Win Big: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (13 page)

BOOK: Win Big: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
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14
Samantha


H
e told you what
?” Kristy fell back on her bed, laughing hysterically.

I folded my arms. “No fair, Kristy. Getting a laugh at my expense sucks.”

“Come on. Lighten up. You know what he’s trying to do, right?

“What? Get me a criminal record when I end up pleading guilty to knocking out his front teeth?”

“No, silly. The way he’s trying to get a reaction out of you.”

“I’m shocked.”

“You should be entertained, because it won’t work, not unless you want it too.”

“No I mean I’m shocked about you. I thought you’d want me to file a sexual harassment complaint against him by now.”

“Come on. He’s harmless.”

“Harmless? Seriously?”

Kristy sat up, turning ominously serious. “It’s Austin you should be worried about. Evan just wants to get in your pants, but I guarantee you he won’t make the first move. That’s not his style, trust me. He’s got enough women lining up to get a night or two with him. Austin, on the other hand, is cray cray. He has the potential to go all John Hinkley Jr. on you one day.”

“Sorry, who?

“You remember that guy. He’s famous. Well, infamous, rather. He stalked Jodie Foster when she was at some Ivy League college during the eighties, and then he shot President Reagan to prove his love for her or something.”

“Huh? No, I don’t remember that guy. You and I were born in the nineties. I’m not a history buff like you, Kristy.”

“Yeah, well maybe you should read up on it, because you’re acting like Austin isn’t escalating, when he clearly is…” She paused and got up to look out our dorm room window. “See what you have Evan and his friends resorting to? A hunky bodyguard keeping watch outside.” She shook her head. “Makes me wonder… If Austin is John Hinkley Jr. and you’re his Jodie Foster, who’s his Ronald Reagan?”

“God. I don’t have the brain capacity for this hypothetical game of
fantasy stalker dream cast
right now, hun.”

“I just hope Austin doesn’t go off the deep end…and the longer you wait to do something, the worse it can get.”

“Kind of like my virginity, right?” I stretched out in my bed. “Maybe I should have slept with someone and gotten it over with.”

“Yeah, like who? Austin?”

“God no. One of the guys I dated in high school.”

“No no no. Not Harry Mandic. He was a real tool.” I looked over at her. She was serious for all of half a second before collapsing on her bed with laughter. “He was a tool! Get it?”

“Very funny, Kristy.”

“John Whang and Willie Jackanoff weren’t that much better!” she giggled.

I frowned. “You’re not being very nice today.”

“I’m not the one who went out with those guys, Sam.”

“This is hopeless.”

Kristy saw how despondent I was, and toned it down. “It’s not your fault, hun. You just have to step back and see the humor in it…except for Austin. We all thought he had such high potential in junior year, and he turned out to be a possessive, overly jealous, rich snot. No wonder you’re still a virgin. A guy like that can completely turn any woman off of dating.”

“So now I’m a loser, right?”

“No, you know I don’t think that.”

“That’s how I feel. Like something’s wrong with me. It’s not like I’m waiting for marriage, or being overly romantic and waiting for the one, or abstaining for religious reasons.”

“Look at you…you’re hot. You can sleep with anyone you want, whenever you’re ready.”

I shrugged. “Maybe, but now it’s some kind of commodity. That’s a lot of pressure on me, picking the guy I’ll finally take the plunge with.”

“Then get it over with…” She raised her eyebrows. “Maybe with Evan?

“What the hell? Wait, weren’t you the one to tell me to be careful with him because he’s freaky and promiscuous? Not to mention his porn fixation.”

“So I said that. Sue me. Can’t a girl change her mind? He’s been nice to you where it matters…breaking up that argument with Austin that day, sending the cute bodyguard guy downstairs to make sure nothing happens to you…think about it. Standing up to Austin is a big deal around here.”

“I can’t believe you right now, Kristy.”

“What?”

“You’ve forgotten that he talks without thinking, and the end result it usually something tactless and unkind.”

“All jocks have that asshole factor. It’s in their DNA.”

“Is that speaking from experience? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you aren’t saying much about the one you’re tutoring.”

She giggled. “You mean Mo? He’s a big teddy bear.”

“A teddy bear you’re into?”

“I’m not sure. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. Seriously though, you know why else you should consider Evan?”

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Too bad, I’m telling you anyway. You should, because for all your whining and nit-picking about him, it’s obvious to me that you’re into him. I can’t remember the last time we talked about any guy the way we’ve been doing since you started working with Evan. I wish you could see how your eyes light up when you talk about him. You did kiss him, after all.”

“That was different. I was overwhelmed…”

“Three times? Go on, tell me I’m wrong.”

I rolled onto my back in bed and stared up at the ceiling, unsure of how to refute what she proposed. I couldn’t. Evan wasn’t the only one all hot and bothered about the idea of sleeping with me. I was party to the aching too, feeding off of the way he got turned on by me, wet and wanting after all the times I stole glances at his manhood, and how it strained against the cotton in his shorts half the time. He was huge. I couldn’t deny that something stirred inside me when I imagined what it would feel like to have him inside me.

But then I thought, no way. Not when he had been with God knows how many girls before me. I didn’t want to be just a number or a notch in his headboard.

“You think about it. I have to get dressed.”

I turned to my side. “Off to a feminist rally? If you are, try not to get on a podium today.”

She smiled and stepped over to her desk, picking up her purse. “I’m going to my parents’ for dinner. Want to come with?”

“No, I’ve got a few readings to catch up on.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Next time.”

“All right. Well, I’m off. You be safe, okay?”

“I will.”

She looked out the window again. “Evan’s friend left his mafia bodyguard downstairs again. You should be okay.”

“I’ll be fine. Have a nice dinner, hun.”

After Kristy left, I decided to have a long shower. I needed a reset. My hair needed a deep conditioning treatment too, to get some more of the chlorine out of it after a week in the pool with Evan. I got my things together, changing into a robe to use the showers down the hall. Tightening the belt of my robe, I slipped on my flip flops and left the room.

Some of the girls on the floor were all dressed up, ready for a night out as I passed them walking down the hall in my robe and flip flops. That seven-night-a-week party mode had never been my college experience. My nose was always in the books, which easily explained why I hadn’t slept with anyone yet. I thought about it, really seriously this time as I stepped inside the shower stall and closed the curtain. This was crazy. I needed to let it go or I’d end up fixated and unable to get any work done tonight.

Taking off my robe, I hung it on the hook outside the stall. I turned the handle, yelping a little when the stream of water started off ice cold and quickly warmed up. I lathered shampoo into my hair and took my time rinsing it out, closing my eyes as the suds ran down my body. My muscles loosened up too. It felt so good I was tempted to forget about the deep conditioning treatment. That extra step required me to move out from under the stream of water for a few minutes so the product could do its work. Grumbling at the idea, I did it anyway.

While I waited, my conversation with Kristy was top of mind. Me and Evan? It was absurd.

Laughable.

Outrageous.

Foolish.

Harebrained and bordering on insane.

So why did the idea cause wicked heat to spread out from my core and made my body shudder as though I was touching myself? I looked down at my busy hands, one at my breast and one between my legs, smiling shamelessly. I
was
touching myself, conjuring images of Evan stroking my breasts, tasting me, running his massive hands down my body and making me moan and beg for more. The throbbing between my legs started up again, progressing from a dull ache to a burning need that could only be sated by letting him own me completely.

Closing my eyes, I bit my lip, holding back a moan as I pinched my nipples and flicked them back and forth with my fingertips while my other hand slid slick fingers over my swollen nub. I leaned against the shower wall, craving a release from the idea of his tongue lapping at my folds, looking up at me, teasing me, watching as he drove me to heights of pleasure. I pictured him picking me up and lowering me to his bed, his hands around my wrists, pinning me down as he plunged in and out of me and growled out what he would do to make me scream until I came for him.

My muscles tightened and strained under my fingers, closing in on that one perfect moment of explosion. When I came, I stiffened and bit down on my forearm to stifle the soft whimper, which distorted and echoed around the stall and all the tile in our large, communal bathroom. Stroking myself gently, I eased myself down from the heights of self-indulgent bliss.

Me and Evan?

Maybe it wasn’t so outrageous at all.

15
Evan

T
wo weeks down
, five weeks to the combine.

I was still experiencing some tightness in my upper leg, but more and more, I was beginning to feel like my old self again. This week was crucial. We were about to get back to strength training with weights and some of the circuit routines on the football field. Here on the field was where I needed to strike the delicate balance of giving it my all while not re-injuring my groin muscle.

Push hard yet hold something back.

I was no good at holding back, except if I didn’t do exactly that right now, my career could be down the toilet before it got off the ground. I had to do it. I didn’t have another choice. Maybe Samantha could help. It was also my second week back at classes, but that was minor. Two easy electives that I could ace with minimal effort.

Easy peasy.

After the only lecture I had for the day, I went for a drive off campus to pick up a few things and ended up doing something I’d never done before. I wasn’t sure how I found this little place, but when I did, I went for it, went with my gut, then returned to campus with a smile on my face.

Samantha was waiting outside when I made it back home. We weren’t supposed to meet for another hour. The first thought was whether that rich bastard was after her again. I stopped the car in the middle of the street and jumped out.

“Hey Samantha. What’s going on?” I asked. “Did something happen with that guy again?”

“No. Nothing like that. I came by for the PT table and the other supplies I left here…I meant to get those last week as we’ll be meeting at the center for the rest of the time.”

“Sure. Give me a second and I’ll let you in.”

I found a parking spot halfway up the block and walked back to her. “Did you knock? There’s always people going in and out of here. The front door’s definitely unlocked. You could have gotten into my room from inside.”

She followed me up to the porch, waiting as I unlocked the side door. “No, I literally got here a minute before you drove up.”

“Cool. There,” I told her after opening the door. “I’ll help you get the treatment table packed up.”

“Thanks.”

I worked on folding the table while she gathered up all the bolsters and wedges, then I remembered. “Hey, wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.” Hurrying back to my car, I got the things I’d picked up and brought them inside.

“What do you think?”

“Think of what?”

I showed her. I had picked up two over-the-shoulder PT house call bags for her while I was out. One was teal and the other was red. “I figured you could use something like this…you know, instead of that plastic container from the center. So… you like?”

Samantha was genuinely surprised. “Wow…” She got up and came over to look at them. “These are great. Thanks. Where’d you get them?”

“A medical supply store off the Acadian Thruway downtown.”

“I’m a bit shocked.”

“I see that.” I smiled.

“Thank you, Evan,” she said with some hesitation. “Now I see why you asked about my favorite colors.”

“Yeah, I’m sneaky that way.” I held them out toward her. “Take a look inside. It has two zippered compartments and a bunch of Velcro pockets. Inside there’s some see-through pouches and stuff to keep things organized. It’s pretty cool…if you’re into that.”

She took the red bag and opened a few sections. “Very nice.”

“Go on. You may as well use them now for all the stuff you came to pick up…except the PT table, of course.”

“Great idea.” She was taken aback for sure. “This was…surprisingly thoughtful.”

“Well, it beats flowers…not that I wouldn’t go to that extent. Coming from me, you’d probably think they were a gag gift that squirts water or something.”

“Probably.” She looked over at me. “Don’t be upset, but what made you think of getting me anything at all?”

“I’m not too sure. I saw the place as I drove by, and thought of you. Those bags were near the front of the store, in about seven or eight different colors. So I bought these.”

“Hmmm… You’re a mystery, you know that?”

“I pride myself on keeping people guessing.”

“I’m beginning to see that.”

Samantha swallowed hard. I could almost hear the lump in her throat. When I looked over at her again, her eyes were roaming down my body. I should have been used to this by now. Women did that all the time when they saw me. The difference with Samantha was I enjoyed it a lot more, knowing I could get that kind of reaction from her.

She cleared her throat and looked away when she realized I’d seen her. “I’ll get these packed up in my car. We can meet over at the center at two.”

“Samantha, wait.”

I hit the pause button on everything I’d planned about keeping my distance. Stepping over to her, I took the bags out of her hand and set it down on the floor. She licked her lips, appearing to hold her breath when I leaned in close. Lifting a hand, I gently slid my thumb over the contours of her full, breathless lips.

“Tell me to stop right now and I will, but I can’t ignore what I’m seeing in your eyes right now.”

“I…” she started, but nothing else came out.

I took her hand in mine, and Samantha’s gaze move down to where our hands joined before she squeezed it back. She was shaking a little when our eyes locked.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“I…I know. I’m… not.”

I raised her hand to my lips, kissing her open palm, then I listened to her tiny sighs of pleasure as I kissed her fingers one by one. My lips traced down to her wrist and her eyes fluttered closed, mouth slightly open and breathing in short gasps. I placed both her hands on my shoulder, then I closed in on her neck, sweeping my lips up her jawline, taking in the faint scent of her perfume. I nibbled at her ear lobe for a second before whispering, “I want you, Samantha, and I know you want me. Whenever you’re ready to take this further, you just tell me. I’ll be as gentle, and slow, and attentive as you need me to be. That’s a promise.”

She let out a long, labored exhale through her sweet, pouty, virgin lips, tipping her head back to let me explore her neck and collarbone. Her skin pulsated beneath my lips as I kissed her and grazed my teeth along her skin. Samantha’s hands slid down my chest and around my waist, slowly up my back and came to rest at my biceps, as though she wanted to know what every inch of me felt like. Backing up to my bed, I pulled away from her neck and sat at the edge, positioning her to stand between my legs. I looked up at her. Without breaking eye contact, I slipped my fingers under the hem of her shirt, caressing her sides. Her hands made it to the back of my head, fingers weaving up into my hair for something to hold on to as I passed the line of her bra until the pads of my thumbs were circling over her hardened nipples.

Her eyes closed as her head fell back, stilling her mind long enough to surrender her body to my touch. I peeled one of her lacy bra cups down past her nipple, and licked my lips, letting my head float forward to take it in my mouth. Samantha hissed from the contact, dragging in a long, slow breath. I was sure she whimpered my name out of her sultry, fuckable mouth. My cock was already hard and throbbing, eager to be inside her, but hearing my name from her lips made my balls tighten. Two weeks was too long to go without sex, but my dick had already decided it wanted Samantha, and would wait until she was ready.

Samantha arched her back. She gripped my hair at the feel of my tongue flicking over her pink nipples. I lifted a hand up her back, taking a fistful of her lush brown hair, tugging it gently while I sucked and teased her breasts one after the other. She was ready to go. I could have taken her now, but didn’t want to rush. I was now on board with the idea of my own design—making sure her first time was slow and sexy and orgasmic, full of pleasure and whatever else she wanted.

I had no idea where this selfless bent emerged from inside my head, but I didn’t question it. After a little while, I lowered my hands to her hips, gently caressing her ass and upper thighs, stroking just enough to excite her.

I moved one hand up to the back of her head again, taking a handful of her thick, dark hair and pulling her head closer to mine. She sighed out a breath as I took her mouth.

Then I slowly pulled back and looked at her. “I’ll stop now,” I whispered. “And whenever you’re ready for more, you know where to find me.” Letting go of her hair, I got to my feet and picked up the items she’d packed. Sure, I was hard as a rock, but I could wait. “Ready to go?”

“Huh?” She swayed a little on her feet, widening her eyes when she turned to face me, intoxicated as though she’d just come off a three-day bender and was trying to get her bearings.

“We’ve got a two-hour session on the football field,” I told her. “I don’t want to miss it.”

“Oh. Uh, okay. Sure, let’s go.” She turned and got the rest of her things, still appearing a little shaky when she stumbled out from the room, down the porch steps and over to her car.

We each drove separately to the parking lot beside the athletic center, and Samantha disappeared inside for a few minutes. When she met me on the field, her face and hairline looked suspiciously damp. I wondered how many times she had to splash her face to get over what we did. God knows I needed a long cold shower after that.

* * *

A
fter the intense
workout on the field, followed by some targeted wright training, I was beat. We had thirty minutes left, which she said was for muscle relaxation in one of the private treatment rooms. It wasn’t going to be easy. I needed to keep my mutherfucking hands to my motherfucking self or I’d end up devouring Samantha whole.

She was probably expecting me to continue what we’d started back at the frat house, but I was playing with fire. I didn’t do middle ground. I was either all in or all out, so those few minutes of ‘let’s try out second base’ only compounded my urge to go further. How I ended up stopping myself was a mystery to me, and a blessing for Samantha’s chastity. Maybe if she’d tell me she was ready to take the next step. Somehow I doubted she would come out and talk about it.

Samantha walked into the private room in a tight tank top and micro athletic shorts that she hadn’t been wearing earlier. Whether or not she did it consciously to get my attention, I couldn’t say. If she did, it damn well worked. I was now privy to a sweet view of her cleavage, perky nipples imprinted through the fabric, slender but toned arms and legs, and a tiny waist.

God help me.

“All ready?” she asked, keeping her eyes on just my face.

I sat on the edge of the treatment table and slowly lifted my legs up. “Sure. What are we doing next?”

“Wait. I need you down on these floor mats in the corner over there. I’ll show you how to do some extra stretches at home, and massage yourself after each workout.” She turned to pick up a selection of massage rollers, resistance bands and stretching straps on a shelf mounted to the wall.

I watched. Her ass was so firm and perfect in those shorts, I wanted to do way more than watch right now. She brought a chair beside the mats and placed the items on it, starting with a resistance band to show me how to regain flexibility in my thigh and hamstring muscles, inner thighs and glutes. She demonstrated by anchoring a loop of the bands around each of my feet, then passed me the ends to shorten or lengthen as needed before each exercise. I paid attention, sort of. From my spot on the floor her miles and miles of legs came into view, and my eyes got lost wandering up and down her smooth, toned thighs.

“Here’s the workout tracking sheet for these stretching exercises.”

Good.

There was a tracking sheet.

Perfect, because I wouldn’t remember how many glute bridges, prone leg curls, front squats, scissor kicks or whatever I needed to do when my mind could only process what was waiting for me at the top of her inner thighs.

“I need to you keep a log for the next two weeks, so we can monitor how your body responds to the routine outside of our sessions when you work out alone. After you’ve gone through each set three times, use this heating pad for fifteen minutes. You’ll move on to use these four massage rollers and bars at the end. I’ll show you how. So stretching exercises, heating pad, then massage. Just remember not to push yourself too hard, and if you start to feel pain above level five, stop and track that as well.”

She did a run-through of each exercise on my legs, then she asked if I had any questions.

“It’s pretty clear cut. I’ll get used to it…whatever it takes.”

“I know you’ll give it your all. Try not to aggravate the area by overextending, especially for the adductor and abductor stretches.”

“I will,” I said absently, not realizing she’d caught me staring down her tank top to her cleavage. I didn’t bother hiding it, or looking away. She also noticed the fact that my dick was pitching a tent inside my gym shorts.

She bit her lip, hurriedly repacking the bands and bars. “One of those bags you got me would come in handy to take these back to your place. I’ll get it from my car and swap these out.”

“Hey. I got those bags for you. I’ll take these home in a crate or whatever. That’s no problem.”

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