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Authors: Michelle Lynn

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BOOK: Rounding Third
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“Don’t stop,” I say, my chest heaving.

He shakes his head against my pussy, continuing to devour me. His eyes peer up to me a few times, spurring his motion. I become even more uncontrolled and unglued.

Finally, a small burst explodes within me before his hand reaches up. His thumb rolls my nipple, and my body becomes weightless, rising to new heights. I jolt a few times once I come, and he backs up, his eyes on me the entire time.

“Enough?” he asks.

“Not even close,” I say, my body already reenergizing for him.

He chuckles. “You always were hard to please.”

I sink into the water, my arms reaching around his neck. “We don’t have anything.”

“I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

My hand slides down the front of his suit, and his dick is rock hard, tenting his swimsuit.

“That’s not true. You need to take the spot on the rock.” I eye him.

His knuckles brushes along my cheek. “You don’t have to, baby.”

“Yes, I do.”

He stares at me for a while.

Our love continuing to burn deep and pure.

My hand explores down his trunks, and I stroke him. His head falls back between his shoulders, and his Adam’s apple bobs, as though he’s concentrating on anything but coming. I circle us around, and he props himself up onto the rock, wiggling his shorts down.

My eyes look for an edge for me to kneel on. Not finding one, I push up onto my forearms, and my head is completely over his dick. I look into his eyes, hoping my seductive eyes show him how bad I want him.

“You want my mouth?” I turn the tables on him.

He nods, his teeth dragging along his bottom lip.

“Say it.”

A smirk emerges on his face, and his hand reaches out to caress my cheek.

“Yes, baby. Suck my cock.”

“Love to,” I say.

I take my right hand and grip the base of his dick. Then, my tongue slides up his length before I lightly blow and then cover my whole mouth around it. Quickly, I deep-throat him as my fisted hand jerks him.

His hand winds in my wet hair, gripping the ends, the more I suck.

“Oh…Ella,” he moans, only spurring my own arousal again.

If I could maneuver somehow, I’d move my hand down and get myself off at the same time.

Five minutes later, my scalp is tingling from his hard grasp on my hair. Seeing his drowsy eyes from coming hard is enough for me to beg him to let me repeat the act. Crosby being cocky is sexy, Crosby being loving is adorable, but Crosby right after he’s come is immortal.

I prop up onto the rock, the two of us super close due to the small space.

“We need to talk, El,” he says.

I knew this time was coming. I hoped we wouldn’t have to, but of course, Crosby’s not usually one to let things go.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “It all seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Now, I sit here, less than twenty-four hours after the deal with my parents, unable to get close enough to Crosby.

“I shouldn’t have flirted with Kendra to make you jealous. It just…it hurt.”

Oh, his honesty. I forgot how honest of a guy he was.

“Well, your plan worked.”

He chuckles. “Jealousy was drowning you. But the King move wasn’t cool. I need to talk to him.”

I pat his stomach. “No, you don’t. He knew what was going on.”

“You never go after another player’s girl.” He shakes his head, pulling me closer. “I want to talk to your parents.”

“No.” I vehemently shake my head. “No, no, no.”

“I’m not going to see you behind their backs.”

“Why not?”

I can imagine my dad. There’s no way.

“El, do you see us with a future?”

“Yes, I hope.”

“Then, I need to talk to your parents.”

His hands pulling his suit back up and tying it, he sinks down into the water. Reaching over, he grabs my bottoms and holds them out for me to put my legs through.

“There’s no arguing. It’s happening.”

Oh, shit.

Chapter Sixteen
Crosby

I
’m
upstairs on my computer with a grin so wide that nothing could knock it off as I remember Ella’s mouth on me when my Instagram alert dings. I’ve been tagged.

Jen and Ella are cooking dinner for the guys as a thank-you for letting them stay here for two weeks. Ella’s attitude toward the move has turned positive since this past afternoon. I’m fairly sure the access to my mouth is on the pro side now. Not that I’m bragging, but she came, screaming.

Tonight…tonight is the night we’ll seal us up. I bought a box of condoms right before moving up here, and I need to pop open that box before my balls turn blue.

Instagram pings again. There’s a comment from some girl, and I have no idea who it is. Before I can see what the hell I’ve been tagged in, ten more ‘likes’ ping.

“What the fuck?” I say aloud to myself.

“Exactly my thought.” Ella stands in my doorway.

Flour has been wiped down the legs of her yoga pants. My mind won’t stop asking if she has anything on under them—

“Crosby!” she yells.

I focus back to her eyes.

She’s holding up her phone. She saw the Instagram pic. Fucking great.

“What?” I disregard my own phone and walk toward her.

Her finger hovers over the phone. “Should I ‘like’ it or not?” Her voice screams anything but a casual question. There’s an accusatory tone.

“What is it?”

I hold my hand out, but she backs up.

“You haven’t seen it yet?” she asks, her finger circling the phone in a teasing motion.

“What is it?”

“My guess is, you already knew about that spot before you snuck me into it. Tsk, tsk, Crosby, two girls in one day.”

She holds the phone up in the air, and lo and behold, it’s me and Kendra. It was right before I left her in that spot, topless and still in heat for me.

“I didn’t.”

“According to this, you did.” She waves it in the air.

“You know me.”

Her eyes pierce into me, long and hard, trying to see the truth.

“I do. I saw you go around the corner with her, Crosby.”

“You also know I was back almost immediately,” I counter, my blood boiling at this Kendra girl.

“Squash it,” she says. She tucks her phone in the waistband of her pants. She reaches the door and turns around. “I won’t be made a fool. That’s one. Don’t put yourself in positions like that.”

“Hey.” I walk over to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her into my arms. I shut my door and back her up until she’s trapped.

“The dinner is going to burn. Jen’s tongue is probably halfway down Saucey’s throat right now.”

“It can wait.” I look at this amazing girl who never lets petty shit get between us. She’s once in a lifetime. “Kiss me.”

She smacks my chest. “You kiss me.”

I don’t answer, but I press my lips to hers. The gentleness gets replaced with a rush of hands and mouths colliding. I pull away, purposely leaving her in a state of want before tonight. My forehead rests on hers, and our eyes peer up through our eyelashes.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

She nods, and her hand brushes along my cheek. “Just don’t ever give me a reason not to.”

“I promise.” I’d engrave that on a stone. Hell, I’d brand myself to show her how serious I am. I will never hurt her again.

“Now, I need to finish the dinner. Brax’s fingers won’t stop picking at the food. Not to mention, you’re probably up to one hundred ‘likes’. Squash it, Cros,” she repeats before leaving the room.

I grab my phone off my desk, and she’s wrong. We’re at five hundred. What the fuck? I don’t even know half of these people. What a dickhead move, going into that cave with Kendra. To say she took it bad when I left her to stop King’s hand from moving along my girl’s skin is an understatement.

I pop my head into Brax’s room. Empty.

I open my bedroom door, knocking on Oliver’s. Empty.

My last resort is Saucey, and I fear what I’ll interrupt, but I need Kendra’s number, so I knock.

“Come in,” he says.

I walk in, closing my eyes, pretending to feel around.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I like my eyesight, and I can’t be blinded by the image of you fucking Jen.” I pretend to touch every surface, and a wad of paper hits my nose.

“She’s not here.”

I open my eyes and am surprised by, first, the cleanliness, and second, no girl.

“I need that Kendra girl’s number, the one from today.”

“Instagram?”

“Yeah.”

“Been there. Ella see?”

“Yep.”

“She giving you hell?”

“Nope, just wants it off.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and scrolls through his contacts. I get my phone armed and ready to enter.

“She’s pretty cool, huh?” he asks, a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

“The coolest.”

“You didn’t make out with Kendra today, did you?”

“No.”

“Maybe, one day, you can tell me how you push all this pussy away.”

I don’t answer because he’s not searching for pointers. Some guys aren’t capable of committing.

“You got that number?”

“Yeah.” He rattles off the number, and I type it in my phone.

“Thanks. I’ll see you at dinner,” I say.

Before I leave, he calls out, “Hey.”

He stands from his desk and breaks the distance, holding his hand out to me. I shake it.

“Congratulations. You win.”

Shit, I forgot all about the bet. “The room is only a bonus.”

“Yeah, I figured. You still have to keep her until Christmas.” He raises one eyebrow in a challenge.

“Done deal. She can’t leave me.” My ego is getting ahead of itself.

“Go.” He waves me to the door.

I shut his door and immediately dial Kendra.

“Crosby!” she screams.

A screeching round of girls behind her also scream. What the fuck?

“How did you know it was me?”

“You programmed your number in, baby. Don’t you remember?”

“Um, no, I didn’t. Listen, I need the picture to be taken down.” I close my door and sit at my desk.

“Why? I thought it was a good way of telling everyone that we’re dating.”

Did I suddenly get cast in the new version of
Psycho
?

“Um, we’re not dating. I’m dating Ella.”

“Crosby,” she whines.

I start playing with a pen on my desk. “Kendra, I apologize if I gave you a false pretense of what we were, but we didn’t do anything, and that picture implies we did.”

“That would be the point, silly.”

The tone in her voice and her inability to actually have a conversation about real events, tells me she’s sitting in the room of sorority girls, armed with their phones to spread the lying gossip.

“Listen”—my voice turns stern—“nothing happened, and I’ll make that clear if you don’t. Unless you want me to embarrass you through Instagram, Snapchat, and any other social media, you’ll delete the picture. I’m with Ella, and that’s the end.”

Nice and to the point.

“No, that’s not the end.”

I hear a door close on her end.

“You can’t go around and embarrass me like that. Everyone heard Ella’s screams, and I had to answer questions about what happened between us. I refuse to be tossed aside for some plain Jane. I’m Kendra Quentin.”

Oh, shit, call the ward. I have a mental case on my hands.

“I said I was sorry. Now, grow up, Kendra, and delete the picture.”

“You should see all the girls looking up to me now that I scored with the new third baseman,” she continues.

My patience is about dead.

“Either delete it, or I’ll comment how nice it is for a girl to prefer the au naturel look. Beaver Kendra has a good ring, yeah?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

A long pause of silence commences, and if it wasn’t for her seething breaths, I’d think she’d hung up.

“Fine. I’ll delete it.”

Finally, she’s back with the sane people.

“While I’m on the phone. I want to see it disappear from my Instagram account.”

I put her on speaker and pull up Instagram.

“Ugh, I really don’t understand why you are slumming it with her. She’s cute and all, but she’s not me. You know how much my daddy paid for these perfect tits?”

“Well, don’t be ashamed to admit you’re not authentic.”

The picture disappears.

“Done. Happy now?”

“Extremely. This is my warning, Kendra. Don’t fuck with my life, and Ella is my life.”

“Whatever. You’ll be back for seconds.”

“I never took firsts,” I say to myself into the silence since she hung up on me.

Relieved that the picture is off, I say screw my calculus work and go downstairs where there’s obviously a party going on.

Salsa music plays from Saucey’s Bluetooth speaker, and he’s dancing with Jen close to his body. His leg is weaved between her legs as she grinds it. Once she dips back and he places his lips right between her breasts, I jog the rest of the way out of the living room and move into the kitchen.

“I swear, those two,” I say. I stop in my tracks.

Ella’s hair is pulled up into a bun, and she keeps twirling her ankle as she’s bent over the counter, looking at her phone. She glances up at me, smiling immediately, and a comfortableness washes over me, like we’ve been back together for years instead of two hours.

“She’s worthless.” She shakes her head and moves back down to her phone. “I see she’s removed the photo.”

No sign of reaction. How about some respect for my miracle work?

“Yeah”—I round the counter of the island, coming up behind her—“I worked my magic.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, her thumb swiping the screen on the phone.

She’s oblivious to my clear erection poking through her yoga pants.

Winding my hands around her sides, I move up until I have her tits firmly in my hands.

Her phone drops to the counter.

“Is that what it takes to get your attention?”

“I’m playing hard to get.” She stands, her hand moving back and landing on my neck.

My lips meet the tender skin under her hairline, a spot I remember would drive her crazy back in high school.

“Mmm,” she mumbles.

The small sounds of her pleasure spur my hands to venture further. My right hand snakes down the front of her pants. Her back melts into me, and I nip at her skin.

“Tonight, you’re sleeping in my bed with me. I’m going to show you all the sex scenes I’ve beaten off to for the past two years. It’s always been you, El,” I whisper.

A tortured moan rumbles out of her mouth.

“Jesus. Is this the way it’s going to be for the next two weeks?” Brax rolls his eyes and walks over to the fridge. Grabbing a beer, he pops off the cap and leans against the counter.

“Mind?” I say.

Ella twists out of my hold, and my hand is ripped away from her wet, warm, and inviting pussy.

“Not at all. I’ll join in if you want.” He props up onto the counter, downing another sip of his beer.

“No small cocks, but thanks for inquiring,” Ella says.

I crack up, pointing my finger at him.

He picks up a roll from the counter and throws it at me. “Crosby knows the size of my cock, and believe me, sweetheart, it isn’t small.”

He winks, and Ella shoots him her classic
ew
look.

“It is true then? You compare your dicks in the shower?” Ella pulls out a tray of mostaccioli from the oven and places it on the stove.

“Come on, Ella. I get you don’t want Crosby to be upset, but he deserves to know the truth.” He jumps down from the counter, his footsteps growing closer to her. “Tell him my dick is bigger.”

He kisses her cheek, and she circles to move away.

“Fuck you.” I take the roll he threw at me and nail him in the forehead.

He starts to laugh, and Ella shakes her head, adding more sauce to the pasta. She sprinkles cheese on it and places it back in the oven.

“Man, you used to be easier to get a rise out of. You’d have fallen for that during our senior year, for sure,” Brax says, opening the fridge. Pulling a beer out, he slides it across the island.

“Yeah, probably. I trust my girl.” I wink over to her, and she smiles before leaning against the counter.

“It’s official. Those screams in the quarry mean you’re together again?” He takes the seat on the stool by the island.

Again, Ella and I share a look.

“Yeah,” I answer.

Ella’s face flushes.

“Is this, like, undercover from Beltline? Because my mom called me this morning to ask a million questions about Crosby’s return and if I’ve seen him with Ella.”

“Jesus,” Ella says. “I hate and love that town in one breath.”

She walks over to me, and instantly, she cuddles in my arms.

“Ella made a deal with her dad.”

She stares up at me, cringing.

“But I’m going to go down next Sunday to talk to him. Clear it all up.”

Brax raises his eyebrows.

“You have my number for when he puts you in the hospital. I can be your next of kin if you’d like.”

“Shut up. Mr. Keaton is a very understanding man.” I look down at Ella, and her lips barely curl into a smile.

“If I were you, I’d do it somewhere public and out of Beltline.” He leaves the kitchen.

Ella’s arms tighten around my stomach.

Brax knows more about that town and Mr. Keaton than I do, but Mr. Keaton still wants what is best for his daughter, and I need to remind him that the best is me.

BOOK: Rounding Third
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