SPIKED (A Sports Romance) (23 page)

BOOK: SPIKED (A Sports Romance)
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“Please what?” he asked, kissing his way across my neck, his breath coming out as ragged as my own.

“I need you,” I said, again. I wanted to hate him for doing this, for making me writhe below him, begging for his cock, but I couldn’t.

Because I wanted it too much.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, his cheek close to mine as he teased my ear between his teeth. Fire roared through me.

“Yes, I want you. Now.”

He hesitated, and my mind cleared just enough to say more.

“I’m on the pill. Please, just fuck me.”

His groan was deep and guttural, and for a moment, I thought he might resist. I thought he might pull back, leave me there panting on his living room floor, wet and wanting.

Leave me wondering what it would be like to have him inside me—just like he’d done years before when we’d come so close but never gone all the way together.

Instead, he leaned on an elbow, just enough to push his boxers to the floor. But he was still in that crisp, pressed white button up, his ass naked, his cock erect and pressing against me.

“Are you sure?” he asked, taking himself in one hand. He waited, leaning back, teasing it back and forth on my slit. Waiting for permission.

Waiting for the green light to plunge inside me, in the way I’d dreamt of for years.

“Yes,” I said, finally yanking one hand free of his grasp. My hand trailed down the muscular curve of his back, until I could cup his ass and pull him against me. “I want you,” I said.

He repositioned himself over me, his cock at my wet, slick entrance. I curled my legs around his hips, as if to hold him, as if to be sure he wouldn’t retreat.

I needn’t have worried. He pushed in with one deep, strong thrust, and then stilled.

I gasped out, a wave of pleasure flooding through me as he filled me. He was so thick and full I wasn’t sure I could take any more, but as he withdrew, the aching emptiness was too much. I pulled him back against me with my legs.

He thrust forward, and then again and again, and each time I was pressed into the carpet, pleasure spiked. Built. He grunted. “God, you feel good,” he said, his breathing getting ragged as he pulled back and thrust forward again.

My sight was dotted with stars, and it was all I could do to gasp for breath.

I’d spent years imagining what it would be like to be fucked by this man, and everything I’d imagined, everything I’d wanted, couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

He grabbed my hips and yanked me upwards, so that I was rolled back on my shoulders and my hips were at a new angle as he slid my ankles over his shoulder.

As he thrust into me again, I gasped. His cock hit even deeper, now, spiking a wave of pleasure I didn’t know was possible.

I dropped my hands, burying them in the carpet and gripping the floor, trying to hold myself together. Trying to calm the wave threatening to crash over me.

“You feel so fucking good,” he said, his voice hardly more than a grunt as he continued to plunge in and out, his skin flushed, his eyes an ever-deepening pool of molten heat.

He finally let go my other hand, leaning forward. My ankles were still looked over his shoulders, so it nearly bent me in half, but somehow felt even better, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh god,” he said, his mouth turning desperate against my neck, biting and sucking and swirling, his mouth and his rhythm growing faster, more aggressive.

I raked my fingers across his back as a wave of heat pulsed and grew. My cries got louder, my moans growing desperate.

“I’m going to come,” he said, his hips bucking wildly against me as one hand buried into my hair, twisting around his fist.

I found my wave as he bucked hard against me. His long, thick cock throbbed inside me just as I gasped out, my own pleasure washing over me.

It lasted for what seemed like an eternity, a throbbing, crashing pleasure as he collapsed on me, sweaty and hot.

Silence won out, the only sounds that of my pulse throbbing in my ears, and his steady, quiet breathing. I closed my eyes, wanting to sink into the carpet, so blissful I could almost fall asleep. I wasn’t sure how long we lay like that, me so out of focus I’d practically forgotten my own name.

Finally, he shifted, his cock slipping out of me. And like that I was awake again, mourning the loss of him.

“My god that was good,” he murmured against my neck, kissing me softly.

“Mmhmmm,” I said, still too relaxed to want to move.

He lay against me, wrapping me up against him as he reached for a blanket behind him, half-slung across the couch. He slid it over my body, wrapping me up against him.

“We’re going to need to move, eventually,” he said, but his voice was so relaxed, so totally at peace, I didn’t even shift an inch.

I was laying on my back, with his leg slung over mine. His arm crossed my body, and his still erect cock pressed into my hip.

“We’ll move after round two,” I finally said.

His cock throbbed against me in response.

5

D
awn light filtered
through the trees outside of Landon’s enormous bedroom window, and I burrowed further into the red silk sheets. It couldn’t be dawn. Not yet.

Landon’s arm lay heavy across my waist, snaking upward so his hand brushed one breast. I tried to ignore the prick of arousal as I realized it, tried not to squirm my ass up against him.

His breath was hot on my neck, his skin warm against my backside. We hadn’t dressed last night. I’m not even sure when we fell asleep. At some point we’d scooped our clothing off the floor and ascended to the second floor. I’d wrapped a soft cashmere blanket around my shoulders and it had trailed after me like a royal robe.

Something jingled in the background, and it took me several long moments to realize it was his phone, on the nightstand. His ring tone was surprisingly elegant, something classical.

He groaned softly under his breath, and then turned away from me, and I mourned the loss of his warmth immediately.

His fingers slid across his nightstand, and then his phone was in his hand, pressed up against his ear.

“Yes?”

His voice was crisp, clear, nothing like the man of last night. For a moment, I could picture him in a boardroom commanding a dozen men to do his bidding.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

He slid out of bed, bending forward to reach for something on the ground. The muscles in his back rippled, and I wanted to reach out and touch him again, ask him to come back to me.

But he wasn’t the same now. He was the Landon I didn’t know. He stood, his ass bare, so damn perfect. I couldn’t help but stare until he slid his boxers up to his hips. He walked to the adjacent bathroom when I caught his eye and he hesitated, realizing I was awake.

“Good morning,” he said, walking back to the bed. He leaned over, kneeling on the edge of the mattress as he kissed me on the cheek. It was too sweet and soft compared to the possessive man I’d gone to bed with the night before.

I wanted to throw the blankets over my head.

“Have to go so soon?” I asked, as he turned away again.

“Yes. I’m needed at Prestige. Help yourself to breakfast.”

He stepped away. And left me hollowed out inside, realizing how easy it was—how practiced it seemed—for him to just leave me there in his bed.

“Wait. How am I supposed to get home?”

“Take one of my other cars. The keys are hanging outside the garage door, down the hall from the kitchen. I’ll send my assistant to pick it up from you later at the mall. She can bring you some of the new supplies for the stand around noon.”

I couldn’t say anything else before he disappeared into his bathroom, and the shower clicked on.

Somehow, everything had changed between us.

The man who’d climbed inside me, enveloped me, made me feel safer and more loved than anything I could remember—that man was gone. And left in his place was this new man, hell-bent on world domination and seeming to have forgotten that last night had ever happened.

It reminded me of how quickly Landon could change. Three years ago we’d shared a similar, though less physically intimate night together—and then he’d left me without so much as a phone call, an explanation.

He’d left me with nothing.

Why did I think last night would have changed anything? He was getting ready to kick me out of his life for the second time.

My stomach contracted painfully.

The thought of what had happened three years ago was enough to propel me to my feet. I found my frayed jean shorts, slipping them on quickly. I wasn’t sure where my destroyed set of panties were. Hopefully not with a pile of others, like some kind of trophy.

I had a sinking feeling that he’d done this kind of thing a time or two. Of course I knew that, and yet I’d stupidly and conveniently forgotten his womanizing tendencies.

Because I wanted him, and that was more important to me than my self-respect, apparently.

I quickly pulled on my bra, then my shirt.

I was leaving. Now. I wasn’t going to use one of his cars or do anything else to further lower myself. He couldn’t even be bothered to drive me himself. Landon was dumping me already?

Well, I would beat him to the punch this time.

I was out of the bedroom and heading out of his house before the shower had even stopped running.

* * *

I
caught
a cab back to the mall to get my car, and then I remembered that I’d forgotten to properly lock up the kiosk. Even though I wasn’t intending to continue working for Landon anymore, I knew that I should still make sure the kiosk was properly locked up before leaving it for the day.

However, I wasn’t going to unload or organize any of the materials that had been shipped over for the new center.

If Landon wanted this crap organized, he could do it himself. And hopefully be missing me the whole time, although I knew that would never happen.

He hadn’t missed me these last three years, I doubt he’d miss me after one misspent night together.

As I was finishing locking up the kiosk and getting ready to get into my own car and drive home, someone called my name.

“Taryn?” The voice came from behind me, and I turned around to find a familiar face… but one that didn’t belong in the mall.

“Professor Valdez,” I said, surprise evident. “If you’re looking for some St. Johns’ Wart, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

Professor Valdez didn’t smile at my lame attempt at a joke.

My cheeks warmed, and I tried not to cringe. I couldn’t ignore the way he looked at me, probably thinking,
my, how far you’ve fallen
.

Professor Valdez had been my favorite teacher. Inspiring, passionate, and smarter than anyone I’d ever met. He may have been ruthless with his homework, but I had always loved working hard and seeing that he appreciated my efforts.

The professor gave me a probing look. “When your father said I’d find you here, I thought he might’ve been mistaken.”

I swallowed. He hadn’t meant it as an insult, but it wormed its way under my skin just the same. “Well, here I am.”

“We’ve missed you in class,” he said, twisting a key-laden ring in his hands. Professor Valdez oversaw the entire chemistry department at the University of Washington. Those keys might as well have been to the pearly white gates, for all they meant to me. They were for every lab I’d ever been in. Every classroom that had sparked my passions. “I thought you’d be back by now,” he added, his voice taking on a new note of concern.

I nodded, pursing my lips as I struggled to maintain eye contact. “I thought so too.”

“And?”

I stared down at the ground, at the swirls in the hardwood. “I don’t know. It was like once I got out of the swing of things, I just… didn’t know how to go back. It felt like I’d missed so much and was so behind.”

“It’s not too late,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft, compassionate. He ruled his classroom with an iron fist, his expectations higher than any teacher I’d ever worked with. And yet there he was, at the mall, encouraging me to return despite my dropping the ball.

I cleared my throat, feeling like my face was about to burst into flames. This was almost worse than Landon seeing me there. “I’m hoping to return this fall.”

“Does that mean you don’t have any plans for this summer?”

Now that I was quitting this job, I certainly didn’t. I shrugged, feeling ashamed in so many ways, I didn’t even know how to respond. I was lost and my professor knew it all too well. I could see it in his eyes.

He went on. “The thing is, Miss James, the internship is open.”

I froze. “The biotech internship? But the applications were due months ago. Last year I turned mine in around February.”

He tilted his head. “Normally you’d be correct. Unfortunately, another student was awarded the position… but he just broke his femur in a car accident. They need someone else immediately and you’re top of the list.”

I shook my head, backing up and bumping into the cart. “Surely there are active students who qualify.”

“None who completed biochemistry with a 4.0, and passed the screening process.” His grin widened as he presented me with my dreams on a silver platter.

My heart soared, racing with possibilities. “But I didn’t even apply.”

“You did last year. And even though you withdrew your application when you left school, they’d already conducted the initial screening. You were going to be selected, but you walked away before knowing it.”

I couldn’t decide if this news broke my heart or made me feel lighter than air. I would’ve been awarded one of those most competitive internships in the country. Only one student from each state was given the chance to participate. Professor Valdez prided himself on the fact that that student would come from UW.

From his classrooms.

A lump formed in my throat, choking me with emotion. Pride and regret warred together in my stomach. “You sure there’s no one else available to take the spot?”

Someone who deserves it more? I nearly added.

“Of those who qualify, no. If you don’t take it, we won’t have a representative on the team from UW.”

“Oh,” I said, my head spinning. How had everything changed in twenty-four hours? “When does it start?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes,” he said, amusement sparking as he flicked a glance at the cart. “Unless you have a better opportunity occupying your time.”

I blushed. “But isn’t the internship in Dallas?”

He nodded. “Of course, it’s out of town and lasts six weeks, but the opportunity is priceless for someone who wants to do serious work in this industry.”

“It’s just very sudden. I didn’t see this coming.”

Thoughts barreled through at a mile a minute. I’d wanted this internship a year ago. Desperately. A week before the selection was announced, my mother took a turn for the worse, and I had to withdraw.

And now it had just fallen into my lap. A second chance. Mine for the taking.

I pursed my lips, sliding them back and forth as I considered it. “I’m not sure I’m ready,” I said, thinking not just of school—but of leaving my father, my brother…and Landon.

I pushed him out of my mind. Landon had already made his decision—that was clear enough in how he’d treated me this morning.

“Of course you’re ready,” my professor insisted. “You were my most promising student. Think of it as a way to get back into the swing of things. You’ll be immersed in science for six weeks, and then come back and finish your junior year.”

It sounded good.

Really, really good.

But somehow, despite all of it, my heart felt like it was breaking as I responded.

“Okay,” I said, hesitantly. “Yes. Let’s do it.”

He beamed. “This will be good for you.” He started to turn away and then paused, looking back at me. “Don’t disappoint me.”

And then he spun on the heel of his polished leather shoes, leaving me with my empty kiosk.

* * *

T
elling Matt
and my father about the internship had been both easier and more difficult than I’d anticipated.

Easier because both of them seemed genuinely happy for me—especially my father. Matt’s enthusiasm was muted, but then again, that was Matt in a nutshell. At least, that was how Matt seemed to be lately. Muted. Distracted.

But both of them understood the tremendous opportunity this internship offered me, and how I couldn’t afford to pass up any more chances.

“You’ve given up enough for this family, and for me,” my father had whispered in my ear as he held me tightly.

The hard part came immediately afterwards, as I lay in my bedroom, alone, crying. I was crying for everything that had happened these last three years.

Losing Landon.

Losing Mom.

Losing my shot at college and meaningful work and the sense that I could make a new life for myself.

Seeing my father crumble as our family struggled to survive the fallout of my mother’s illness and passing.

It all seemed to hit me in a wave, a crushing wave of grief. Especially now that I was going away to Dallas, which meant I would be losing Landon all over again.

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