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Wittmore wins.

After the game, Axel strolls out in one of those sexy suits wearing the confident grin of a winner. Fans clamor around him, the crowd bigger and bigger every week, and he and the other guys stop to sign autographs. I feel the heat of his eyes keeping track of me while I wait by the edge of the parking lot.

He deserves the attention. He managed a rebound in the second half, shutting out Eastern’s offense. Bonus points for not throttling Rodgers in the process. In fact, the forward took aswing at Kirby and ended up in the box for the final minutes of the game.

“Hey,” he says making a beeline toward me. This is the stuff I’m not used to. Being the girl waiting out in the parking lot, not deep in a cell phone or waiting at home. He grabs me before I can overthink it and lifts me up, kissing me hard on the mouth. “Believe me now that you’re not bad luck?”

I smirk. “I believe you were sufficiently motivated to win that game.”

“Darlin’ it’s time you understand that you’re not shaking me. You’re my girl, and if we lose we lose, that’s got nothing to do with you and me.”

“What about all your superstitions? You’re telling me you believe in them?”

“To an extent,” he says, grinning and running his fingers over his mustache. “But that kind of thing can fuck with your head as much as anything else.” He tosses his bag in the bed of his truck and grabs me, pinning me against the side of the cab. “I want to see if you really were a good girl and followed directions, or if you were just fucking with me.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, shoving his hands under my shirt to fondle my breasts. “Fuck,” he groans, thumbs rolling over my nipples and sending a shiver down my spine. “Forget everything I just said. Now you’re going to have to show up to every game like this.”

My limbs turn to jelly, loosened by his greedy touch. I’m thankful that he opens the door for me, helping me inside the cab, even though his hand lingers on my ass a minute longer than necessary, making it worse.

“You’re too far away,” he says when he gets in the truck. Leaning over, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me down the bench. He smells clean, fresh, a far cry from the stink of the locker room. He plants a kiss against my neck. “That’s better.”

Tucked against his side, he makes the short drive to Shotgun. His fingers inch under the jersey, knuckles grazing the underside of my breast. It’s good. Teasing. The air crackles between us. It’s not all one-sided, I can’t stop touching him either, running my hand down his thigh, feeling the hard length of his erection grow thicker with every pass.

By the time we reach the Manor, we’re both squirming in our seats. The windows at the house are bright with light and people spill off the front porch. All the parking spots in front of the house are taken, so he drives around the back alley behind the house. It’s dark back here. Discrete, although the music blaring from the house as the post-game party gets started is loud enough to rattle the windows.

I shift, preparing to slide out the passenger side door, when he holds onto me. “Listen,” he says, peppering my throat with kisses. “We can go inside, talk to everyone, play a few games, listen to Reid’s shitty DJ’ing, and then go upstairs and fuck,or,and hear me out,” his fingers are back on my tits, toying with the nipple, “we fuck right now.”

There’s really no choice.

“Now,” I tell him, my body completely on the edge. “Fuck me now.”

He adjusts the seat and reaches over, dragging me onto his lap. His hands are hard and strong, greedy, and everything about this feels so fucking right. This whole day has been tinged with emotions. The highs and lows of the game. The weight of dating Axel and not just being some puck bunny waiting in the wings. I’m flush with energy, nerves, andadrenaline.All of it has combined into something combustible that needs a release.

I kiss him under the hard line of his jaw and loosen his tie and button down, while his strong hands push down my leggings.

“Christ,” he grunts, realizing I’m not wearing panties. “Okay, maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t know you were up there like this or I would’ve let in more goals.”

“You’re the one that said bare,” I remind him, rising up. It spurs him into action, unfastening his pants and pushing them down. He brings us together, two bodies aligned and I feel him swell between my legs. “We made a deal, I’m just holding up my end of it.”

“Such a good girl.” He pinches my ass and I rock into him, letting our sticky heat build. The car is dark, but there’s enough light coming off the back porch that I can see him watching me. I still have the jersey on, and something tells me he wants me to keep it that way. Even so, I feel wildly exposed, but I also can’t seem to care. Axel’s body is a masterpiece, the hard cut muscle and all the tattoos. There’s a post-game, frenetic energy running through him. It’s addictive.He’saddictive and I can’t seem to get enough.

Kissing me, his arm shoots out behind him, grappling to open the glove compartment door. Yanking out a string of condoms, he tears one off while I stroke his length. He hums, when I rub my thumb over the slippery tip. “Darlin’ slow down unless you want me to blow before I get inside.”

I pull back, watching him roll the rubber down and he lifts me up, slotting us together. “Ready?” he asks, his green eyes holding mine. I nod, bracing myself for the feel of him. His cock is an invasion, thick and hard. I exhale, letting myself adjust to his size. “You good?” he asks, kissing my mouth, my neck. “Talk to me, T.”

“I’m good,” I tell him. So good. Better than ever before. The car is hot, sweaty, our breath taking up all the air. He fills me up, meeting me thrust for thrust, letting our bodies provide the friction needed to set me loose. His head dips, and he pushes the shirt up, taking my nipple into his mouth. He sucks hard, tonguelathing over the tip, and my head falls back as the jolt of ecstasy slams into me.

I ride him hard, spiraling out, until his movements grow erratic, his breath shifting to a groan. Axel’s arms wrap around my body, holding me tight, and he whispers, “I’ve never felt so close to someone before,” seconds before every muscle in his body constricts, and he comes in hard, unrelenting thrusts. My pussy milks him, clenching against his length, wanting every last drop.

His face drops into the curve of my neck, chest to chest, our hearts pound hard against one another. The way he holds me, the way he doesn’t rush to move, to pull out and leave, makes me understand what it’s like to be in his line of vision. The thing Axel Rakestraw wants.

This feeling? I’ll take it as long as he’s willing to give it to me.

18

Axel

“Nervous?”