Kicked (6 page)

The knock on my door shocked me from sleep. It was dark outside, and I was still wearing a towel.
What time is it?
Then I remembered. I’d taken a shower and laid on my bed to cool, but fell asleep. The kicking practice had taken more out of me than I’d thought.

The knock came again.

“Hang on!” My roommate was out. Maybe she’d forgotten her key again.

I rose and stretched, my damp hair hanging down my back. Pulling my towel tighter around myself, I opened the door.

“Shit!” I slammed it closed.

“Ow.” Trent’s voice filtered through the wood.

“Oh my God. I’m sorry. Hang on. Just a minute, okay?” I turned and dashed to our small closet. Tossing my towel on the floor, I donned some underwear, a tank, and athletic shorts, then returned to the door. I opened it and saw Trent again, his hands full of take-out and drinks. “Come in.”

I backed up, and he walked in, glancing around the room before going to my desk and laying the food out.

He gingerly wiggled his nose back and forth.

“Oh no.” I walked to him and stared up at his perfect nose. “I didn’t break it, did I?”

“No.” He smiled, his eyes warming as he looked down at me. “You gave it your all, though, and I can respect that.”

I backed up until my legs hit my bed, and I sat in a whoosh. My knees felt like jelly, though I blamed my lack of food. It wasn’t Trent’s presence
in my room
or anything.

I cocked my head at him. “Wait, how did you get in here? This is a girls-only dorm.”

“I know Brandy at the front desk.”

I couldn’t stop the frown that tugged at the edges of my mouth. “I’m sure you do.”

“No, not like that.” He shook his head, then bobbled what looked like a container of hummus. He set it on the desk and turned around. “I’m going about this all wrong.” He dropped down, sitting on his haunches like he had on the field earlier. It put him almost at eye level with me. “I know her from a class. I came in, hoping to bribe whoever was at the desk so that I could come up and see you, but Brandy was there, so it all worked out.”

Why did my heart lighten at his explanation? I shouldn’t have cared who he was with. It was none of my business. Any chance we had together was long since passed. My stomach grumbled, and I winced with embarrassment.

He glanced to my middle. “Exactly. I figured you might have been too tired to make it to the caf, so I brought you some stuff.” He rose and began separating out the food. “Here.” He tossed me a blue energy drink.

I caught it, practically ripped the lid off, and chugged it. My gaze traveled from Trent’s dark hair, down the thin material of his t-shirt to the waistband of his jeans, and stopped on the perfect expanse of ass beneath his belt.
Holy shit
.

When the last of the drink was gone, I wiped my mouth on the hem of my purple tank top and tossed the empty bottle into the small wastebasket.

“Another.” He held the bottle out behind him.

I took it and drank more slowly this time. “How did you know this was my dorm?”

He froze for a split second, then turned around and handed me a paper plate laden with food. “I just guessed from the way you and Landon were heading after practice.” He looked away as I took the overloaded plate.

“Okay.” I wanted to investigate further, but the smell of freshly grilled chicken with Mediterranean seasoning almost turned me into a ravenous wolf. I set the plate on my lap and dug in with the plastic ware. Chicken, salad, rice, and hummus beckoned.

“Where did you get this?” I asked around a mouthful of food.

He pulled out the chair from my desk and turned it around to face me. He ate with me, though not half as rudely. “There’s a little deli on the south side of town. Pita Stop. Best hummus in the city.”

“You aren’t kidding.” My manners were sorely lacking, but Trent didn’t seem to mind.

We ate for a while, both of us chewing instead of making conversation. When I got to the point where I couldn’t eat another bite, I cleaned up for both of us before plopping back down onto my bed.

I met his eyes and realized he’d been watching my every move. Warmth seeped into my cheeks. “Thanks for the food.”

“You’re welcome.”

Silence fell, and it truly dawned on me that I was alone, in my room, with Trent Carrington. The “oh shit” bells began ringing, but it was too late. I couldn’t just kick him out after he fed me.

“So, are you ready for the Tigers on Saturday?”

He smirked, that one little move that had every girl in school at his feet. I pushed my shoulders back. Every girl in school
but me
.

“I think we can handle them as long as we have a great kicker.” He rubbed a hand along his square jaw, the stubble there making a
whisk
sound against his palm. What would it feel like against me? I let my gaze slide down the length of him and then back up to his face.

He’d matured in the two years since we’d spent time together. He’d been big then, but now he was NFL-sized. And he’d filled out, his face more angular somehow, and his voice a notch deeper. There were other differences too—a certain reserved nature about him that he didn’t have before. At least he seemed reserved on the surface. Underneath, I could sense him simmering, thinking, watching. My nipples tingled and hardened at the thought of him simmering for me. I crossed my arms over my chest to hide it.

He licked his lips, the silence doubling between us like dough in a warm bowl. I needed to remember the Trent who’d abandoned me, the one who’d never called, never even acknowledged my existence. I wanted to ask him, demand he tell me why he’d acted so horribly. But I wouldn’t lower myself to bring it up. My pride wouldn’t allow it. I deserved an explanation without having to ask for it.

I shook myself inwardly. This man before me seemed different, but deep down, he was the same. We both knew the score. Our history wasn’t erased by a few kicking lessons and some food.

He rubbed his palms down his jeans. “I should go.”      

“Yes, you should.” I said, more sharply than I’d intended. I rose from the bed to follow him.

He took a step toward the door, then stopped and turned.

We were standing close, too close. I held my breath and stared up at him.
He is the same. Don’t fall for it.
His eyebrows rose slightly, but then his eyes darkened, and I could sense he wanted more from me. Things were sliding out of control in the space of a moment, and that look of his made me want more, too.

He leaned toward me. “Fuck it.” In a smooth movement, he put his palm to my cheek and claimed me in a kiss that took my breath away.

He wrapped one arm around my back and crushed me to his hard chest. My eyes fluttered closed as his firm lips took my mouth. A giddy sensation, like the first tinge of alcohol in your system, rushed through me. He moved his hand into my hair and tugged gently, craning my neck back. He licked along my lips, sending a chain reaction of heat skating down my body all the way to my pussy.

I put my hands on his chest to push him away, but my fingers clutched at him. He felt so right, but I knew everything about this was wrong. He was going to use me and throw me away. Again.

I opened my mouth to protest. Bad idea. He ran his tongue along mine and let out a masculine groan that curled my toes. My body melted for him, and my mind was soon to follow. Had I ever been kissed before Trent Carrington? His tongue caressed mine, and I answered, tasting him and venturing into his mouth as he clutched me to him. I gave in and wrapped my arms around his neck, savoring the feel of him against me, the past be damned.

We kissed until my breath belonged to him. I’d never been so hot, my panties sticking to me, and my skin oversensitive to every point of pressure from his touch. I ran my fingers through his soft hair, the strands like silk. His five-o’clock shadow scraped against the tender skin around my mouth, but I didn’t care. I wanted him, just like I’d wanted him two years ago. But this time my want had matured into something greater. I didn’t just want him. I
needed
him. My body craved his touch, and the thought of him on top of me had me moaning into his mouth.

He broke the kiss and traced a scorching path to my neck. His lips moved over me like lava, burning me and thrilling me all at once. I opened my eyes and took a full breath as he nipped at my collar bone and moved one hand to my ass.

I can’t see you anymore. I’m just not interested.
His voice, two years younger, came out of nowhere like a blindside punch. I thought that specific memory was long gone, but it was there, haunting me.

I froze and pulled away. “I can’t.”

His eyes were wild, and I’d managed to give his hair the “freshly fucked” look that male models would kill for.

“What? Why?” He didn’t release me, his eyes flickering to my lips.

I ignored the deep ache he set off inside me, the skittering sensation of pleasure rushing through every nerve in my body, and the hungry way he looked at me. “Please.”

His grip on me softened, and he gave me some space. “I’m sorry. I got caught up—”

“You can’t touch me like this. You can’t kiss me… I-I—you should go.” My breathy voice shook, because I wanted his hands on me again.

“Right. Sorry.” He turned and walked toward the door, tension written in the stark lines of his shoulders. “I’ll see you tomorrow. The practice field.”

“Three o’clock.” I didn’t walk him out, just stood as he swung the door open and stepped into the hall.

He turned to me. Under his stare, I felt naked, as if his kiss had exposed the me I kept hidden from men like him.

“Three o’clock. See you then. Sorry again.” His tone spoke of regret, but his eyes still had that predatory glimmer that turned my insides to mush.

It’s an act. He’ll just get what he wants, and then he’ll walk away.
I steeled my spine and walked over to him. “Good night.” With a firm touch, I shut the door.

His footsteps retreated down the hall.

The boy who’d stolen my heart and then trampled on it two years ago was gone. In his place, there was a man who kissed like the devil and made me stupid with just a look. I bounced my forehead on the door, trying to knock some sense into my brain since my heart sure wasn’t listening.

He’s an asshole. A complete and utter asshole.

I backed away and sank onto my bed. I couldn’t trust a man like Trent with my heart. Not again. Opening up would only give him the chance to hurt me. I took a deep, shaking breath and let it out.

I would keep our practices professional, win the scholarship, and never let my guard down again.

CHAPTER EIGHT

T
RENT

M
Y HANDS ALREADY ITCHED
to hold her again. I would. It was only a matter of time. Leaning against the wall of my shower, I let the cool water cascade down my body. She was all I could see when I closed my eyes, her touch the only thing I could feel.

‘Obsession’ would have been putting it lightly. Cordy had ensnared me from the start. And even when I tried to free myself from the trap, there was no way out. She had me from the moment I first saw her in that speech class when she was a freshman.

She had only grown more beautiful each day since I left her. Watching her had become my favorite pastime. I knew her schedule, her friends, even her habits. I knew she only saw comedies at the movies, no horrors or tearjerkers. Her favorite ice cream was Moose Tracks. She didn’t like to shop. She snuck her school funds to her alcoholic father. I could have made a list a mile long of facts about Cordy.

I’d made a mistake, the biggest of my life, and I punished myself for it by watching her and knowing I couldn’t touch her. That was then. Now, things were different. I’d finally taken the step I feared the most just so I could get the chance to make her happy.

Getting close to her was key, and I had no scruples about making it happen. Convincing the university president to make her the third-string kicker had been easy, especially with the cloud of the sexual discrimination lawsuit lingering over the athletics program. With her on the team, I could keep watch over her, and my foolish hope was that she would see I had changed. I wasn’t the same selfish boy who left her that night. At least, I hoped I wasn’t.

I leaned back under the cool spray and tried to clear my mind. It wasn’t working. She was there with her soft skin and sultry eyes. I’d left her dorm with the stiffest hard-on of my life. The cold shower only helped marginally. I’d have to take care of it the old fashioned way.

I hit the knob, stopping the spray, and yanked my towel from the warming rack. Wrapping it around my waist, my erection problem jutted out in sharp relief against the white material.
Shit.

I walked into my bedroom, the wide windows looking out onto the city park. Collapsing onto my bed, I whipped my towel onto the wood floor and gripped my shaft.
Cordy
. There was no one else I’d thought of for the past two years. Just her, her eyes, the sinful curve of her mouth, the taste of her lips.

Tonight, she’d given me something to hope for. That kiss. I stroked up and down slowly, thinking of how she’d felt in my arms—perfect. Her soft curves had molded to me, and she’d kissed me back with more passion than I’d ever experienced.

She’d stopped us, but my imagination kept going as I lay in my bed. I closed my eyes and pictured laying her down and kissing her neck as I pushed up the hem of her tank top. Would she squirm or moan? The thought of her trapped beneath me and enjoying my every touch had my hand speeding along my cock.

I kissed her tits, sucking a nipple into my mouth and licking the hard tip until she arched her back and spread her legs. Pulling her shorts and panties off, I finally got a look at what I’d been obsessing over for years. Pink and wet, glistening for me in the low light of her dorm room lamp. I licked her sweet taste, swallowing it down and going in for more as she ran her hands through my hair.