Page 36 of Safe (King’s Heart #1)
Grant
A scout is here tonight.
I can get in anywhere. I have the grades and the trust fund for it. But I know what this means for Landon.
All day at school he was a jittery mess. With each class I picked him up from, he got more and more nervous. Barely speaking. Zoning out while we walked.
To be honest, he has nothing to worry about. He’s an amazing player, despite how much I wanted him to believe differently when he first got here.
On the way to fourth period, his anxiety got so bad that I had to pull him into another closet to snap him out of it, giving him a small pep talk before getting down on my knees and sucking that anxiety right out of his dick. He did seem more calm after that.
But now that the game is about to start, I see how stiff he is as we all dress out—even from across the locker room.
Richardson goes to walk past me, but I snatch him by the back of his jersey and pull him toward me. “Go tell Moore that he’s been doing great and is gonna impress the scout tonight,” I growl quietly.
His face twists in confusion. “What? Why do I?—”
I push him, making him stumble in Landon’s direction. “Fucking do it!” I bark as quietly as I can.
He holds his hands out to me in a placating gesture. “Alright. Alright. Damn. I’ll do it.”
I watch him walk over, clapping Landon on his bare back once he gets there and talking closely to his face.
I didn’t tell him to fucking touch him.
My skin heats as Richardson does what I asked and more, keeping his hand on his back as Landon smiles at him and nods, saying a quick “Thanks” in return.
Richardson nods back before— what the fuck? —rubbing Landon’s back and walking away.
Rubbing? Really?
“How does he not know that you’re in love with him?”
I look at Javi who is smirking at me as he situates his pads on his chest.
“Fuck off, Javi.”
“I’m serious.” He stalls his dressing to turn to me, leaning an arm against the lockers. “All you do is stare and bark at anyone who gets too close to him. You fucking walk him to every one of his classes.”
I shrug like it’s no big deal. Like everyone does shit like that for their teammates. “So?”
He scoffs and turns away from me, pulling his jersey over his head. “Okay, fine. If you don’t love him then can I take a crack at him? He’s got those pouty fucking lips. I’d love to see how they look wrapped around my?—”
I slam him up against the locker, lifting him while snarling in his face. “I’ll fucking castrate you and watch you bleed out.”
He smiles. “You’re proving my point.”
“Hey, you guys good?” someone yells out.
Javi looks beyond me as I drop him back to the ground. “Yep. Cap is just being cranky. All good.”
I hear some snickers, but when I turn around no one seems to be laughing or looking in our direction. Except Landon, who tilts his head in a questioning stare.
I shake my head at him, telling him it’s nothing, right before Coach Davis comes out to give us a pre-game speech. He tells us what we already know, that there’s a scout out there tonight, but to keep playing like we have been the past few weeks.
Landon stares at the ground the whole time, nervously tapping his foot.
We break, starting to jog out of the locker room and onto the field. I purposely lag so that I’m even with Landon. I reach my hand out, making it look like it’s the normal cadence of my jog, to brush my fingers against his.
Such a small movement. But the effects are big, shooting warmth through me that makes my insides glow.
I hope it does the same for him.
I’ve been playing my heart out. I want this for him, and if I play well, he looks good too.
His performance has been immaculate. Catching every pass thrown his way. Easily outmaneuvering the other team trying to block him.
There’s no way whatever school is sitting in the stands won’t want him. He’s been amazing tonight.
But… there’s been this little annoyance tickling at my brain the entire game.
I’ve been pretty good at ignoring it, but now that it’s almost halftime, I’m itching to get off this field and out of its earshot. Find something to punch.
The annoyance makes itself known again. “You’re doing great, Moore!”
Jesus fucking Christ. Get a life, Stephanie, or whatever the fuck your name is. He doesn’t text you. He’s not giving you the time of day. Shouldn’t you move on? He’s mine.
I mean—not mine. But definitely not hers.
The longer I sit there while defense plays, the more doubt squirms into my mind.
Maybe he does text her.
Maybe he does give her the time of day.
Maybe he’s into her and I don’t see it.
Fuck. I think I’m gonna puke.
When the whistle sounds for halftime, I’m off the bench and bolting for the locker room, finding an aisle of lockers away from where the team usually congregates.
My breath comes out of me too fast. It makes me dizzy. I sway on my feet, leaning against the lockers and trying to focus on my breathing.
Landon peeks around the corner, hair mussed and damp from his helmet, an elated smile on his face that instantly disappears when he notices the state I’m in.
He gently puts his helmet on the ground as he walks toward me. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”
“No. Nothing,” I say, trying to keep the slight wobble out of my voice. “You’re playing great tonight. You’re definitely getting an offer after this.”
He shakes his head at me. “No. I don’t want to talk about that right now. Tell me.”
His voice commands me, and when I look into those warm eyes, it comes right out. “Are you talking to the cheerleader?”
God. It sounds so pathetic coming out of my mouth.
He smiles, taking another step toward me. “Jealous?”
I huff and go to leave, but he pushes me back against the locker and descends his lips on mine. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, owning the space, making me think that maybe he’s not mine. I’m just his. He owns me and he knows it in the way he dominates the kiss.
He pulls back, only far enough so we’re breathing right into each other’s mouths.
“I’m not talking to her. I only want to kiss you, baby.
” His lips seal over mine again. “Touch you.” He licks the sweat from my jaw.
“Suck you.” He latches his mouth onto my neck, sucking hard enough that a little whimper escapes my lips. “Fuck you.”
All my mind can focus on is that he called me “baby,” and I fucking love it.
“Me too.”
He smiles widely at that as he pulls at my tight football pants, snaking his hand inside and grabbing onto my hard cock. “Good. Because my pet is only for me, right?”
My eyes widen. I can hear our teammates talking and fucking around a few rows behind us, but I can’t bring myself to make him stop.
I nod my head at him, my legs trembling as he starts stroking me in my pants.
“No. Say it,” he murmurs, giving my cock an almost painful squeeze.
“I’m o-only for y-you,” I manage to stammer out.
“Yes,” he sighs as he jacks me faster, leaning in for a sloppy kiss that tastes like sweat and musk. My dick grows painfully hard, his sexy as fuck voice and the fact that we could get caught any second making it impossible to last any longer.
“Now, come all over my hand so I can lick it off. I want your taste in my mouth when we win this fucking game.”
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp too loudly, right as my orgasm crests, my body going numb from the ecstasy.
“Shh,” he commands, slapping his hand over my mouth as he milks me dry, wringing out my cock, catching as much as he can on his hand with the difficult angle.
I lean heavily on the lockers as the postorgasmic glow sets in.
Just like he promised, he carefully extracts his hand from my pants, admiring my glistening release coating his fingers, and then runs his tongue over every inch, eyes fluttering and a rumble vibrating in his chest.
Once he’s cleaned it all up, he places a chaste kiss on my dumbfounded lips.
“Where the hell are Moore and Caldwell?!” Coach’s irritated voice echoes from somewhere in the locker room.
We both widen our eyes and sputter a laugh, turning and starting to run toward where the rest of the team is huddled.
I look over at his smiling face as we run. How bright it is. How it consumes me. How it takes away some of the shadows living inside of me.
And that’s when I know.
Javi’s right.
And I’m completely fucked.