Touchdown (12 page)

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Authors: Garnet Hart

BOOK: Touchdown
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Women. He never realized they were of different species. He may have to study this particular breed he just married.

 

*****

 

“Troy?”

Zoey peeked inside Troy’s private gym. She found him in the corner, with his back on her, reaching for a towel. He was topless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants.

“Yes, Mrs. Myers,” he replied as he wiped his face and neck. “Do you regret sleeping the night without me?”

“If that’s how you say good morning, then good morning, as well.”

He turned to her and smiled.

She lowered her gaze. She’d never seen him half naked before, aside from his billboard photos. She thought those sexy posters and billboards of him were photoshopped, but now she realized he looked even more marvelous in person.

He approached her, and before she knew it, he was already standing before her, with one arm raised over his head, holding on to the top of the door frame.

His biceps and shoulders bulged. His display of power overwhelmed her.

“So what do you think?” he asked.

She frowned, keeping her eyes on his face to save herself from the temptation of touching him. But even his eyes posed danger. They were so rich in blue like a deep mystical ocean. She wanted to dive through them to find out what sort of mysteries lingered beneath them.

“W-what do you mean?” she stuttered.

“My body. Is it good enough for you?”

She took a quick glance at his chest and abs. She could feel her cheeks burning. “You’re fine.”

“Just fine?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Look at it.”

“I just did.”

“Take a longer look. See which part of me do you think needs improvement.”

She obeyed, not because she asked her to but because it was her chance to fill her eyes with the sight of him, with his consent.

He had a perfect tan, which emphasized the contours and shapes of his muscles. They must be hard and smooth. Her fingers itched to touch them.

“So?” he asked, breaking her dreamy eyes off his body.

She quickly returned her eyes to his face. “I’m not sure.”

“You can touch.”

“Why?”

“So you’d know if I have some extra fats that need to be rid of.”

She did not move, even if that was exactly what she wanted to do. She suspected he was trying to manipulate her into something.

“Come on.” He took her hand and pressed it on his abdomen. “Feel it.”

With her gaze locked with his, she stroked him, relishing the feel of his hard muscles underneath her fingers. His skin was hot and moist with sweat. It burned her palm.

A smile pulled the corner of his mouth as he guided her hand lower to his body. She allowed him to. She was too enamored to resist anyway. But when he pressed her hand against his pants over a piece of hard flesh, which somehow had a shape distinct from his ab packs, she froze.

His dick! His hard, seasoned dick. Shit, it was huge!

His evil grin brought her back to reality. She pulled her hand off his grip and slapped his shoulder, pushing him away at the same time.

“Your breakfast is ready,” she said and turned away from him.

“I’d rather have something else for breakfast,” she heard him say, but she ignored him and headed for the kitchen.

“What a prick,” she uttered as she sat at the table, before her cup of coffee. She wiped her palm on her clothes as if to wipe off the sensation that still lingered there, but it didn’t help. The hard feel of his flesh still clung to her palm.

She took a deep breath and found herself smiling. That felt really huge. She wondered just how huge exactly it was.

Five minutes later, Troy walked into the kitchen, wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt.

Thank God she didn’t have to resist another temptation.

“I’ll get you another coffee,” she said and rose to her feet. His coffee went cold already. After she refilled his cup, she laid it in front of him.

He took a big bite from the tuna sandwich. “You made this?” he asked.

She nodded. “You bet.”

“Hmm. I didn’t expect you can cook.”

“I did not cook it. I just threw the ingredients in a bowl and stuffed them in between two slices. As simple as that.”

He nodded. “Not bad. Where’s Cora?” he asked, referring to his helper.

“I gave her a day off,” she replied. “Besides, she said she had to watch her son’s baseball game today.”

“Then who’s making lunch and dinner?”

“Leave it to me.”

He smiled. “Alright, do anything you want, but once I’ve sown my seed inside you, I won’t allow you to do any household chores.”

She sucked in a breath. “I did not agree to that.”

“Oh, yes, you did.”

“I said I’m not getting a drop of your dick juice.”

“Who says you’ll get a drop? You’ll be getting a whole month of load. For your information, I never had sex since the accident. My balls are about to burst.”

She froze in shock for a second or so. “Ah!” She tapped the table. “You’re the most disgusting prick I’ve ever met, Troy Myers. Your big dick is written all over your face.”

“How did you know I’ve got a big dick? That’s not written in the tabloids, is it?”

She growled and left. That was it. She could not possibly keep a nice conversation with him. She’d rather go check the backyard to see if there was something else she could do out there.

“So what are we going to do in one year?” he asked behind her. She realized he had followed her all the way to the garden. “Bore ourselves to death?”

She looked at him over her shoulders. “What about you fuck yourself to death?”

“Or fuck you to death?”

“Don’t start again. It’s been barely twenty-four hours since we’re married and now you’re pissing me off.”

“What are you so pissed about? I just wanted to have a baby.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Not even for twenty million?”

“Christ, will you stop shoving your money in my mouth. Your money is yours. I signed a pre-nup agreement and I’m expecting a generous divorce settlement after this. That’s good enough for me.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What about I set you up on a date with Wayne?”

“I thought I didn’t have a chance with Wayne?”

“I lied.”

She sighed and pointed a finger at the door behind him. “Troy Myers, go back inside and eat your breakfast. Your coffee’s getting cold.”

He shrugged. “Yes, ma’am,” he said and headed back to the house. Before the door, he turned around again. “By the way,” he said aloud. “If you accept my offer, I’ll throw in a ball with my signature as a bonus.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Some things would never change. He was still a pompous prick.

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

Zoey stretched her neck, searching through the crowd that had gathered at Kirk’s house. It was the Patriots’ running back’s birthday. Troy had taken her along with him, but left her in the company of some women half an hour ago.

Those women were the wives of some AFC Officials. They were rich and sophisticated, not to mention beautiful. Even if Troy had bought her a pretty expensive dress for tonight, she still felt like an outcast.

“There you are, you fucktard,” she whispered when she finally spotted him surrounded by a group of women. The son of a bitch was flirting with them. He was grinning from ear to ear as if he had forgotten he had left his wife in a group of strangers half an hour ago.

She squeezed through the crowd until she got to his place. “Excuse me,” she told the ladies and pulled Troy with her to the balcony.

“What were you doing flirting with those women? You just got married four days ago,” she scolded.

“Yes,” he nodded and took a small drink from his wine glass. He obviously looked drunk already. “With a wife I can’t even fuck.”

“Jesus, Troy.” She sighed. “Our deal was clear on that matter. It doesn’t include sex. You wrote that down yourself.”

“But it also doesn’t include prohibiting me from having sex with other women, does it?”

“You crazy?” she exclaimed and quickly looked around when she realized she had spoken too loud. There was only one person on the balcony with them, though, and he was busy talking with someone else on the phone she didn’t think he gave a damn about anyone else around him. “You just wiped your ass clean at the expense of your bachelorhood. Don’t you start shitting all over the place again.”

“Trust me, this time, my shit comes with a different aroma.”

“A shit is a shit, even if it smells like roasted pussy to you.”

He flinched, probably surprised at the words she said. “Does that recipe include hot, thick gravy?”

Her phone rang. She decided to ignore him and answered the caller. Anything than go on talking with this fucktard.

“Zoey!” Franki screamed from the other line. “It’s 32-29. It’s over.”

“What?!” Zoey couldn’t contain her excitement. Franki was talking about the Jets’ game against the Raiders that she didn’t finish because she and Troy had to attend this party. A few minutes ago, she had tried to get an update from Franki but her friend said it still wasn’t over and the scores were tied twice. “Who won!”

“The Jets won!”

She found herself screaming. “That’s 8-2 for the Jets. They’ll definitely make it to the playoffs.”

“No doubt about that. Hey, I’ve gotta go. The baby’s crying.”

“Thanks for the update,” Zoey said and lowered the phone.

“They won, huh,” Troy said with a hint of sarcasm.

She was dumbfounded when she happened to see Troy glowering at her. She had almost forgotten he was standing right beside her, and that he was a player from her team’s rival.

“S-sorry,” she said, but she quickly realized he didn’t deserve her apology, not after all the nasty things he had told her. “No, I’m not sorry. I’m a Jets avid fan. You knew that.”

He nodded. “Why don’t you celebrate here while I go enjoy myself somewhere else?” he said and turned away.

She was about to call him back so she could apologize again, for real this time, but she decided it would be better to let the matter slide away for now.

She went back inside the house and took a glass of wine from the bar. Standing at the corner like a scorned castaway, she watched Troy flirt and dance with one woman to another.

“Manwhore,” she uttered and quickly emptied her glass. She returned to the bar, and this time, she asked for brandy.

She didn’t usually drink, but she had nothing else to do. The guests all seemed very friendly. They would say hi or smile to her every time they passed by her, but no one really stayed long enough for a brief conversation.

She asked for another drink.

The music switched to slow. When she looked at Troy again, she saw a tall woman clinging to him, with their lips barely an inch apart. And that manwhore, he seemed to enjoy the soft feel of the woman’s huge breasts pressed against his chest.

She felt insulted. Her ears turned hot. But what right did she have to stop him? He was right. Nothing in the agreement prohibited him from having sex with other women.

“Another one, please,” she asked the bartender.

The young man smiled and refilled her glass. “I think you’d better get your husband out of there. He’s drunk.”

She looked at him and realized he was right, instead of standing here waiting for him to fornicate right before her eyes.

“Yeah,” she nodded and gulped down her drink. “Thank you.”

She walked towards Troy. She felt a bit tipsy, maybe because she was wearing a pair of two-inch heels while her injury had not yet fully healed. Or maybe because of the brandy.

It didn’t matter. She still could think clearly.

She wasn’t sure how she got the courage, but she found herself pushing the woman and her husband apart.

“Excuse me,” she told the woman, “but I think my husband owes me a dance.”

The woman gave her that killer stare, but left anyway.

Zoey laughed and clung to Troy’s shoulder. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

He had no reaction. “You should have come earlier to take your rightful place.”

Her vision swirled. She blinked, but the more that her surroundings darkened.

What is happening? Did she drink too much?

She dropped her head against his chest. If she’d pass out, at least she knew Troy got her.

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Zoey felt her back being pressed against a soft mattress. She forced her eyes open. She found Troy on top of her.

She smiled. Her mind was still a blur as to how she had ended in this room. “You’re not going to leave me here, are you?”

He pressed his body against hers. “Do you want me to stay?”

She was mesmerized by the way his lips moved as he spoke. They were tempting her. “Kiss me,” she demanded, helplessly submitting to the temptation.

“Gladly,” he said and kissed her mouth.

She responded to him, yielding her body against his. She was on fire. She wanted him so badly.

She was aware of his hand underneath her back, pulling down the zipper of her dress. She also knew she had no bra, but she did not resist his advances. Instead, she started unbuttoning his shirt.

His lips glided down her chin and throat while he tugged her dress lower. She felt the fabric slide against her nipples, baring it.

She moaned and hugged his head, guiding it lower to her breasts. Her nipples distended, craving for his mouth.

He knew exactly what she needed. Without delay, he took one nipple deep in his mouth.

“Oh, Troy,” she moaned and arched her body upward. His mouth was hot. It shot delicious pleasures into her that quickly spread all over her body, smothering away whatever sense of reasons left in her. “That feels good.”

He groaned in response and sucked hard on her nipple. She cried and writhed. “And you taste so good.”

Like a hungry, savage beast, he devoured her breasts—sucking, biting, squeezing.

She was mad with pleasure, her senses soaring wild. She knew her mind had partly shut off, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want any sense of reasons to intervene and take this bliss away from her.

She writhed wildly underneath him, demanding for him not to stop, but he did.

She cracked her eyes open and saw him standing beside the bed, quickly stripping his clothes off.

“Come back here,” she demanded and ran her hand over his hard surface. “I want to feel those muscles on your body.”

He smiled and came back on top of her. “You will, Zoey,” he said and pressed his body against her. “You will feel every inch of me, and I will taste every inch of you.”

She moaned as his hard, hot flesh burned her skin. He was completely naked, and he was on top of her already naked body, as well. She couldn’t even remember how he had gotten rid of her clothes.

She wrapped her arms around him and glided her hand down his back. His hands were back on her breasts, squeezing and flicking her nipple. His mouth nibbled on her neck.

Instinctively, she spread her legs apart. An overheated, smooth, flesh came down, seeking entry.

For a moment, she wondered what it was. His voice distracted her.

“Spread your legs farther, Zoey,” he whispered in her ear before thrusting his tongue inside. “Let me in.”

She obeyed his command, unmindful of what he meant. When he pushed forward, she felt pain.

She cried and her eyes flung wide open. It was his dick. My God, he was entering her.

“Fuck, Zoey,” he moaned as he kept pushing deeper, inch after inch. “You’re tight.”

He was huge. He was splitting her apart. She felt pain, or was it ache? It didn’t matter what it was. All that mattered was that she liked it. Pleasure overwhelmed her senses.

She cried again, but she kept her arms around him, unwilling to let him go. Not in a state like this. Not while her body craved for something that she couldn’t understand.

“Troy, it’s so big,” she said. It’s not that she was complaining. She just wanted to say it.

“Take it all, baby,” he replied. “Take me deeper.”

She would. She wanted it. She needed it. “Yes. I want it all.”

He thrust harder, followed by his growl of pleasure. She clung to him tighter and wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to penetrate her deeper.

“Oh, baby,” he said and started to move in and out of her. “Your pussy’s so hot, so wet.”

She moaned underneath him. All traces of pain had quickly vanished away. Only pleasure remained—blissful pleasure. And there was something else—another pain deep within her. It was threatening to explode.

“Troy,” she whispered his name, pleading for help.

“You’re coming, baby?” he asked. “Are you, huh?” He thrust into her faster and harder.

She writhed underneath him. God, that was exactly what she needed to ease away the agonizing pain within her. He sure did know what to do.

“Don’t stop,” she cried. “Faster.”

He captured her mouth with his and moved faster in and out of her just as she asked. The agonizing pain intensified, threatening to consume her whole.

She stiffened, frightened of what was going on in her body, and then something exploded within her.

She cried, screamed, jerked upward. She tried to beg for Troy to help her, but no words came out of her mouth. He was still inside her, still thrusting wildly as if he never gave a damn about what was going on with her.

The phenomenon wrecked her insides like a giant wave had crashed over her. The torment went on for a long moment. Eventually, it dissipated and her muscles began to soften.

Her weight dropped on the bed, gasping.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he whispered in her ear. She realized he had stopped moving, but his hard flesh remained wedged inside her. “Did I make you come so good?”

So that’s what it was. It was an orgasm. So that was how it felt—so agonizingly blissful.

“Yes,” she replied and kissed his mouth.

He began to move inside her again. “Let’s come together this time,” he murmured.

He started it slow and easy, arousing her anew in just a matter of seconds. Eventually, he picked up speed and was back to the way it was before she came earlier. She was back to the way she was as well, crying and moaning.

“You want more, baby?” he asked.

“Yes,” she cried. “Give me more.”

He lengthened his strokes and slammed harder back inside her. He did give her more, much more than what she had asked for. Her insides warned her of an even bigger orgasm this time. She was on the edge now.

“Fuck, Zoey, I’m almost there,” he rasped and stiffened. His muscles hardened. His cock swelled and throbbed inside her.

She heard his guttural groan before her own cry of bliss. He kept his hands tight against her back and bottom, pressing her body as hard as he could against his.

She felt hot fluid pouring inside her. His seed. It poured lavishly into her.

Moaning, she arched her hips against his still wedged cock. This bliss was beyond anything she’d ever felt her whole life. She had never known such kind of state existed.

She could not tell how long had passed when her body finally recovered from that wracking orgasm and fell on the bed. A few seconds later, he collapsed over her.

She kept her eyes shut. She was too weak to even open them. He was heavy. Too heavy she could not breathe.

 

*****

 

 

Troy exhaled slowly as water poured over him. The memory about what happened between him and Zoey last night was still a blur, but the sound of her moans and whimpers remained in his mind. He could still hear it until now. It kept his cock swelling even as he took a shower.

She was drunk. They were both drunk. He remembered carrying her upstairs, in one of Kirk’s guestrooms. Then it happened so quickly. He may not remember the full details, but it was safe to say he’d had the satisfaction he’d been craving for since the night of that accident. Now, he felt revitalized. If he had to go on for another week of abstinence, he could have preferred to go to jail instead.

He turned off the shower and pulled a towel. He dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist before stepping out of the bathroom. He found Zoey sitting on the bed, covering her naked body with the sheet while peering down at something on the mattress.

Christ, just the sight of her bare shoulders and back made him want to fuck her again.

“Good morning,” he said in his usual tone.

She gasped and quickly turned her head to him. She looked shocked. Seconds later, she screamed.

He flinched and frowned. He waited until she stopped screaming. “Jesus, Zoey. You were as wild as a kitten in heat last night and now you scream like you have no idea about what happened?”

“I was drunk, you prick,” she spat.

“So was I. You begged me for it.”

“That, I do not recall. And even if I did, a gentleman shouldn’t have taken advantage of the situation.”

“Whoever said I was a gentleman?”

She could not speak. The look on her face amused him.

He grinned, and then he noticed something on the bed, on that spot where he found her peering into when he walked out of the bathroom. It looked like a bloodstain.

“What’s that?” he asked as he approached the bed to take a closer look.

She quickly covered the spot with her hand. “It’s nothing. Go away.”

He stepped closer, nudged her hand off and peered at the stain. He blinked twice, unable to believe the reality that hit him. “You were a virgin?” he asked.

“Of course, not,” she quickly denied.

He gawked at her for a few seconds, and then he started laughing like crazy.

This was utterly ridiculous. He had not known such kind of women still existed in this world. “No wonder your boyfriend left you.”

Her face flushed. “So you knew that as well, huh? Is there anything that you don’t know about me?”

“After that,” he said, pointing at the stain, “I think I know it all now.”

Her face turned crimson. He could see she was itching to beat the hell out of him, but he just couldn’t help grinning. There was something about her that he found really ridiculous, unbelievable in a way.

She picked up a pillow and hurled it at his face. He caught it, including the second pillow that followed. None of that would work on him. He’d spent years catching balls that came to him like speeding bullets. Catching a pillow was a joke.

“God, you’re unbearable!” she screamed and threw him another pillow. He caught that, as well, which annoyed her even more. She jumped down the bed and stormed through the bathroom.

“Hurry up. We have a practice in two hours.”

“You go ahead. I’m going to see Bessie. I do hope your team mates crush your face with football.”

He sat on the chair, grinning. This was really amusing. He could go on taunting her.

He stood in front of the bathroom door. “Virgin? At twenty-five?” He laughed. “Christ, you’re pathetic.”

“Fuck off!” she yelled from the other side of the door.

He laughed again. God, he could not stop laughing. He still could not believe he’d actually found a twenty-five year old virgin these days. He couldn’t tell if he was one lucky bastard or life was simply humoring him.

 

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