Page 14 of 4th and Goal (Season of Change #4)

Kitchen counter. Shower. Couch. Dining table. SUV. Bed. I mentally tick off the numerous places Brody and I have had sex over the last couple of weeks. And I’m still counting…

Sex is awesome! It’s not boring at all. So many varied and inventive ways to be intimate with another person. Brody has an active imagination and I’m reaping the benefits of his creativity.

I was wrong. So very wrong. Everything I believed Conner to be was what I was taught, what I was shown to look for in a relationship.

The passion, the fire and mad lust were never discussed because I firmly believe the adults in my life never experienced it themselves.

While I’m loath to think of my parents in this way, there is no doubt in my mind they never burned as hot and bright as Brody and I do.

How could they, and then fizzle into glorified roommates over the years?

No, they can never know what they’re missing, and I would have happily lived in ignorance right alongside them, oblivious to what a real partnership, true love means.

Until Brody. And it’s not just the sex, though again, it’s awesome!

It’s feeling connected to someone in a visceral way.

Their hurt is your hurt. Their joy is your joy.

Sharing a heart, sharing a soul, swimming side by side in the sea of endless possibilities of a future you both are working so hard to build together.

Jenna tells me not to beat myself up for wasting so many years.

Brody feels just as guilty, knowing we could have had all this so much sooner.

However, Jenna often reminds me that who we are today has been formed by all that we’ve survived and perhaps we have finally come together because neither of us was ready until now.

I’d like to think she’s right, though I do not like telling her that.

My time with Conner gave me a different perspective, allowing me to fully embrace my connection with Brody because I had something to compare it to.

To understand how special what we have is amidst the millions of decisions we’ve made along the way that could have kept us from meeting, or working together, forming a friendship first, and finding unending love.

Someone knocks on my office door, and I startle, my chin slipping from my upturned hand. I manage to stop my chin from smacking into my desk. That’s what I get for daydreaming during work hours.

“Come in.” I straighten in my seat, attempting to look professional. Brody opens the door and pops his head around it with a sexy grin.

“Lils.” I feel my cheeks flame and I know the moment he notices since his grin grows and he chuckles. “Whatchya thinking about?”

“Logistics,” I answer vaguely. Something heats in his eyes, and he enters, shutting the door behind him. I hear the lock click. Like Pavlov’s dog, my pussy tingles, my nipples harden, and my spine snaps to attention.

“Funny. I was thinking about logistics too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He saunters around my desk. I swivel in my chair to face him.

He smirks down at me, then he’s lifting me up and sitting me on my desk.

Inches from my face, he tells me, “I was thinking about this fucking skirt you teased me with this morning and the most expedient way to get it up over your hips and your cum in my mouth.” Hand against the front of my throat, he urges me to lay down on the clean side of my desk, parts my legs with his big body, and shoves my skirt up.

I try to watch, but he won’t let me, his hold on my throat just tight enough to keep me in place.

Thick fingers slide the gusset of my underwear to the side, and between one breath and the next he’s filling me up with at least two, maybe three fingers.

He doesn’t pump them like usual, rather turns his hand over so his fingers massage against an ultrasensitive spot inside, his thumb on my clit.

He does this weird thing where it feels like he’s trying to rub his thumb against his two fingers despite my body being in the way.

It lights me up instantly, every nerve ending in my body on fire.

My hands slam on the desk, futilely gripping the smooth surface, as he tries his level best to kill me with overwhelming drugging pleasure.

“God, Lils, the way your body sings for me…nothing better than watching you drown in ecstasy, knowing my fingers, my tongue, my cock are the only things in this world that can unravel you so completely. I want you to let it happen, baby girl, let it take you under.” He leans over me, his fingers still driving me wild with need, his upper lip curling as he demands, “Cum.”

I nod, close my eyes, and let it happen as he said. My back bows, my neck arches, and my poor legs shake uncontrollably. Suddenly his fingers are gone, and I feel empty until he latches his mouth to my pussy and sucks the rest of my orgasm straight from the source.

He’s so tender, affectionate as he rights my clothes, pulling my boneless body up from my desk, and fixing my hair.

He kisses me lazily, whispering his love and devotion against my lips.

When I reach for the bulge in his pants, he holds my wrist to stop me.

“Got to finish up, then we’ll get dinner. ”

“Then I can have my snack?” I tease, fluttering my lashes at him.

“Rude. I ain’t no snack wrap, baby girl. I’m the whole footlong sandwich.” My heart feels light and bubbly in my chest, happiness coursing through my veins.

I roll my eyes, hopping off my desk and finish straightening my clothing. “The only thing men can agree on is the gross exaggeration of an inch.”

“You’re gonna pay for that.” He kisses me hard and punishing, before stepping away and adjusting his erection in his pants. He is most certainly not a snack wrap, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to tell him that and feed his ego. Me walking bowlegged is proof enough.

With the game over, I start to gather my things to head out with him when he’s done.

I don’t normally come in every game day, but I enjoy being near him.

Plus, it’s easier for me to draft the post-game press release and talking points for the new Head Coach Brandon Beiler during his press conferences.

Unfortunately, Brody and I skip dinner when Lyndell and Edee are attacked in the concourse of the stadium.

It’s hours of chaos, as police hold the participants in custody as they sort through the mess, not to mention the large search effort to find Lyndell.

My heart hurts for that sweet boy. I know he’s older than me, but Lyndell is the purest soul I’ve ever met.

He is the living embodiment of joy. He and his brother Ty are so special to me.

Their personal struggles and enduring spirits are the reason Beiler and I went to bat for them after their car accident.

They are the heart of this university in so many ways.

The fact that someone wanted to hurt Lyndell is mind blowing.

The fact that Shaye, Lindsay, and Jillian were involved is less difficult to comprehend, but no less infuriating.

Before Brody and I make the short trip to his apartment, Lyndell has been found, and the university has started disciplinary action against the guilty parties.

We’re exhausted, mentally and physically, I don’t even have the energy to eat.

Inside Brody’s apartment, we stand in the foyer, my face buried in his chest as he holds me. I push him away, put my bag on his kitchen table, and pull out my laptop. I have to get a statement together right away.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to get a statement together for the university. And I want to talk to Ty about something, I’m gonna make some notes for talking points—”

“Lilly. Stop.”

“I’m good, second wind.” I wave him off and put my fingers on the keyboard, a blank document staring back at me.

“No.” He pushes the laptop closed and picks me up from the couch. I’m not a small girl and his strength always amazes me, and turns me on, but not right now.

“Brody! Put me down. I have work to do.”

“No.” In his bedroom, he stands me next to the bed and systematically removes my clothing until I’m blinking up at him naked.

“We can’t have sex! Brody, seriously.” He grabs my legs, upending me onto the bed, then starts stripping himself.

He climbs over me, notching his cock at my entrance and slowly pushes inside me.

Despite my protests, I’m primed and ready, relishing when the broad head slides inside, stretching me to accept him.

Fine, we’re having sex. I lightly kick him with my heel to get him to move faster.

I gyrate beneath him, encouraging him to fuck me.

“No.”

I scream in frustration. “You can’t just keep telling me ‘no’!” He doesn’t respond, his hips slow and steady, driving deep. “Brody! Fuck me!”

“No.” I scratch my nails down his back in punishment.

Bite his bottom lip. I roll my nipples and pinch them, but he grabs my wrists and holds them above my head.

Tears sting my eyes, and when they tip over my lashes, Brody kisses each one away.

Our bodies flush, one hand on my jaw, the other still on my wrists, we begin to move as one.

Like a wave rolling into shore. Sensual.

His eyes lock with mine and I want to close them, block him out, but he doesn’t let me.

“What happened tonight…there are no words for the injustice of it all, baby girl.”

“I know.” My voice hoarse with emotion. “That’s why I need to write the press releases—”

“It can wait until tomorrow.” Featherlight kisses at the corners of my mouth draw a ragged breath from deep in my chest. “You’re too upset.”

“Phia almost died! Lyndell and Edee were attacked! One thing after another this season, Brody, of course I’m upset!

” I sob, ugly broken cries that wrack my body and leave me breathless.

Yet, Brody never stops, and I fight his hold on my wrists.

He loosens enough for me to wrap my arms around him; my legs cinching tight to his waist and holding on with everything I’ve got.

My anchor in a turbulent sea. “I’m not supposed to get close with the students, but these are my people . And they are hurting, Brody.”

“I know, Lils.” He kisses me. “I know. Let me soothe your hurt, then you can soothe theirs.”

So, I let him. I give him my broken pieces, and he glues them back together until I feel whole again.

And then I fight for my people.