Page 12

Chapter Twelve

Scott

“Fuck it.”

I all but growl as her smirk turns victorious. She’s completely baited me into this but I cannot bring myself to give a shit.

Ivy presses against me. She’s so close. The friction sends sparks through my body. I suck at her lips, learning every inch of her delicious mouth. My fingers need into the soft flesh of her ass and my dick thickens.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck .

I should talk to her first. I should admit who the fuck I am and make sure she doesn’t completely hate me for it after she knows.

I definitely shouldn’t be burying my face in her neck and imprinting my fingerprints into her ass.

“Scott.” Her breath coasts over my skin, warm and light. I only grunt in answer, my lips not leaving her neck as I suck and nip and bite a path down her jaw. “Please take me upstairs.”

I know I should stop this.

I know I should tell her but my dick is in charge now.

Just once then I’ll tell her. I need to get her the fuck out of my system and clear my goddamn head. I don’t think once will be enough but this week has been a mind fuck. I haven’t seen her or spoken to her all that much. I haven’t worked on my strategy to come clean. All I have been doing is watching the stupid news coverage about her Pops and learning that her family is, or was, a big fucking deal in the football world .

It broke my heart to see her so heavy and defeated when she got out of her car tonight. She had this sad look on her face—broken, and tired, and grief-stricken—that had made me want to ensure she knew she isn’t alone. She never would be again

We all have things that we should have let go of but still carry. That’s why I shared about my birth mother.

I want Ivy to know that I’m just as vulnerable as she is.

I need her to know that.

Maybe if she knows that, she’ll remember it when I tell her who I am.

When I tell her I’ve pretty much been lying to her for a little over a month.

She presses onto her toes and her hips press into mine, trying to close the distance. A small whimper echoes through the air as I gently skim my teeth against her pulse point and I’ve had enough.

All thoughts of stopping leave my head as the cinnamon scent of her skin fogs my brain.

I grab two fistfuls of her ass and lift. Ivy’s legs wrap around my waist and tighten as I make my way over to the stairs.

Her grip is tight like she’s scared we’ll fall but she doesn’t stop kissing me and she doesn’t let me pull away. But when I readjust my grip on her at the top of the stairs, she unhooks her ankles and tries to wriggle free.

“If you’re trying to get me to put you down, it’s not happening,” I say digging my fingers into her ass even harder. For a second, I get the urge to ease up so I don’t mark her skin but then my cock twitches at the thought and I decide against easing up my grip.

I want to mark her.

To make sure that anyone who sees it—even though they fucking shouldn’t be staring at my girl’s ass—knows Ivy is mine.

From tonight, she’s mine.

Hell, she was mine the moment I laid eyes on her in that stupid sports bar.

“Aren’t I too heavy?,” Ivy says breathlessly .

“Please,” I tell her, tightening my grip as if to prove my point. “I bench two of you. Don’t worry, baby. I won’t drop you.” I pull back and catch her gaze. Her cheeks are flushed red and her bottom lip is pulled between her perfect teeth. Then I wink at her.

Ivy erupts into a fit of giggles.

“You did not just wink at me?”

She digs her hands into my hair and I shiver at the feeling of her nails scraping against my scalp. Her fingers twist in the hair at the base of my neck like she has done in every one of our high-school-like make out sessions lately. Fuck, but it feels so good.

We edge into her room but I don’t bother with shutting the door.

No need, we’re the only ones in the house.

I lower her onto the bed, following her down and crawling over her body. Her chest is heaving and she’s sucking in air like she’s trying to calm herself down. I don’t want her to calm down.

The fire I’m feeling reflects back at me through her eyes.

I stand up, eyes trailing down the soft curves of her body.

She’s so … real.

When the season ended last year, I had a fling with a cheerleader on the LA team. The girl was tiny, and blonde, and made of muscle. She’d been flexible but there had been nothing there. Nothing to sink my hands into, to massage, to feel .

Ivy is all curves, tempting and bathed in soft light.

Her bedside lamp is on and it’s casting the same shadows across her bedroom I’d seen in the picture she’d sent me a few weeks ago. It’s so pink if it was anyone else’s it might actually hurt to look at but now all I see is Ivy.

Soft, sweet, football hating Ivy.

“Scott,” she whispers, looking up at me from where she props herself up on her elbows on the bed. I realize I’ve just been staring at her for a beat .

“Sorry.” I lean down, my fingers trailing down her body and finding the waistband of her jeans. I hook my fingers under it and follow the band until I reach the button, popping it open and sliding the zipper down.

I don’t rush, slowly pushing her jeans over her hips and ass as I suck along the column of her neck. She stretches her head to the side to give me more access.

When I get her jeans to her knees, I stand back up to my full height over her. Her eyes flash with heat and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth again as I pull her jeans off completely and toss them behind me.

I almost laugh because when I look down at her, all I see are her pretty, lace pink panties. So fucking her.

Ivy doesn’t miss my smirk. “What?”

I trace the edge of the pink lace, around the curve of her hip and down her thigh, gently brushing over her center. She’s wet. I can feel it through the lace.

My cock twitches again, reminding me that I want to be inside her. Badly.

I stroke her lace covered center gently and Ivy’s breath hitches.

“Your panties are pink. Your room is pink.” I press my thumb to her clit through the fabric. “You match.” I can’t help laughing at her small groan as my thumb rubs slow, gentle circles over her clit. She wriggles beneath me, trying to create more friction.

She wants to get off.

I take my hand away, laughing lightly when she whimpers a weak protest but it’s silenced when I reach behind me to pull my hoodie and t-shirt off in one go. I drop them to the floor with her jeans and crawl over her body.

I trail a palm over each of her thighs, massaging her curves as I go. Reveling in the feel of her soft body. Fuck she feels good. It makes me want to see how many positions I can hold her in. How many times I can make her thighs shake as she comes .

I wonder if they shake. Maybe, the muscles in them tighten.

I want to find it all out now.

When I reach her hips, I push her body up the bed. She goes easily, fully pliant to my wordless command.

I hook my fingers around the lace of her panties and pull them down her legs too.

They make it to the pile of clothes.

Pink against the navy blue of my own jumper.

I hum as I settle between her legs, hooking my hands under her thighs and tugging until I’m inches from her bare pussy. “You even have a pretty pink pussy.”

Then I dive in. Licking, and sucking, and kissing her clit.

Ivy squirms under me, her moans coming easily now. I revel at the fact I’m the one pulling those sounds from her.

“God,” she moans. “Fuck. Shit.”

She lets me eat her out for a whole minute before her hands are in my hair again, directing me gently to where she wants— needs —my tongue. I let her. I let her show me where she needs the pressure, the friction.

When I flick her clit with my tongue before pulling it gently between my lips and sucking, she bucks against my face.

“Is that good, baby?” I ask, pulling away to stroke her opening. She’s soaking, my finger wet instantly. When she doesn’t reply, I press my thumb to her clit, making her jolt again.

Her eyes snap open and meet mine.

“Feel good, baby?” I ask again.

“Yes,” Ivy replies breathlessly. “Please keep going.”

I smirk and dive back in.

Whatever my girl wants.

This time as my tongue flicks against her clit and my finger plunges inside her entrance, she isn’t silent .

She moans, and whimpers, and swears. She lifts off the bed and grinds into my face, urging me on. Silently begging me to make her come and to hurry up about it.

I fucking love it.

My cock is practically weeping as I grind my own hips into the bed in time with her.

I suck hard on her clit, fucking her with my fingers. She starts to tremble and pride bursts in my chest. Her legs seize, thighs tightening and I feel her drag a heel up my back. When I glance up, she’s got a hand on one of her own tits, sweatshirt pushed up to expose her soft stomach. Her forefinger and thumb are tugging at her hard nipple.

I don’t stop sucking but I can’t take my eyes off her as she comes on my tongue.

Her eyes closed, her mouth parts in a silent ‘oh’ as she grinds, and writhes, and squirms.

When she explodes, it’s on my tongue and I can’t help but be proud that I made her come like that.

I lick her clean and crawl up the bed.

She blinks at me through her dark lashes, her chest heaving and cheeks red.

“My god, you’re good at that,” she whispers, smiling shyly.

“Thank you,” I chuckle.

I kiss her. She hums into my mouth and I know she can taste herself on my lips. I don’t care. She tastes sweet as hell.

Ivy’s fingers fiddle with my sweatpants. She hooks her fingers and pushes them down, nails scraping against my skin. My cock is finally free. I send the pants to the floor, along with her sweatshirt.

When I lean back over her, taking her mouth again, we’re both naked and pressed up against each other. I can feel every curve now.

“Can I …” she whimpers as I bite down on her lip. She pulls away a little, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “Can I, uh, return the favor? ”

God, she’s cute when trying to be sexy. I can tell she’s nervous at the idea. Her fingers wrap around my cock and when they barely meet, I hear the audible gulp of air she takes at the prospect of having my dick in her mouth.

Part of me wants to say yes.

Part of me wants to drag her off the bed and get her on her knees in front of me. Eyes watering, mouth filled, hair in my hands as she lets me fuck her mouth.

But that’s for another time.

The other part of me, the weeping, throbbing, huge part of me needs to get inside her.

“You can.” I stroke her cheek. “But another time. I need to be inside you.”

I trace a path down her neck, and draw two fingers through the valley of her breasts. Moving a thumb over her hard nipples, I play for a while, taking in the silence of nothing but Ivy’s breathing. Eventually, I lower my mouth and suck and I’m delighted to get the same reaction I got when I sucked on her clit.

Ivy arches off the bed, into my mouth, willing and wanting.

She’s so damn reactive.

Her hand still slowly pumps around my cock but when I suck harder on her nipple, she reacts by tugging harder. Twisting her hand a little. Running a thumb lightly over my tip.

Nope, that’s it.

I get off her, finding my sweatpants and digging for the condom I’ve kept in my wallet since our first date. When I join her back on the bed, she eyes the plastic.

“You just happen to be carrying one of those?”

“No.” I smirk, tearing at the wrapper with my teeth. “I’m carrying at least five. Don’t want to be caught needing to fuck you and be without a condom.”

She giggles, the flush covering her body .

I roll the condom on and position myself between her legs. We both watch as I drag the head of my cock through her soaking pussy. I groan at how wet she is.

“When will you need to fuck me five times though?” Ivy tries to hide her whimpers beneath the words but I still catch them. “Seems excessive.”

I slide my head from entrance to clit, soaking my cock before positioning myself. I lean in and the head of my cock notches just at her entrance. I’m throbbing, aching to get inside her.

“We both know …” I start edging inside, “… that just once …” I sink in a little further, her pussy stretching around me, clinging to me like it’s been waiting for me forever and now that I’m here, doesn’t want to let me to go, “… won’t be enough.”

I slide to the hilt, her warmth surrounding me.

Fuck. She feels better than I imagined.

God damn.

I'm so screwed.

I stay still, watching Ivy’s face as I wait for her to adjust.

She stares at me, humming at the feeling of me filling her.

“Are you going to move? What are you waiting for?” she asks after a moment and I can’t help the laugh that leaves me. She would still be asking questions in bed. I’m inside her and I’m laughing. I’m aching to move but truth is, I’m savoring the moment.

Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, the massive omission of what I do for a living flashes through my head like a brightly lit Vegas sign. But I ignore it. Glancing down at where our bodies meet, I push it aside and focus on her blue eyes, and her soft skin, and her beautiful curves.

Her thighs are splayed out on the bed underneath me, cradling me loosely. I run my hands over them, curling around them and lifting. I push her knees to her chest as I pull out of her, just so only the tip is in. I pause, smirking as she tries to lift up, trying to take me back inside .

“Scott,” she whines, lifting her hips again.

“Yes, baby?”

“Please move. Please .”

“You’re so polite when you’re so needy for me.”

I slam back into her, fingers digging into her thighs as I keep her with me. I pump, in and out of her in a hard and fast rhythm, grunting every time I feel the walls of her pussy clamp down on my cock.

Fuck, she’s tight.

I know I won’t last long so I focus on Ivy. Her tits are bouncing. She lifts a hand above her head to push against the headboard and her bottom lip is back between her teeth, trying her best to keep the delicious sounds she makes inside.

“Ivy,” I say wanting her attention. “Eyes on me.”

The navy blue meets mine and I feel my cock pulse.

I fuck her harder, slamming our hips together. I want her noises. Her whimpers. Her moans.

I want them all.

“Does it feel good, baby?” I ask, repeating the same words I used when fucking her with my tongue. She nods.

Not good enough.

I pump in again, one hand moving from her thigh to play with her clit. I circle my thumb, timing it with my hard and fast thrusts.

“Tell me, Ivy. Tell me how good it is. Look at me and tell me who’s fucking you.”

She starts to tremble, her body shaking and her pussy clamps down. She still shakes her head, moans falling from her lips even as she tries to keep them back.

I grunt. “I want to hear you when you come, Ivy.” She is so unbelievably wet. I know she’s close so I keep pushing. I keep thrusting into her, I keep circling her clit.

“Who’s fucking you, Ivy?”

“Oh, fuck. Scott,” she cries. “You! ”

She clamps down around me, pulsing, as she comes. I let go of her knees, falling into her as I keep pumping in and out, chasing my own release. I bury myself into her neck.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, and finally I get her words.

“God,” she cries, ankles locking behind my back as I continue to pump into her. “You feel so fucking good. Don’t stop, it feels so good.” I don’t plan to stop. I can feel my orgasm building at the base of my spine and I move harder, faster, erratically inside her.

I feel her start to tremble again beneath me. Her pussy is clamping down and she’s so wet, I’m slipping in and out her body with ease. Like her pussy was perfectly shaped to fit only me.

I groan.

“Fuck,” I grunt into her neck and her nails scrape down my shoulders.

“Scott,” she cries. “Scott, I’m going to come again. Please make me come again.”

And fuck if I don’t rise to the challenge.

I slam into her, reaching between us to rub her clit. She is anything but quiet now and her moans spur me on.

My cock throbs, her pussy pulses, and we come together this time.

I spill into the condom, sucking on her neck. My hand follows her body to one of her tits and I squeeze.

Ivy huffs out a breathless laugh, squirming beneath me a little. She’s so damn reactive, it’s so fucking hot.

I’m still inside her but I lean back, pecking her lips. She gives me a sedated smile, her eyes fluttering closed as I roll off her to deal with the condom.

When I join her back on the bed, she curls into my side. I lift one of her legs over mine and entangle us together.

“You’re right,” she murmurs into my neck as she burrows in. Her lips brush my skin. “Once isn’t enough.”

***

The images from last night replay over and over in my mind like it is the best damn movie I’ve ever seen.

Waking up this morning, kissing her and slipping out of her sheets, had been pure torture. For the first time ever in my career I was begging for a sleep in on game day, wishing I didn’t have the earliest report time than all my teammates because I needed a shoulder strapped before meetings and warm up.

We are playing in the primetime Sunday night football slot but the report time is still too damn early for my liking.

The corridors are quiet as I make my way back from the physical therapist’s suites and toward the locker room. I need to get my head right. Ivy is still front and center and whilst I don’t want to forget how it felt to slip inside her tight, hot body last night I also didn’t want to play my entire game semi-hard.

Fuck.

This girl has me so distracted I almost laugh out loud.

I run through the list of my pre-game rituals.

A few songs from my pump-up playlist.

Call my mom and tell her which pair of socks she’d gifted me I’ve decided to wear today. She’d laugh, tell me where she’d found them, then wish me luck.

What? Tons of athletes were superstitious about shit like that. Mine just happens to be with my mom.

Then I’ll grab a small plate of whatever catering has out and catch up with my O-line. The offensive linemen have my back out there but I’m new to this team and for us to be a unit, to meld and play like we’ve been together for years, I need to know them. To really know them.

So I’ll ask about their families and their wives or girlfriends. I commit the information to my memory and I gain their trust, and in turn they’ll gain mine. The results of this will show on the field.

In time .

I’m passing the passage that leads to the coaches’ private offices when I hear her laugh.

My feet stop on their own accord and my pulse races.

Fucking hell, what is she doing here?

Ivy stands in front of Coach’s office with another woman and Coach himself. She’s wearing a mid-length pink dress that hits her mid-calf. It’s tight on her waist, flowing freely from under her chest and all it does is push her perfect tits up to be the main star of the show.

Fucking pink, again.

My cock hardens and I reach down to adjust myself. My suit pants are fitted and they don’t leave much room to hide anything let alone my dick if I get hard right now. Besides I was just trying to forget about her so this exact thing didn’t happen.

Impossible now.

Seeing her here, with her long hair curled down her back and the straps of her dress so thin on her shoulders I could probably recreate the same path I’d kissed last night without even removing them.

My body hums with the want to go over there and wrap my arms around her.

To bow my head and press my lips into her neck. To inhale her sweet, cinnamon sugar scent.

Then I want to drag her into one of these empty offices, lock the door, and sink right back into her. Messing up her hair and making her moan just like I had last night.

The need is so powerful, I almost do it.

Instead, I stay rooted to the spot as I listen to the voices carry down the hallway. I lean against the wall, hidden behind the corner from their view.

“I appreciate the offer but I really need to get home. I go back to work tomorrow and I have so much to catch up on already,” Ivy tells them. Her voice sinks into my skin like a soothing balm .

“Come on, Ives.” The other woman with them whines. “When was the last time you came to a game?”

Her laugh rings out and carries my way. It wasn’t as light, as musical as normal. She’s forcing it as she replies. “Not since I was a kid. You know that.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just watch from one of the boxes with Brooke? You can eat something and you guys can catch up, no watching of the game actually required,” Coach replies. Their voices are getting closer and closer.

Shit, are they walking this way?

“I’m good. But thank you. And good luck with the game.” Ivy’s voice is quiet and reserved as she answers him. Surely, she’s seen a game since she was a kid?

There is no way she can be a Booker and never watch football?

I’m still struggling to reconcile what I know about her family and her hatred for the sport.

I itch to turn the corner and beg her to stay, to tell her right now and ask her to watch me play. The cocky teenage boy in me wants to poke my chest out and show off. Show her what I’m good at, what I can do out on that field.

“Thanks Kiddo,” Coach replies, so close they must be just on the other side of the corner now.

“Bye dad. I’ll be back later, after we have lunch,” Brooke, Coach’s daughter I realize, says.

There is some shuffling, a few muffled hugs and then there she is.

Ivy turns the corner, heading in the opposite direction from me. They didn’t notice me standing against the wall, hardly breathing. Ivy loops her arm through Brooke’s and is led away.

The pink dress swishes around her legs. The same legs that I'd thrown over my shoulders just last night. The same that had locked around me when I’d slid inside her.

Shit .

No. Stop.

Game thoughts only.

No Ivy thoughts.

No. Ivy. Thoughts.

“Harvey? What are you doing, son?” I jump, flinching hard.

“I-uh.” My eyes follow the girls, now so far down the corridor I can’t even hear their footsteps echoing anymore.

“You see the physio?” Coach slaps my shoulder and jerks his head as he walks in the direction I’d been going. “Feeling alright?”

“Yeah. I—” I clear my throat.

I need to forget about Ivy for now and focus.

I have a game to win.

I recover, shaking my head and matching Coach’s pace. “Yeah. I thought we could run over those plays we worked on for their O-line?”

“Let’s walk.”