up with pride as I hung onto every word, even though they were tales I’d heard so many times I could recite them myself.
What I’m trying to achieve is not only for me. It’s a tribute to him.
So far, I’m on track to make it happen. It’s bittersweet to know that the man who was my hero is no longer here to see me accomplish my goals. To take pleasure in his son turning his dreams into a reality. The ones we set together when I was just a skinny-ass kid who could barely catch a football.
I glance at the different restaurants that line the inside of the building and try to decide what would be the easiest to grab and eat on the go. There’s a smoothie shop that sells pitas and wraps, another with burgers and chicken sandwiches, and then pizza. The pizza gets instantly nixed. All the grease and cheese will end up settling like a rock at the bottom of my gut. That leaves a grilled chicken sandwich or a wrap.
Since I had a sandwich yesterday, we’ll go for a wrap today.
I can wolf it down on my way to the library and it won’t ruin my girlish figure. I’m doing my best to stay in top form. The NFL Combine is coming up and I need to impress the scouts. Rowan is lucky. There’s already a buzz surrounding him. And there’s talk about me as well, but a lot of sportscasters will bring up my father and rehash the highpoints of his career. I want them focused solely on me. On my accomplishments and abilities.
As I step in line, my hand automatically reaches for my phone. I hate how tempting it is to shoot Sydney a text and see what she’s up to. As soon as I conjure up a mental image, memories of what it feels like to slide deep inside her crash over me like a tidal wave, flooding me with pleasure. We’ve had sex a few times and it just keeps getting better and better. There’s something about her and the way our bodies fit together perfectly. It’s almost as if she were made for me.
The moment that thought pops into my head, I stuff the phone back into my pocket, resisting the urge to touch base. I had assumed we would knock boots once or twice and then I’d get bored or lose interest. Most of the time, that’s what happens. But it’s turned out to be the complete opposite. The more I have, the hungrier I am. Where that girl is concerned, I’m insatiable. This is a first for me, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it. Fucking Sydney out of my system hasn’t turned out to be as clear-cut as I’d originally assumed. Maybe I need to chill out on the whole sex thing for a few days until I get a firm handle on the situation.
That’s probably a good plan moving forward. It’s not like I don’t have enough to occupy my time.
I almost snort.
Although, a jam-packed schedule certainly hasn’t prevented me from dropping by her place for a little naked time.
Someone calls out my name as they saunter past. Just as I raise my hand in response, I catch sight of a familiar blonde head on the other side of the open space. I shift my stance and crane my neck, attempting to get a better look.
Yup, that’s definitely Sydney. It seems like everywhere I go, there she is. I’m about to force myself to turn away when I realize that she isn’t alone.
My brows snap together.
Wait just a minute...
Is that a guy sitting across from her?
All thoughts of the wrap I’d been about to grab disappear as I stalk through the Union to the table where Sydney and the interloper are parked. As I get closer, I realize there’s a tray with crumpled wrappers pushed off to the side, which means they must have grabbed a meal together.
What the hell is she doing, eating lunch with another guy when she’s fake dating me?
A genuine smile lights up her face as she laughs. Even from this distance, I hear the husky sound of her amusement. When was the last time she looked at me that way?
Happy and totally carefree.
Oh, right—it was never.
Sydney is more guarded in her responses when we’re together, as if she’s holding bits and pieces of herself back from me. Sure, she’ll laugh, but it’s never carefree and relaxed.
Who the hell is this douche?
My narrowed gaze lands on him. There’s something about the guy that has me suspecting he might be older. Most college students go for more casual, comfortable clothing. Instead of a T-shirt and jeans or athletic shorts, he’s wearing khaki pants and a crisp, blue button-down. His dark, wavy hair is styled instead of looking like he rolled out of bed in the morning and ran his hand absently through it.
Is this what she’s into?
Older dudes?
Something white hot bursts to life inside me before blazing its way through my body like molten lava. My feet almost stutter to a halt when I realize what this unknown emotion is.
Jealousy.
I’m fucking jealous.
Guess there really is a first time for everything. I’ve never liked a girl enough to feel this kind of all-consuming sensation take root inside me. I want to grab that guy by his perfectly pressed shirtfront and haul him to his feet. Maybe punch him in his pretty boy face a few times before tossing him to the side. How much would Sydney be smiling at him if I were to do that?
She wouldn’t be. Although, it’s doubtful she’d be showering me with happiness either.
I drag a hand through my hair as I consider how to play this. Unfortunately, there isn’t any more time for decisions. I’ve arrived at the table, and Sydney’s head is turning in slow motion. Her green eyes widen when she catches sight of me. Or maybe it’s my pissed-off expression that has her muscles tensing and her face freezing.
Not bothering with a greeting, I grab a chair from a nearby table and drag it next to hers before dropping down and slinging my arm around her shoulders. My gaze stays pinned to the guy across from her.
If this dude thinks he can just waltz in and steal my girl, he’s seriously mistaken.
Wait a minute...my girl?
Fuck.
This situation is much worse than I suspected. But there isn’t time to dwell on that now. I’ll deal with the ramifications later. First, I’ve got a douchebag to set straight.
“Hey, babe.” My other hand slides across her jaw, rotating it until she has no other choice but to meet my gaze. When she opens her mouth—most likely to ask what the hell I’m doing—I press my lips to hers. The kiss might be brief, but I’ve proven my point as to who this girl belongs to.
Me.
She belongs to me.
The asswipe seated across from us raises his brows as I give him a chin lift in silent greeting.
He settles back against his chair before crossing his arms over his chest, looking none too pleased that I’ve swooped in on his action. “Who are you?” he asks in a clipped tone.
Who am I?
Who am I?
That’s rich.
“Brayden Kendricks.” There’s a pause before I drop the bomb that should put an end to this. “Sydney’s boyfriend.”
“Huh. Well, that’s certainly interesting,” he muses, nodding in her direction. “My sister failed to mention that she recently acquired one of those.”
I’m sorry, come again?
Did he just say sister?
I give Sydney a bit of side-eye to get a read on the situation. By the tight slash of her lips, I’m fairly sure that I made a massive tactical error. One I can’t come back from.
Well, shit.
Everything inside me loosens as I hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Now that he’s pressing his lips together in the same way the girl bristling next to me is, I’m able to see the family resemblance. Although, it’s doubtful Sydney would appreciate me commenting on it.
“Brayden, this is my brother, Court,” she grumbles, sounding none too pleased about being forced to make introductions.
The other guy tips his head toward me as his gaze pins Sydney in place. “So how long has this been going on for? I just saw you last week and you didn’t say a word.”
If it’s possible, Sydney’s lips f
latten even further. They’re barely perceptible. My guess is that she’s about to blurt out the truth, and I don’t want her to do that.
“It’s a relatively new development,” I cut in smoothly before she can blow our cover to smithereens. “Just a couple of weeks.”
His eyes narrow as he ignores me. “Last I heard, you were taking a break from dating.”
Sydney draws in a deep breath before steadily releasing it back into the world. I can’t claim to know her well, but I’m fairly certain she’s on the verge of losing it.
“If you have to know,” I pipe up, “I swept her off her feet and didn’t give her much choice in the matter.” It’s not a total lie.
The choice part, anyway.
“Huh. I suppose you’ll be bringing him to the party on Sunday?” Court asks.
I can practically hear Sydney groan. “No, I don’t—”
“I bet Mom would love to meet him,” he interrupts as a slow smirk curls around the edges of his lips. “In fact, everyone would enjoy meeting him.”
“What?” Her eyes bulge from their sockets before she shakes her head. “No, it’s much too early for something like that. Give it a month or two.”
“Nonsense.” There’s a pause as his gaze lands on me. “What do you say, Brayden? Any interest in meeting the fam?”
“As much as he would love to,” Sydney cuts in, “he’s busy this weekend. You might not realize this, but Brayden plays football, and his schedule is packed tight.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of who he is.” The challenge is there in his eyes. It’s like he just threw down a gauntlet and is waiting for me to pick it up.
And I’ll be damned if I don’t rise to the occasion.
“Luckily for me, I just so happen to be free on Sunday, and I’d love to meet your family, babe.”
“Great.” Even though he smiles, there’s nothing friendly about it. “I’ll share the good news with everyone.”
Campus Heartthrob (The Campus Series Book 2) Page 15
