Page 16

Jordan

S utton fits in with my teammates like she belongs, but if Diego doesn’t stop grinning at her from across the table, he’s going to be missing teeth before the end of the night.

“You want her fucking autograph or something?” I growl at him, throwing my arm across Sutton’s shoulder to haul her closer to me. “It’ll last longer than that goofy-ass grin on your face, motherfucker.”

A loud laugh rumbles from his lips before he leans back, his fingers wrapped around his beer bottle. His brown eyes meet mine, dancing with amusement. “So, you’re finally out of the Sahara and still irritable as hell, huh? Fucking figures with your big ass.”

Sutton shoots a curious glance my way, her brows furrowed. “The Sahara? When did you go to Africa?”

Diego chokes on his beer, laughing his ass off.

I shoot him a dirty glare. I swear to God, I hope he falls in love someday, and the girl tells him to get lost. “I wasn’t in Africa. He’s just an idiot.”

“Yeah, it’s not that kind of desert,” he adds…un-fucking-helpfully.

“Not that kind of desert?” Sutton looks between the two of us, clearly lost.

I growl a curse, lowering my voice so it doesn’t carry to the rest of my nosy-ass teammates. “He’s talking about fucking, princess.”

“Oh!” Her eyes fly open wide, her cheeks turning pink. “Oh. Well, then.” She coughs delicately and grabs her drink, taking a sip.

“Driest desert in all the land,” Diego says, taking another long pull from his bottle.

“Shut the fuck up, Diego.”

He just chuckles, amusement written all over his face, the asshole.

“Actually,” Sutton says, and I know I’m going to live long enough to regret whatever is about to come out of her mouth as soon as I see the mischievous look on her face. “It’s been raining in the Sahara recently. A lot, as a matter of fact.”

Diego cracks up, holding his hand out for a fist bump. When I don’t give it to him, Sutton does. Naturally.

He flicks his gaze in my direction, all smiles. “I like her, Silvestri.”

“I will fucking end you,” I say flatly. It’s not a threat, just a simple statement of fact. There are guys on this team I’d trust alone in a room with her. Diego Tapia is not one of them. I wouldn’t trust a pet goldfish alone in a room with him.

“I’m just saying,” he protests with a laugh.

“Say it to someone else, motherfucker.” I splay my hand across Sutton’s shoulder. Don’t care if the move is possessive and territorial. She’s mine. End of discussion.

She snuggles up against me with a sigh, her eyes locked on Diego. “You’re a strange man, Diego Tapia.”

“He’s a goalie. They’re all strange, princess.”

“Uh, fuck you very much,” Logan says from my other side, flipping me off. “I’m normal as fuck.”

“Right,” I say, drawing the word out. Everyone at the table laughs, earning glares from Logan. “You’re the strangest goddamn goalie I’ve ever met, Moreno.”

It’s not a lie. Half of them, like Diego, are basically squirrels on caffeine. The other half just don’t talk at all. Logan is an outlier. He’s too normal to be a goalie, and yet, he’s one of the best I’ve ever seen. It’s fucking strange.

I respect the hell out of him, though. Out of everyone on this team, I relate to him more. He gets what it’s like to sacrifice his own happiness for the people he cares about. He did that shit for years to protect his sister.

Judging by the way he and Peyton are cuddled up together in the booth, though, he took my advice. It’s good to see. He deserves his own thing, his own peace. Looks like she might be it for him.

“See? Out of the Sahara, and still a cranky bastard,” Diego says.

“When did you go to Africa?” Micah asks a moment later, his brows furrowed.

“He didn’t. Diego is talking about sex,” Sutton says matter-of-factly. “Apparently, talking about it is the only action he gets. Kind of like when he’s in the goal.”

I throw my head back, laughing loudly as Diego’s mouth pops open in shock. Maybe she fits in a little too well with my teammates. And maybe I fucking love that.

Who am I kidding? There isn’t a damn thing about her that I don’t love.

Five years didn’t change my feelings for her.

If anything, they only grew more intense, more desperate.

Now, she’s here. She’s mine. And I’m constantly on the verge of just…

losing it over her. I feel like I’m constantly walking on cloud nine.

I’m happy in a way I’ve never been. It’s peaceful. It’s easy. And it sets me on fire like nothing ever has. I want my hands on her every minute of the day. She consumes every thought in my head.

The shit with her brother feels a whole lot less complicated with her in my arms, looking at me like I’m the only thing she sees. But that shit is complicated, though. It’s hanging over us like a storm cloud. And little by little, I find myself more uneasy about keeping the truth from her.

A big part of me just wants to tell her the whole ugly story and get it over with so it isn’t between us anymore.

The other half knows that if I do that, she’ll hate him.

It’s an impossible choice. I keep something from her that she deserves to know, something that may eventually tear us apart.

Or I tell her, and watch it potentially tear her apart.

How do I make that decision when the consequences are so massive?

I don’t want the past to matter anymore. And yet, it’s standing like a roadblock in our future. What am I supposed to do? Risk destroying us…or risk destroying her? Either way, she loses. Either way, she gets hurt.

Christ, I wish I’d hit Jamison again after our last game.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Sutton whispers, pressing her tits up against my side.

“You,” I say. It’s not a lie. I’m always thinking about her. Every minute of the day.

She beams up at me, and my damn heart stutters and stalls before racing away. That’s the power she has over me. That’s just what she does to me. I’m hers, all the way to my soul. Every atom, every quark, every thought.

“Yeah?” Her smile grows, stretching across her face so fucking big. “I’ve been thinking about you, too.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” She bobs her head in a nod, craning to place her lips next to my ear. “I’ve been thinking about that thing you do with your tongue. You know, the one where you give me repeated orgasms?”

“Fuck,” I growl, my bottle thumping against the wooden tabletop as I plunk it down.

My dick is hard and aching, pressing insistently against my zipper.

My hands itch to sink into her hips and haul her onto my lap, to give her what she wants right here and now.

To hell with everyone around us. I want her moaning and screaming for me.

Her teeth close around the shell of my ear, and I practically haul her up out of her seat. Everyone turns to look at us, but I’m already sliding from the booth with my arm around her waist. “We’re leaving.”

Diego smirks like he knows exactly where we’re going, but I don’t pay him any attention. I don’t say goodbye, either. I just stomp away, ignoring the laughter and catcalls thrown at our retreating backs.

Somehow, we make it all the way to my truck before I have her pressed up against the side, her cheek against the glass, my dick against her ass. My teeth sink into the side of her throat as I slip my hand into her pants, desperate to touch her, to have her falling apart for me again.

“You like fucking with me in public, princess?” I rasp, shoving my hand into her panties.

She’s already drenched, her sticky juices hot against my fingertips.

I roll my thumb over her clit, pushing two fingers deep inside her.

“You like making me so fucking hard I can’t think about anything but this right here? ”

“No,” she gasps, already writhing beneath me, rocking against my hand. “I fucking love it, Jordan.”

I groan, burying my face in her throat. I feel like I’m spiraling out of control for her, just losing all sense of reason or reality. The whole world is reordering itself. It no longer revolves around the sun. It revolves around her. Her happiness. Her pleasure.

“I love you wild,” she whispers. “I love you desperate.”

“Show me how much you love it.”

She immediately reaches behind me, trying to get her hands on my cock, but that’s not what I want. I want her riding it, fucking screaming my name so loud everyone hears her.

I pop the locks on the truck, practically tossing her in the backseat. “Pants off, princess. Now,” I snap, hopping in behind her. I slam the door, already reaching for the fly of my slacks.

Her eyes are wide in the light trickling in from the streetlight…but she doesn’t tell me no. She squirms around, kicking her way free of her pants and panties as I drag my cock out, working my fist up and down my length.

“Climb up and ride me, Sutton. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“No.” She bats my hand away from my cock, replacing it with hers. Her breath is a wild pant as she stretches out, her lips straining toward my cock. “Not until you’re begging this time.”

“Fuck!” I growl, slamming my hand against the door as she takes me all the way to the back of her throat, moaning around me. My other hand flies to the back of her head, holding her there.

She chokes on my cock, and still, she moans. She squirms.

I let up slightly, allowing her to breathe. She looks up at me, her eyes feral with need.

“You look beautiful choking on my cock, Sutton,” I murmur, tugging the silky strands of her hair. “Those pretty lips stretch so wide for me.”

She whimpers, licking all around the head, before she plunges down again.

She wrecks me with that mouth, leaving me growling and cursing beneath her, trying like hell not to come down her perfect throat.

What she can’t fit in her mouth, she takes in hand, stroking up as she plunges down, until every inch is engulfed by her.

“Christ, baby,” I rasp, my hand tangled in her hair. “That feels so fucking good.”