Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (13 page)

A million different responses pounded across the surface of my sex addled brain. I was fingering myself and thinking about Tyce's football hardened body, the Latin words tattooed on his right pec that I couldn't read. I was imagining him going down on me, putting his tongue where my fingers currently were, tasting me and bringing me to the brink of orgasm before he entered me with his thick, hard cock.

'I want you to hold me.'
I typed that up before I could even register what I was writing. I promptly deleted it and came up with something a lot less mood killing.
Where did that come from?
I wondered as I sent this instead:
'I want to taste your cock.'

It was a wild thing to say, but I'd always been a little wild. I could drag myself to college on a scholarship, rent a room in a sterile gray apartment, study computer science, but I'd always be me, the girl who set things on fire and made friends with boys like Tyce Winship.

My next message was a video, same angle as the pictures, a collage of sound and movement that brought a gasp ripping from my throat.
Oh my God, Tyce. What are you doing?
But I watched the video with wide eyes, moving my fingers back to my clit and rubbing the swollen flesh with vigor.

Tyce pumped his cock with a firm grip, the camera shaking in his other hand with the rapid motions of his body. Beads of sweat rolled over those abs, catching in the grooves between muscles, making him look like he was all oiled up.
This is for me?
I wondered as I watched, completely enraptured.
Because of me?
Groans slipped from Tyce's lips, crackling against the speaker as he moaned and squeezed and coaxed an orgasm from his cock. When he came all over the black comforter situated above him, the phone collapsed to his hard belly and I could hear him taking several breaths. When he picked it up, he pointed it at his sleepy, sex mussed face.

“Hey,”
Tyce whispered in a husky voice drenched in male satisfaction. His blue eyes were shuttered and dark, more like a restless sea and less like a sun drenched lake. That signature full lower lip of his was twisted to the side in a gentle smirk. I had no idea how to interpret that.
“That was all for you,”
he continued, his voice already shifting from satisfied to sexual, desperate, wanting.
“Because I can't stop thinking about you, Teagan.”

I felt my breath catch as the video ended, and I promptly restarted it.

I watched Tyce pleasure himself over and over again, working my body up until an orgasm came shuddering through me, purple lightning flickers of pleasure shattering my brain. I groaned, turning my head and biting my pillow as my back arched and I hit record on my phone. Panting, I collapsed back into into my crisp white sheets and quickly hit send, not bothering to even find out what I'd filmed.

'Goddamn it, Teagan. I'm coming over there.'

I panicked then, my brain wiped clean with the orgasm, giving me a crystal clear moment of unclouded thoughts. Tyce couldn't come over here. What would happen? We'd screw and he'd spring away on his fancy Ducks themed Nikes? I'd have to wait until his next game to see him on TV? And then what? How was this going to end? Not well was my guess. I'd lived my whole life with a shaky story, too many plot arcs, too many bad guys. I needed something that I knew was going to have a happy ending.

This wasn't it.

'You can't come here, Tyce,'
I sent back, wondering exactly how drunk he was, if he'd even remember this in the morning. I mean, the proof would be in the pudding so to speak. He'd have evidence of this forever on his phone, but that wouldn't matter if he was missing the memories.

'Why not?'
That text was followed immediately by another video. It was Tyce's staring back at me, lids half-shuttered, mouth half-open in a pleading almost-kiss.

“I want to fuck you, Teagan,”
he said, his voice groggy and alcohol laden. Or maybe that was sex slurring his words? Desire?
“I can't stop thinking about how good you felt pressed up against that tree. You were so tight, Tea. Hot and wet and tight. I can't focus at practice anymore. You're always in my head.”

I pursed my lips against another rush of hormones. What he was saying sounded great to my body, not so much to my heart. I lost my virginity that night, got slapped in the face with a harsh dose of reality, the real truth that Tyce Winship was not the same boy I'd grown up with. I almost turned my phone off, but I was afraid he'd come over anyway and make a scene.

I turned the camera on my face.

“You can't come over, Tyce. I'm sorry. If you can't figure out why that is, then it's even more reason for me to say no.” I sent that and waited with tense anticipation for him to respond.

'Why do you hate me?'
he asked, surprising me.

“I can't do this like … this,” I said aloud, leaving my phone on the bed and heading into the bathroom. I washed my hands vigorously in cold water, trying to scrub the brand-new memory from my brain. When I tiptoed back to my room, I grabbed my old gray wife beater and pulled it on before sitting cross legged on the bed.

I had three more texts from Tyce.

'I really wanted to talk to you that day, Tea. You shouldn't have locked me out.'

'I needed to tell you some stuff, about why I left and everything.'

'What happened to Venus?'

I stared at the series of texts, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

'I don't hate you.'

Send.

'You hurt me, Tyce. I wasn't ready to talk yet.'

Send.

'I'd still like to know why you left.'

Send.

'Can we have coffee or something tomorrow?'

A whole five minutes passed before he responded, and I started to wonder if he'd fallen asleep.

'I have morning practice, but how about we meet at four? I can pick you up. I'll borrow Kai's car.'
The thought of seeing him after tonight, going out for a mocha or something, that sounded horrible. But it needed to be done. We really did need to talk things out. Despite his coldness towards me, if there was a way to recapture even a spark of the friendship we'd once had, I'd love to have it back.

'Okay, Tyce. Goodnight.'

'Goodnight.'

I set my phone down next to me and stood up, heading to the balcony doors and stepping outside. It was cold enough to give me goose bumps, harden my nipples into painful points. It was late out, but there were always stray straggling college students. I probably should put some pants on.

Instead, I turned my face up to the moon and closed my eyes.

Emotions tumbled inside of me like clothes in a dryer. I could reach in a dozen different times and come up with a dozen different answers on how I felt about what just happened. None of them would match.

I stood up and ran my hands down my face. My heart was both glowing and broken, a neon sign of aching feelings and burning desire. I was used to that when it came to Tyce. What I wasn't used to was him giving me an in at the same time he was desperately trying to snatch an out. He wanted me, but he didn't. He needed to talk, but he didn't. Things were so much simpler when he'd treated me like an asexual sidekick.

I sighed.

I just spent an hour sexting my childhood best friend turned star quarterback.

How much weirder could things get?

The answer was:
a whole hell of a lot.

I woke up with a serious hangover, and a weird feeling in my stomach. Unlike my headache, I knew that had nothing to do with the booze and everything to do with Teagan. I rolled over and snatched my phone off the nightstand, ignoring the flurry of new texts I'd already received today. There was only one person I was checking on and she hadn't sent anything since last night.

'Okay, Tyce. Goodnight.'

I sat up and looked over at Kai's rumpled bed. He was still asleep, sprawled out naked on his comforter with his dick lying flaccid against his thigh. There was a girl sleeping next to him, her head on his chest. She was a redhead like Teagan, and looking at her, I felt pissed the fuck off. Kai was gunning on bringing Tea back here and doing this, laying like this, with her. Lucky him he didn't. I would've fucking killed him.

I sat up and turned the volume down on my phone, so I could watch Teagan's video again. Her mouth was open wide, her eyes closed. I could see the pleasure in the slackened features of her face, the complete abandon.
Fuck.
What the hell was I thinking last night? I started the whole sexting thing with her, sending those stupid ass pictures, pictures that could get my ass in serious trouble. The local media was always sniffing around, waiting for a Duck to screw up so they could report about it, tell the whole world what big dicks all athletes were.

Now, a girl I'd fucked over and pissed off had several pictures of my dick, videos of me jerking off. If she wanted to, she could sell those. Maybe it wouldn't ruin my career, but it could definitely scramble things up.

I watched her video again, scrolled up and stared at her breasts. They were creamy and full, obviously soft to the touch with hard pink nipples that just begged for my mouth to cover them. My morning wood morphed into a painful ache that I reached down to take care of.

“Hey, you have a roommate, remember?” Kai laughed, acting like I hadn't had to wake up to him fucking his new friend over the bed about two hours after I finished with Teagan. He was absolutely loving having a roommate. Growing up a privileged single child, Kai was desperate for attention. From me, from girls, from Coach. From anyone, really. And with the administration desperate to prove to the world that their athletes weren't
that
spoiled,
that
overprivileged, we'd been put in the student dorms with everyone else. Kai had immediately requested me as his roomie. He was better than Mason, I guess.

“Like that matters to you,” I said, putting my phone down and giving him a look. “You run around with your dick flopping in my face, like it's some sort of gift from god.”

“I think it's a gift,” the girl next to Kai volunteered and he laughed, his big mouth opening wide as he chuckled like some Norse god or something. All big and blonde with his mouth full of square white teeth. He pulled the girl into his arms and they started kissing again.

“We have practice, asshole,” I snapped as I stood up with a raging hard-on and Teagan's pictures burning a hole in my pocket. I hit Kai with my pillow and then dragged a shirt over my head. Practice first, Teagan second.

And that was why she couldn't be mine. She needed—deserved—to be somebody's number one.

“Where are you running off to?” Kai asked me after practice, right after I stole his car keys. “No, wait. Let me guess, it's that girl again.”

“She has a name, dickhead,” I said as I smacked my gum and gave him a feral look. It was my
don't screw with me right now look
. Kai had learned it well over the years.
My friendship with Kai is as old as my abandonment of Teagan.
But I didn't abandon her. I saved her. I saved us both. I had to tell her that, how I would've been a mechanic and she would've been a mom and how that town would've trapped us both. Our love would've decayed and melted into hatred, just like my parents' had.

I took a deep breath as Kai shook his head and started gelling up his hair again. With another game coming up tomorrow, I doubted he was going out to party again. He probably had a date.

“Do whatever you want,” he said with a shrug of his big shoulders. “Just don't forget we have an actual game tomorrow. It's that thing you used to care about. You know, football.”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” I growled at him, keeping a surge of violence in check by hitting my fist against the wall. The keys dug into my palm as I squeezed them tight. “I've been killing it in practice. And I don't see the NFL sniffing around your asshole, so step off.”

“Whoa, overreaction much, Winship? Jesus. I was just reminding you to keep your head in the game, okay? I've seen a lot of the guys get caught up in girls. Just keep your nose clean.”