Stroker: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (36 page)

My eyes are hot. Why am I so damned emotional over all this? I pick up my handbag and stand, heading for the hallway. “I’ve got to go, Jensen.”

“You just got here.”

“I can’t be with you right now. I don’t know why. I just can’t.”

He blocks my path in the hallway, hand on the wall. “Please.”

I wipe away tears. “Let me through.”

He places his hand on my chest. My heart beats rapidly against it. “I’ll be at the stadium tomorrow night, alone, 10pm. I’ll have Gerry leave the gate near the players’ area unlocked. If you want to be with me, come. If you don’t, I won’t bother you again. You have my word. I’ve said all I can, told you everything. There’s no more I can do.”

“You’re giving me an ultimatum?”

He looks at the wall, eyes wet. I’ve never seen him cry, not even when he snapped his leg against Dallas. “I have to, Scar, because you’re killing me.” He hits his chest. “Right here. It fucking hurts and I can’t take any more.”

I swing underneath his arm, getting out of there before I break down completely, just like I did in that hospital elevator. It seems my life is a series of the same scenes played over and over. “I’ve got to…”

I leave, rushing down the stairs and the tears flowing greater with every step. He doesn’t follow me. There’s nothing he can say.

The ball’s in my possession.

JENSEN

The team’s headed to the coast for well-earned R&R, but I simply can’t do it. I don’t imagine Josh will show either.

Instead, I spend the following day working out at home. I can’t stop. Thoughts come and I get back on the floor—pull-ups, planks, anything to forgot about her until tonight.

She
will
come.

Will she? I wouldn’t gamble on it. The way she left Polly’s apartment… It’s her decision. I’ve made my case. Job done. But I’m nervous, so completely fucking frazzled. This doesn’t happen to me. I’m confident in my own abilities. I know myself inside and out. I am in control, but not here, not this time and that is what makes it so hard.

I run another set of reps—flags, wall walks, X-ups, the fucking hardest shit in the bodyweight book until I’m close to passing out, core tight, rock-fucking-hard.

“She’ll come,” I tell myself, sweat dripping from my forehead. “She will come.”

*

For the first time I’m terrified standing in the middle of the field at Atlas. There’s a light rain falling from melancholy clouds overhead, but I can’t imagine that will keep her away. I
hope
it doesn’t. It’s up to her now.

Only the auxiliary lights are on around the perimeter of the stadium. The field is barely lit, but I want this to feel intimate, not like a grand finale.

It’s five to ten. I pace, cross my arms, unfold my arms. I look at the sky, my feet, the entrance, over and over praying for her to materialize.

The giant clock reads 10 p.m. My heart sinks. What if she doesn’t come? I promised I would stay away. I have to honor that.

The rain picks up, the air charged, the earthy smell of wet turf rising.

Five past. How long should I stay?

I take my cell out at ten past, scroll to her contact, but I can’t do it. I cannot force her.

And then I see her. She’s running across the field. She was never the best runner, her room filled with those yellow consolation ribbons saying ‘Good try!’ and ‘Well done! Sport was never Scarlet’s thing, but she always gave it everything she had.

She stops before me bent over, panting. “Traffic.”

I pull her into me, squeeze her tight against my chest. “Does this mean…?”

She holds me away, hands on my sides. “Yes.”

“The stuff with Carolina, with Josh?”

“I believe you, Jensen. Deep down, I always have.”

I pull her close again. “God, you had me worried.”

She blinks, gaze moving from my lips to my eyes. “Together?”

“Together,” I repeat, locking her in a kiss, our mouths lightly joining and then coupling in full.

The rain falls harder. Her hair turns taffy dark, sticking to her cheeks. She runs her hands under my tee and draws it up. I pull it off, sling it onto the turf without breaking the kiss.

I reach down and undo the button on her jeans, kneeling on the grass and pulling them to her ankles, her panties a warm bundle inside. She kicks off her shoes, her fingers running through my hair.

I’m huffing like I’ve sprinted a hundred yards, rising and pulling her sweater and top away, snapping her bra off and filling my hands with her soft breasts. God how I’ve missed this. With one hand I drag my pants down, my cock springing free rigid and ready.

I hold her away, our breath gathered in a hot cloud between us. In less than a minute we’re both completely naked in the middle of the field, bodies warm against the falling rain.

She slips, falling back onto the turf, floppy and hot.

I drop to my knees and slide up her body, my hand running between her legs and finding the insides of her thighs sticky and humid with arousal.

Her hand runs over my ass and I want to combust, to burn alive from her touch alone as the rain collects in the small of my back.

My hand takes hold of the rounded peach of her backside, her breathing heavy and desperate below me, hair wet, fanned out across the grass.

I prop myself up with one hand, use the other to wipe the rain from her eyes, rivulets of water running from my forehead, the ground soggy below, the wet all around us. I place my lips to her ear. “Yes.”

“Yes,” she replies.

She’s back. She’s mine.

I can’t decide what I want more, to apply my cock or my tongue to her pussy. Prone below me, she waits.

“Fuck me,” she says, quietly, desperately.

I’m shocked and thrilled, her eyes closing and my heat thumping, pounding in my chest with anticipation. “I want you so bad it hurts, but first…”

I gather her hands above her head, pinning them in place and drawing her breasts tight together on her chest. She spreads her legs, the head of my cock nudging against the swollen lips of her pussy.

I’m sure she’s stopped breathing, that she’ll only draw it when I enter her.

I fall forward, stroke into the slick channel of her sex until I’m sheathed completely. She moans, reaching forward and pulling me into a kiss, our tongues sliding and shifting together as I hammer into her hard, our bodies squelching and pressing together on the pitch, the rain beating down on my back as I drive her into the earth.

Muddy water puddles around us, runs down my back as her fingers pull at my hair, refuse to let me go.

We’ve made love before, but this is new. This is raw and primal and fucking insane. She’s possessed, gripping and grasping at every inch of me, rocking her hips upwards to take my full length inside, squeezing my cock with her insides and begging for more, pleading into my mouth.

She bites my bottom lip and my cock twitches inside her close to release. I grit my teeth and hold back, not ready to see this end so soon.

A steady pulse drums in my groin, my head spinning as her wrists twist in my hand, her whole body convulsing and writhing below me.

The rain’s cold. We quiver and shake, but it’s impossible to tell whether it’s from the temperature or our frantic union, my feet shifting in the mud for purchase, looking for better ground by which to lever into her.

I suddenly realize she is at my complete and utter mercy. I can do to her whatever I want, and therein lies the danger.

She lifts her head, shaking. “Turn me over.”

“Why?” comes my voice, unsteady.

“I want you to,” she stops.

“To what?” I press.

“Spank me. I want you to spank me.”

I can’t believe it. I look down at her. She squeezes the muscles in her pussy. I wince. “Do it,” she says, determined.

“Scarlet…”

“Do it!” she cries.

I pull out and flip her over with one hand, a gasp following.

I swat at her ass, the glancing blow quashing droplets of rain and causing her to stiffen with a short shout of surprise. It’s not the first time I’ve spanked a girl, but it’s definitely the first time I’ve got off on it.

“Again,” she whispers, and I spank her harder, loving the small squeal that runs from her lips, the way she wriggles her butt.

I swat at her cheeks again, a bloom of pink lighting up her ass.

This sudden switch in demeanor is pushing me to the edge, pre-cum already running down the front of my cock, the sudden overthrow of insularity welcome even if it is twisted.

I lift my hand, but she reaches back. “Wait,” barely able to get the words out she’s panting so hard.

“What is it?”

She rushes it out, voice wispy. “My ass. Do me in the ass.”

I kneel back, my shiny cock pointed to the stormy clouds above, the lights of the stadium beating down on us. “Are you sure?”

She nods, hands reaching out and clawing into the grass.

I remember what Josh said and for a moment hesitate, but now I see why she wants it. This is about trust, about getting over him once and for all.

Her mouth opens in a pained oval as I run a sole finger down the length of her spine, pausing at the top of her buttocks. She moans, her body telling me to explore further.

I let my finger run back up, trace despondent letters across her back.

She replies with a gated murmur.

I take one of her ass cheeks in my hand, reaching to the other and testing it in my grip. Quick as can be, I swipe at her rump again. She squirms and buckles in the mud, her skin flushed and pink, patchy.

I thought surely this would be too dirty for her, too taboo and forbidden, but her response tells me it’s okay, implores me to continue.

I straddle her, my balls sitting against her spine as I lean forward, my lips kissing the nape of her neck and dropping in a hot trail until she’s purring, begging for more against the drumming of the rain against the ground around us.

I turn, press a solitary finger between the flared lips of her pussy. It sinks in easily.

I can’t take it. I have to taste her before the final act.

I hop off her back and lie beside her, pulling her on top of me in a sixty-nine, my hard cock below her face and my strong hands holding her thighs.

I blow on her and she pushes her hips down in response, seeking my mouth, torturing me with an intimacy I have never known until now.

I blow again, closer now. She writhes and twists in protest.

Finally, mercifully, I push my tongue inside her. I probe into her wetness and she melts into my mouth, reality falling away so fast all we have become in sensation incarnate against the downpour, all cock and pussy, nothing but arousal, wet and wanting.

I splay her lips with my fingers in a vee, lapping along the tight crease between her asshole and pussy before pressing the tip of my tongue into the sopping channel of her slit.

Her clit, fat as a marble, pulses when I dance around it, my tongue continuing to slither and move and push her closer and closer towards climax.

All the while the rain runs into my mouth, the cold and hot mixing together, salty and wet.

I take my time, ease her into it until she’s bucking up and down whining and moaning in frustration.

I let my tongue land on the soft crater of her asshole. She stops, her moan turning into a gasp as I circle her there.

I rim her slowly with the very tip of my tongue, the soft shaft of flesh coaxing new life from the delicate donut of her ass.

I can’t believe we’ve never done this before, experienced this kind of pleasure.

My tongue tightens and I press more firmly. She yields to me. It’s all she can do, whatever resistance she had washed away in the flood.

My fingers fill her pussy, pressed tight together in the burning wetness there, the heated velvet of her holes hot and slippery.

I have her, completely.

I plug her pussy and ass at the same time, my tongue replaced by a finger running into the dark warmth beyond, the two fingers filling her pussy below pressing against it.

My rhythm and confidence grow, both of her openings penetrated and the muscular ring of her anus gripping me as I jam her clit down on my chin, rocking in position as she nears her peak.

She lowers her head and takes me in her mouth.

I hiss into the air, her tongue snaking around my glans.

The way my cockhead fills her mouth, my shaft hot against the wet folds of her tongue—It’s fucking incredible.

She sucks me and I fuck her harder with my fingers. She lets me spill out and takes my balls, one and then the other, rolling them around, bathing them in her mouth as I buck and stammer obscenities, the playing field shifting, my control slipping in time.

I’m close, but I don’t want to come. Not yet.

She lets a testicle fall damp from her lips. “My ass is ready for you now.

God, when she talks dirty… the filth coming from her angelic mouth is too much. Just hearing her say the word sends a sharp thrill racing down to my cock.

“Tell me it’s what you want.”

Curiosity gets the better of her. I hear it in the quiver of her voice. “I want it.”

“You want
what
?”

“I want you in my ass.”

She must think she sounds absurd, but little does she know how hot it makes me as I slide out from below and position myself at her rear, lifting her from the ground, her knees sinking into the grass, hair hanging golden from her head.

I gather her oily arousal in my fingers, lather my cock in it, dab it against her anus. I apply more to the sensitive knot, that infinite source of pleasure pulling closer and closer. Slickened, my fingers dart into her with newfound ease.

She stiffens, drawing in breath as I press the head of my cock between her ass cheeks, let it slide against her arousal.

“You won’t hurt me, will you?”

“Never. Now relax. You’ll see how good it can feel.”

Trust. That’s all it is.

I press forward gently. Instinctively, she stiffens and clenches.

“Relax,” I repeat calmly, nudging into her entrance. It opens fractionally wider.

I place a reassuring hand onto her side and bend over her back, cooing into her ear. My other hand dips underneath her, fingers playing with her clit. Soon, she eases, loose, open, telling me to continue.