Winning Pass - A Football Romance (11 page)

N
othing beats the warm
, wet tightness of Paige’s pussy. That’s the only thing I can think about when I look up at her as she rides me nice and slowly, grinding her hips hard against me. The way her soft, pale skin flushes pink across her chest, shoulders, and face suggests she’s close. We might have been fucking since that amazing blowjob in her office a couple of weeks ago, but I’m nowhere near done with her.

She rolls her hips, causing her tits to bounce in my hands. I pinch her rosy nipples to a peak, rubbing my thumbs over her sensitive flesh and smiling when Paige closes her eyes. She’s squeezing her heat around me, enveloping me inside her each time she slides up and back on my cock. And you can bet she’s taking her sweet time, too.

Her hands hold on tightly to the headboard as I hold her left hip firmly in place with my hand and thrust up inside her. I need to fuck her good and hard to be fully satisfied. Part of me wants to switch to fucking her from behind so I can get a couple of good smacks in, but it’s such a shame not to have the view of her perfect breasts jiggling around from all the movement. Plus, I’m not exactly capable at the moment.

Paige smiles down at me, a drunken look in her eyes telling me she’s all mine. I fucking love when she looks at me that way. Her hands sneakily trail down my abdomen until she’s touching her own self, rubbing small circles around her clit.

“Oh no, honey. I’m not done with you just yet.” In the quickest move I’ve made since the injury, I slide down the bed underneath Paige until she’s straddling my face.

“Fuck!” she cries out when I have the first taste of her, darting my tongue between her open folds and licking at her hot center. She’s so delicious in her own way that I’m finding it difficult to keep away from her pussy.

It makes me think of one of last week’s sessions when I had Paige carefully straddle the head rest on one of her massage tables. The cut-out hole was perfect for giving me direct open access to her. I’m not sure which one of us enjoyed me eating her out in such a creative way more—me or her.

I find her aching spot, swirling the tip of my tongue around it just like she likes it. Her legs shake around my face, and before I get the chance to do anything else, Paige lets out a long moan, humping my mouth as she comes, leaving me to lick up all the sweet wet mess we’ve made. It only takes her a moment to recover, and she swivels around and scoots up my body, facing away from me and sinking down onto my cock.

My eyes roll back in my head. I’m pretty sure I’ll never get used to how good this feels.

Paige begins to ride me full-stop, her beautiful round ass bouncing up and down on me, taking me in full hilt every time. I love watching my thick cock disappear between her legs—it really gets me going.

“Oh God, Elijah,” she whimpers. “Your cock feels so good.”

“Yeah? You like it when I fill your pussy with all this cock? Can you take it all, honey?”

She moans in reply, and I smile. She confessed to me the other night through a text how much it turns her on when I talk dirty to her. Now I’m whispering how I want to bend her over and pull her underwear down so I can fuck her right in her office or touch her through the crotch of her scrubs any moment I can. She’s created a monster in me, I swear.

“I can take it,” she pants. “I want all of you—give me all of it.” So I fuck her harder, faster, pounding my dick inside her as much as I can, given the angle and my still screwed-up shoulder. But I won’t stop. I can’t.

--

T
he sex is downright heaven
, but the lying around in bed part is pretty cool in its own way, too. Paige has just fallen asleep with her soft red hair hanging up and over the pillows. Usually, I’m out like a light with her, but I’m thinking about things today. Like how much of a good mood I’ve been in lately, and how the relaxation I’ve been getting fuels it. Everything has been so radically different since I’ve been back in North Carolina, almost like I’ve been wearing a pair of those rose-colored shades or something.

I have Paige to thank for it all, because without her, I would probably be my usual drunkard asshole self, lying around my house and moping over not being able to play this season. Hell, I’ve been moping here and there in my hotel room, even with Paige and her magic hands. It’s still a hard reality to accept.

And this time of year, I really am a huge jerk to everyone around me. It’s been that way ever since mom died fifteen years ago, and though I never really felt like I had to apologize for it, I’m finding myself wanting to.

I trace that constellation of freckles on Paige’s shoulder and accidentally wake her up, her opening one eye at a time at me before yawning.

“How long have I been out?” she asks me lazily, scrunching up her face and turning away from the sun that’s pouring in through the blinds in her bedroom.

“Not that long. At least, I don’t think so.”

She eyes me up and down. “Have you been watching me sleep, creeper?”

I roll carefully back and stare straight up at the ceiling, covering my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing. It’s moments like these when Paige whips out something so random and funny at the same time that really make up my favorite time spent with her.

“You make it sound like I’m some old perv or something,” I reply.

“If the shoe fits. Anyway, now that I’m awake, I kind of want to ask you something.”

You know that moment when you can almost feel the quicksand moving too fast underneath your feet?

“Only kind of? As in you could be okay with not asking me?”

“I’m just going to go with it then. What are we doing?”

And there it is. Paige has turned into the quicksand, and I am slowly losing my traction. “What are we doing right now? Because it looks like we’re just lying here in bed.” Don’t make me answer this. Please, don’t make me answer this.

I can tell by the way she goes rigid that she’s getting tired of my playing games. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Elijah. What is this thing that’s going on between us?”

I could keep going with the retorts and just piss her off, but I don’t feel like doing that any more. Besides, I think she’s plenty earned the answer, even though I don’t feel like giving it. “I think we are making each other happy and very horny at the same time. And really, that’s all the best anyone can ask for, right?”

I feel like it’s a perfectly acceptable answer, but the flitter of disappointment across Paige’s face tells me otherwise. If she were any other woman, it wouldn’t even bother me, but she’s not. She’s Paige, and I can’t stand the thought of making her unhappy in any capacity. God, I sound completely whipped.

“Hey,” I say as I nudge her gently. “Do you want to go do something fun with me tonight?”

It’s obvious I’m just trying to quickly change the subject, but even still, Paige goes with it. As you can tell, I’m not quite there with answering any kind of relationship defining questions, but I think she can tell I’m trying here.

“What do you have in mind?”

I roll over onto my good shoulder, facing her again. “There’s that movie we were both wanting to see. That weird comedy, right? Is that old ice cream shop across from the movie theater still open?”

It’s something of a tradition of ours, even though it’s been so damn long since we’ve gone that I almost completely forgot about it. Paige and I used to sneak into the latest show we could find without getting caught, usually the 5 o’clock showing, and afterward, I would take some of my money from mowing yards, and we would share a banana split. Come to think of it, that’s probably the last time I’ve had a banana split.

Paige stares straight up at the ceiling, contemplating my idea. “Okay. But only on one condition.”

I raise a brow at her. “What’s the condition?”

She slowly turns her head to me, and a sexy grin cuts across her face. “We go sit in the very back, just like we’ve always wanted to.”

“Oh yeah? Any reason?”

Her hand creeps across my lower abdomen until she’s a mere inch away from my stirring length. “You’ve got a pretty good imagination. You figure it out.”

–

W
hile Paige is
in the bathroom getting ready to go, I sit there and fumble around my phone in her small living room. It’s actually not that small, but since she has about five bookcases surrounding different parts of the room, they easily eat up half the space. Not that I’m surprised or anything—Paige has always been a huge bookworm, which for me, has been a blessing in disguise.

I bet she would love that one room of my house back in Texas. But this way of thinking only gets me thinking about the obstacles that lie ahead, mainly, my going back to Texas without Paige. It’s not exactly a secret, but neither one of us has wanted to bring it up. And it’s only going to get that much harder as time passes between us.

So all I can do is just focus on the present and treat it like the crazy miracle it is.

I
f there is
a song that sums up the soundtrack of my life right now, I’d have to go with one of my favorites, “Overture,” by Mozart. It’s the big bangs in the beginning followed by the sweet and soft movements before even more lively flutes that remind me of how everything has been going for me lately. Things might have begun oddly and jarring, but I’m enjoying the fun part while it lasts.

Which is exactly why Stacey groans at me as soon as I walk into the office with a chipper smile on my face. I pleasantly stick out my tongue at her, just like the mature adult I am, and flip my hair over my shoulder. I’m not about to let my older sister ruin the moment for me.

When I get a really good look at her, I notice that for once in her life, Stacey looks a little disheveled. Really, that’s putting it mildly. There are dark circles under her eyes, which are puffier than usual, making it look as though she hasn’t gotten sleep for a week. I raise my eyebrow at her, but she’s too busy flipping through a magazine to notice me.

It’s a Friday, and it’s mine and Elijah’s day off from each other, so I don’t have anyone coming in for another hour, which lets me catch up on some paperwork. One thing they never tell you when you become a physical therapist is how much fucking paperwork is involved with the whole thing. As soon as I have money, I am totally getting a completely paper-free system going here, I swear to God.

Stacey shuffles into the break room with me, yawning. Okay, something is definitely going on with her.

As if she’s read my mind, Stacey pouts at me. “Before you say anything, no, I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep. Why? I haven’t the slightest clue. I’m just so—” she begins, rolling her eyes at herself, “tired. All the time. It’s like I turned into a zombie or something. I just don’t seem to have any energy any more.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulder, giving her a small smile to help boost her spirits. “Might I suggest vitamins? You might need some more iron or even vitamin D. Fake tanning doesn’t count, you know.”

I make myself a cup of coffee, blowing over the hot steam rising from the mug and sitting down to relax for a few minutes before starting up on the paperwork. My phone dings, a cute little noise that always reminds me of Elijah because, let’s face it, he’s really the only one who texts me anyway. I smile to myself as I pick it up, biting my lip when I see the kissy-face emoji. Yes, apparently, I’m
that
girl.

Stacey settles in next to me, glaring at me from over her cup of super-sweet coffee. When I glance up at her and meet her crabby look with a sweet smile, she rolls her eyes at me, grumbling to herself.

“Ugh, you guys make me so sick,” she mutters, perfecting the fake vomiting noise in the back of her throat.

But I don’t let her get to me because I know she’s probably just feeling like shit, and okay, we might be a little bit gross to other people. But it’s so hard to keep my mind off Elijah, and well, my hands too. I’m allowed to be happy too, right?

“I mean, God, are you even going to at least explain how good the sex is with him? How does that even work with his screwed up shoulder and whatnot? Or is it all about him giving you head? Lucky gal. I can’t even remember the last time—”

I immediately slam my cup of coffee down, dark liquid spilling over the sides as I cover up my ears. “Um, gross, Stacey! What the hell? I do not want to hear about your and Rafael’s sex life, believe it or not.”

Now that she sees just how easily she’s getting under my skin, the older sister’s smile returns on her face. “Aw, did I hurt your little virgin ears? Give me the details, girl! Jesus, I’ll take anything at this point. My own sex life is so dull and predictable . . .”

I feel bad for her, don’t get me wrong. No one wants to be in that kind of situation, as cliché as it sounds for a married couple. And maybe I’m just being too wrapped up in my own life to inquire about hers, but honestly, Stacey can get pretty graphic with her retelling of any kind of sex-related incident with her husband. And I’d much rather steer clear of it if possible.

“Oh stop. You know I’m not going to tell you anything, so why bother?”

Stacey pouts but turns back to her coffee, picking up one of the newer magazines from the middle of the table and violently flipping through it. Sometimes, she can be such a drama queen.

My phone dings again, and this time, it’s a line of text so dirty that it sends a shock straight to my pussy when it scrolls across my screen. I quickly snatch it up just in case Stacey’s prying eyes happen to glance over, trying hard not to imagine exactly what Elijah is describing for me here.

“What’s the deal with you and Elijah anyway? I mean, are you guys actually dating, boyfriend and girlfriend? Or are you just fuck buddies? Because the way it seems, it could go either way.”

I absolutely abhor the term
fuck buddies
. The fact that it’s all it dwindles down to between two people is one thing, and that is their prerogative. However, it’s not that way between Elijah and me, and even though I still haven’t quite gotten a term for what we are yet, it’s definitely not that one. Not answering my sister is also not an option.

“I don’t really know. We’re happy together, and that’s pretty much where we’re at right now.” Hopefully, that will suffice and she won’t start digging further into my reply.

Stacey looks me over, but I’m neutral, not wanting to give her any kind of inclination as to how I feel about that. She already reads too much into everything I do as it is. So when she returns to the magazine, I silently say a little prayer.

“Paige? Could you do me a favor and grab me the creamer?”

It’s almost time for me to start working on the paperwork anyway, so I get up without a reply, already knowing there’s no point in arguing with her about it. If Stacey wants to drink pure sugar in the mornings to get her through the day, then that’s her own business. But as soon as I do, my phone dings again, and this time, Stacey being the ridiculously nosy bitch she can be, she grabs my phone before I get the chance to.

Her eyes turn into huge, dark blue saucers on her perfectly proportioned face. “Oh. My. God.”

I have no idea what kind of filth Elijah has just sent me, but I know that if it gets a surprise out of her, it’s probably pretty damn raunchy. What can I say? The man is talented.

Stacey flips the phone around to me, and I feel all the blood drain from my face when I realize it’s not a text but a picture. And it’s not just any picture. It’s a well-lit dick pic. Obviously, Elijah was trying to get the right angle, because man, he looks absolutely mouthwatering.

Except now, my sister has just seen his dick, and I’m ready to scream. “Fuck! Give me the goddamn phone, Stacey! Why do you have to be such a pain in the ass sometimes?”

She just laughs, yanking the phone out of reach. But I have a couple of inches on her—not to mention quite a few pounds—and I manage to wrangle it out of her bony hand.

“Holy shit, P. How are you even
walking
if y’all have been having sex practically every day now?”

I whip my head back around at her. “And how, exactly, do you know that?”

She shrugs, a shit-eating grin still on her face. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist. As soon as he comes in every day, it’s like you light up, and okay, come on, you don’t shut the door with any of your other clients. And one time, well, let’s just say you weren’t exactly being very quiet. You’re lucky no one else was in the lobby.”

I cover my face, the blood rushing to my head quickly and sounding loudly in my ears. “Oh my God, you heard us? Ugh, I’ve been such an idiot!” I don’t want to admit it, but tears start welling up in my eyes because this is exactly what I was hoping to avoid. I want to maintain the top professional service that I’m trying to become well-known for. But I can’t exactly do that if I’m fucking one of my clients, now can I?

I stifle the sob that desperately tries to escape my throat, but it’s no use. Stacey shakes my shoulder gently, and I look up at her, the tears spilling out over my lids.

“Hey, it’s really not a big deal. You don’t have anything to be ashamed about, and it’s not like you aren’t two consenting adults here. I’m just teasing you, you know that.”

My phone dings, but I don’t dare to pick it up, already humiliated enough.

“Okay, it looks like your man’s trying to make up for some of the dirtiness. I’m just telling you this as your big sis, but . . . be careful. This one seems to have all the right words.”

I peek at my phone between my fingers, blurrily reading the little bit that I can.

Sorry, I couldn’t resist. But all dick pics and dirty talk aside, I can’t wait to see you 2morrow. Sunday is going 2 be really shitty 4 me, so maybe the next day we can stay in and watch some new episodes of that show you like on Netflix. I’ll bring the ice cream.

This is the thing that’s throwing me off worse than the crazy, steamy sex. It’s the moments like this one, where Elijah reminds me so damn much of his former self. The machoism and the gruffness melts away a little, and I get that special look under the layers that make up the sexy specimen that is Elijah. No one else is granted that kind of trust. Just me. And I love how that makes me feel inside.

I rest my hands on the table, and a smile starts to creep across my face. Looking back over at Stacey, I stir my coffee some more. “Yeah, he does, doesn’t he?”