The Romantic Pact (Kings of Football)(42)

“Aw, memories,” I say while gripping her thighs.

Her nostrils flare. “You think this is funny?”

I let out a loud laugh. “I do.”

“So, if I start moving my hips again . . .” She shifts, and I quickly toss her off me and push myself to my feet.

“Don’t you even fucking think about it.”

She launches her body at me and clings to my chest, wrapping her legs around my waist. I can’t do anything but grip her and try to steady us as she sticks to me like glue, her hips once again grinding against mine.

“If you think it’s so funny, then I’ll keep doing it.”

I arch my pelvis away from her, trying to keep her crotch from meeting up with mine. “Hazel, stop. You’re going to make me hard again.”

“But it’s funny, Crew.”

I see what she’s doing. Well, two can play at this game.

I spin around and lay her on the bed, grabbing her hands and locking them above her head, then I move my pelvis against hers. This time I’m the one taking control.

“Okay, then. Let’s laugh about it,” I say.

Her eyes widen and her breath catches in her chest.

“Crew, I was . . .” She bites her bottom lip and I watch her eyes slowly start to close and her legs begin to fall open.

Shit.

Fuck.

SHIT!

My hips thrust slightly harder, and her fingers entwine with mine.

“Hazel,” I whisper. Her eyes barely flutter open, and when they do, I ask, “What are we doing?”

“I . . . I don’t know.”

“Want me to stop?”

“Yes and no.”

I chuckle. “That’s not an answer.”

My cock hardens rapidly as I move against her some more. She rotates with me, and we both pick up our strokes.

“Do you want to stop?” she asks.

“Not really,” I answer hoarsely. “But I feel as though we should. I don’t want you being weird with me.”

“I don’t want to be weird either.”

“Okay, then I should stop.”

“Yup.”

But I don’t. Instead, I keep moving, faster and faster, and I realize if I don’t stop soon, I’m going to come in my pants for the second time in twenty-four hours.

“I should really stop,” I say, my teeth clenched, the pleasure that’s pooling at the base of my cock way too fucking good to give up.

“Yeah,” she says breathlessly, moving her hips faster. “Oh God, yes, you should stop.”

“Shit, Haze, are you close?”

Her large round eyes connect with mine and she slowly nods, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip.

“Don’t let this be weird between us. Please,” I beg her. “Because, fuck, I need this release, but I need you too.”

“I won’t let it be weird.”

“Promise?”

She nods, her breath picking up. “Yes . . . promise.” Her hands grip tighter, her back arches, and her core matches up to mine. And fuck, her tits. God, they’re fucking gorgeous. She’s gorgeous. Sexy as hell. “Yes, Crew, right there,” she whispers, and it’s my fucking undoing.

I plant my legs and thrust hard, my cock rubbing against her arousal, causing her to moan louder and louder until she arches so high I can see the point of her nipples pebbling against her black bra as she comes, her hips wildly seeking out every last ounce of pleasure.

The pressure at the base of my cock builds, my balls tighten, and, before I know it, I’m coming once again, riding out the pleasure with her until we both slow down our hips and stare at each other.

We’re silent for a few seconds before she starts laughing.

“Not the kind of reaction a guy likes after he makes a girl come.”

“I’m sorry, but . . . we must be really freaking horny if we’re dry humping like teenagers.”

I laugh. “Yeah, well, it’s been a really long time for me, so I can’t be responsible for what my dick does.” I grip her hands tighter. In fact, when was the last time I had sex?

She laughs and sits up. “I think I should take a shower and you should clean up.”

“Yeah . . .”

She nods. “And the letter. Can’t forget the letter.”

“You’re right.” I start to lift up but then pause. “Promise we’re good.”

She nods again and bites her bottom lip. Not helping, Haze. “Nothing changes, right?”

The pleading in her eyes—the desperation—sends a wave of disappointment through me. Nothing changes? Not even a little? A part of me wonders—what if things did change, what if we did make some moves forward, progress whatever this is between us—would it be so terrible? I love Hazel. She’s one of my best friends. It almost seems as if we’d be missing out on something if we didn’t give this a try.

Then again, from the way she’s looking at me, I’m going to guess that she might not be thinking the what I am. That even though these feelings and emotions bubbling up inside me are strong and they’re making me act out, she might not feel the same way.

She might not want to invest in something romantic. Not when my future is unknown, not when we live so far apart. I can understand the hesitation.