SPIKED (A Sports Romance) (12 page)

“Oh, I know I have as many faults as anyone,” I said cheerfully. “Half the battle, though, is being aware that you’ve got them, isn’t it?”

Ms. Everett lifted her eyebrows. “Of course! Right. And we aren’t saying we wish he were with Jenna instead of you, sweetheart. We just know Jenna better, that’s all. She’s someone who understands how focused Jacob needs to be, in order to really achieve his full potential.”

I didn’t respond, but didn’t look down— didn’t even blink. It threw Ms. Everett off a bit; she rubbed her lips together, then seemed to have a sudden urge to freshen up her lipstick. She turned to the mirror and withdrew a gold tube, twisting it open as she went on. “We’re happy he’s enjoying his time in college, really, we are. We just want to make sure that nothing distracts him from his long term goals.”

“Are you worried I might be distracting him, Ms. Everett?” I asked.

She looked appalled at the suggestion. “Why, I wouldn’t know, honestly. But his reputation, and his skill, and his future…they’re quite a bit to handle, aren’t they? I can understand why it might be tempting to pull him away from all that, especially when an injury is keeping him from being his authentic self.”

“You think I don’t know the real Jacob?” I asked.

Ms. Everett applied the lipstick, then smiled at me in the mirror. “Well, honey, who can say? I suppose my point is just this: At some point, he’ll return to playing. When that happens, I hope you’ll let him return to the life he built for himself long before you entered the picture.”

“Oh,” I said. “I understand.”

“Good,” Ms. Everett said, smiling harder. “I think you really are a lovely girl, Sasha. But I become something of a mama bear with my boy!” She laughed.

“Of course,” I said. I reached for the door. “But don’t worry about Jacob. He can protect himself from all sorts of bad influences.”

Ms. Everett smiled again, but there was something cold in it. “Well. Good.”

“
Y
ou know
, Jacob, I’m beginning to think you’re brainwashing me,” I said that evening, staring out the window of Jacob’s apartment. The thud of bass from one of the other player’s rooms rattled everything on his bathroom counter, and I could see the spotlights of the various nightclubs swooping through the sky. It was dark in here though— Jacob felt the overhead lights caused him to sleep poorly, and they were rarely turned on, even if it meant leaving the room shrouded in shadow.

“Why’s that?” Jacob asked from behind me He was leaning against the little kitchenette’s counter, watching me.

“Because when I got to Harton, I didn’t give a damn about football, but now I’m looking at the stadium and it’s sort of…beautiful,” I said, motioning out the window. A handful of the stadium’s lights were on tonight so the flawlessly manicured grass could be tended to. The grounds crew walked back and forth across the field, each person a tiny speck in the stadium. Seeing so few people on the field made the space look overwhelmingly large, the huge walls of bleachers like green and gold mountainsides, the few lights turned on like suns on concrete horizons.

Jacob walked toward the window and stood beside me, watching the grounds crew work. He was silent for a moment, then said, “Playing on it feels like that. I mean, there’s that huge crowd and everyone’s screaming and there’s all those fucking vuvuzelas that people bring, but you don’t really hear any of it when you’re on the field. It’s weirdly silent in-between plays, right before the snap, and then it’s just crashing. Helmets and people and pads and then a whistle blows and it goes quiet again.”

“You really can’t hear any of the fans?” I asked.

“Nah. They’re more like white noise,” Jacob said, still staring at the grounds crew. They were marking off the design that would be painted in the center of the field for the homecoming game that weekend; the Ram was slowly coming to life as they sprayed its outline in white.

“What’s the point then?” I asked. I turned to Jacob, an eyebrow lifted. “All the screaming and face painting and whatnot? What’s the point?”

Jacob laughed. “Have you never been to a football game?”

I blinked.

“Oh my god. You’ve never been to a football game. Ever?”

“Our high school team lost all the time. No one went to their games,” I said.

Jacob shook his head in disbelief. “Thank god you didn’t tell my parents that.”

“Ha. Your parents had plenty against me anyhow,” I said quietly.

Jacob gave a sympathetic smile. “Well, you’ll come to the Clemson game, right? When I’m back on the field? Or are you going to sell the tickets again?”

I smiled. “I might. Playing hard to get worked out well for me last time.”

“You weren’t playing anything. You just
were
hard to get,” Jacob said, and reached down, putting his arms around my waist. I felt small between his arms, small like the people in the stadium looked, and it felt equally as beautiful to be so.

“Not anymore,” I said wryly. Jacob looked down at me, then reached for the hem of my dress. I lifted my arms over my head so he could lift it off me. He did so, then tossed it aside, holding my eyes hostage in his all the while. The stadium lights licked at my skin, illuminating my right side and leaving my left in shadow. There was something incredibly pleasing about being lit by the same lights that almost sixty thousand people would be cheering under soon.

Jacob lowered his arms to his sides, stepped back to study me in my lingerie— I’d never valued matching sets so much before I met him.

“You’re not hard to get anymore, no,” Jacob answered my earlier words. “But I still can’t get enough of you.”

I licked my lips eagerly, then reached behind my back to unclasp my bra. I rolled my shoulders to shimmy it off, then tossed it aside. Jacob’s eyes glittered; he reached forward and took one of my breasts in his hands, squeezing it gently, running his thumb over my nipple. I shuddered at the feeling, my eyes drifting shut.

Jacob let his hand wander down my waist, and he nudged me to turn around. He took hold of one ass cheek, gripping it so that his fingertips slid under the edge of my panties.

“You’re making me hard, Sasha,” Jacob said accusingly. He stepped forward and put an arm in front of me for support, then spanked my bottom lightly in admonishment. I moaned at the tingling feeling where his hand had struck, at the way it felt like little lightning bolts flickering through my skin.

Jacob made a pleased sound. He drew his hand back and for a moment, I thought— eagerly— he was going to spank me again. To my surprise, though, he swept me up and over his good shoulder, my legs dangling down across his chest, my head bouncing against the small of his broad back.

“Jacob—“ I started breathlessly, but then his hand came down again on my ass, harder than before, but still careful, building up, testing— he was so strong, but he knew how to reign his strength in. I groaned.

“Sasha, Sasha, Sasha,” Jacob admonished. He reached up and tugged my panties down till my bare ass was revealed, then spanked me again, rubbing the spot where he’d struck this time.

“I need you—” I started, unable to catch my breath. He moved his hand down a little, let his fingertips graze my pussy lips. I twisted, trying to push his fingers in deeper, but there was so little I could do turned over his shoulder like this.

“Calm down, calm down,” Jacob said. He walked to the bed and, just before sitting me down on the bed, slapped my ass again. Once he was on the mattress, he rolled me off his shoulder. I felt winded already, while Jacob looked confident— as per usual. I went still, eager to hear a command, eager for him to tell me how he’d take me this evening. He always had a plan, and his certainty was every bit as alluring as his body.

“You’ll let me fuck you however I want to, won’t you?” Jacob asked, corners of his mouth curving up a bit.

“Yes. Absolutely,” I said. Each time I said this, it made me more nervously excited— because he’d already done so much to me, with me, for me, in me— which meant there had to be so much more that I simply didn’t even know to fantasize about.

Jacob rose and took his clothes off, letting his erect cock spring from his pants; I licked my lips and leaned forward. Jacob obligingly guided it toward my mouth as he finished removing my shirt.

“You’re getting good at this,” Jacob said, voice guttural. He took a step forward, pushing more of his cock into my mouth. “Massage me with your tongue. Press hard, right along my shaft,” he instructed.

I did so, and felt his cock twitch with pleasure between my lips. Jacob looked down at me and smiled; he enjoyed me for a few more moments, then pulled away from me and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Come over here,” he said, and I crawled toward him. He tilted my chin up toward him. “You’re going to sit on my cock, Sasha. Would you like that?”

“Very much,” I said anxiously.

Jacob gave me a daring look. “You’re going to wrap your legs around me, and this position— I’ll go deep in you. Deeper than I have before. But I think you can take it, now.”

I nodded frantically— I needed him, I needed him now. I swung a leg over his lap and positioned myself above his ready and waiting cock. I went as slow as I could; his cock rubbed up against my clit for an instant, but Jacob shifted, and it neatly slid into my entrance.

“You’re still so fucking tight, Sasha,” Jacob said, eyes flickering with pleasure. I panted as I continued to drop myself down, his thick cock straining at my pussy. “Go on,” Jacob urged me. “Take it all.”

“I…” I wasn’t sure what I meant to say. I
can’t
? No, I could, I needed to, I wanted to— but Jacob was right about this position. I felt his cock easing past what I’d thought before was his deepest point, then continue onward. I gasped; Jacob smiled.

“There you go. Good girl,” he said. “Almost there.”

“Almost?” I panted— how had I thought he’d truly fucked me before. I shifted my hips and felt him edge deeper into me.

“I was holding out on you,” Jacob said, leaning in close so he could keep his voice low. “But you’ve got all of me now, Sasha Copeland.”

I nodded, gasping for breath; Jacob was rocking his hips back and forth, and the sensation it caused made the room feel almost unbearably hot. I pitched forward, wrapped my arms around him. Jacob moaned, then placed his hands on my back to steady me.

He stood up so quickly that I felt for a moment like I might pass out—

“No, no, keep your legs around me,” Jacob murmured into my ears. “I’ve got you.”

He did— his arms around me, my legs wrapped tight to him, his cock buried deep inside me. Jacob began to lift me up like I weighed nothing at all, sliding me on and off of his cock. I tried to help— I meant to help— but I was overwhelmed by the feeling of him, of the rays of pleasure he was uncovering with each stroke.

“Come for me,” Jacob said— demanded. “I want to feel you coming with my cock buried in your sweet little pussy.”

I bucked at his words, heat rushing through me, my clit rubbing against the bottom of his torso, his cock grinding against some deep part of me that made me feel like I may split in two. He thrust into me again, lifted me up a bit higher so when I slid back down, his body slapped hard against my entrance.

“Jacob,” I moaned, unsure how loud or quiet I was being— unsure of anything except how perfectly full he made me feel.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he ordered.

“I’m yours,” I gasped.

“You are,” he confirmed, pushing harder into me, grinding against me. The orgasm was rushing through me now, scrambling toward a climax I already knew was going to leave me gasping for breath. Jacob was an artist, though— I never came until he wanted it to happen. He knew exactly how to hold me back until I felt I might explode with need.

“Please,” I whimpered.

“You’re going to come so hard, Sasha.”

“I am. Please, Jacob, please,” I gasped, now clawing at his back, squeezing his torso so hard with my legs that I felt my muscles locking up.

Jacob’s hand slid down my back, wicking away the sweat forming there; he could cover nearly my entire ass with his palm. I thought this was all he meant to do, until suddenly, I felt his thumb pressed against that entrance. I gasped, tensed, but Jacob didn’t hesitate— I was soaked with pleasure and sweat, and his thumb slid into my ass—

I came. No, that was hardly the word for it— because Jacob had made me come plenty of times before. This time, though, with his cock so deep in me and his fingers prying at such a forbidden place, I came so hard that it felt like something in my chest might break. I cried out, long and wailing and needing, and my legs and arms went limp around him, but Jacob stayed in me, pumping, thrusting as I pulsed around him.

When I was drained and exhausted, he turned and released me gently onto the bed. Every nerve in my body felt lit up, but my brain seemed to be slow to connect— like the power of my orgasm had short circuited it. Jacob waited until my eyes blinked open, until I smiled up at him.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

“I think so,” I said faintly.

“Bend over the bed,” Jacob instructed. I nodded and, a little wobbly, got to my feet. I bent forward, and Jacob immediately pushed his cock against my clit, then let it least at my slit— down, along my pussy, up the back toward my ass. It lingered there for a moment.

“You’re still so tight,” Jacob said, pushing against me a little harder, the head of his cock threatening to enter my ass, aided by the wetness my pussy had provided. Jacob rubbed my ass cheek with a hand, squeezed it hard enough that I knew he was looking down at his cock teasing against my entrance.

“You liked having my finger in your ass, didn’t you?” Jacob said huskily.

“Yes,” I gasped as he pressed a little harder still. He wasn’t going to fuck my ass though, was he? I didn’t know anything about that, I didn’t know what it entailed, I didn’t know how it would feel, but I did know that I wanted him in me again— maybe
anywhere
in me.

Jacob leaned forward so his mouth was closer to my ear. “We’ll build up to that too, I promise,” he said lowly, then almost instantly changed position and charged into my pussy. I cried out in pleasure as he pumped into me, fucking me harder than he had before— harder than I would have been able to stand before.

* * *

I
woke up in darkness
. I’d stayed at Jacob’s often enough now to be instantly familiar with the smells, the sounds, the feel of expensive sheets beneath me. That familiarity is why I knew instantly that I’d woken up because Jacob was no longer in the bed beside me. I sat up and saw that the bathroom light was on, the door opened a tiny crack, spilling yellow light in a stripe across the floor.

I couldn’t see directly into the bathroom from this angle, but I could see a reflection in the window. Jacob was standing in front of the sink, staring at his bare chest. He lifted his right arm, put it down again. Repeat, rotate, put it down again. His bad arm— he was doing the PT exercises. Lift, rotate, down—

He flinched. I froze, even though he surely had no idea I was watching. Jacob calmly lowered his arm. Lift, rotate, down. Lift, rotate, down. I stared at Jacob’s face, waiting for another flinch, trying to figure out how the exercise only seemed to aggravate his shoulder one out of every ten rotations.