I Promise You: Stand-Alone College Sports Romance(60)

Grunts reverberate around the room, the sounds of our sex filling my ears as sweat drips down my face.

She moans, the sounds indecipherable, and I groan with her, clutching her tighter.

“Dillon!” she yells as she shatters, clenching around me.

“So fucking good…” I shout as I join her, her name on my lips as I break apart, still thrusting as my arms wrap around her waist and hold her against me.

We pant for several moments, our bodies slick with sweat. I slide out, dispose of the condom, and plop back down on the bed next to her. She’s still face down taking deep breaths. I trail my fingers over her shoulder and kiss the dimple at the base of her spine—the one I always knew was there. “That was amazing. Round two in ten minutes?”

She says something, the sound muffled by the bed. She turns over, a smile on her face. Her hair sticks out at the top and my lips twitch. “Again?” she asks.

My heart skips a beat when our eyes cling. My words are soft. “Pour toujours.”

“What does that mean?”

Forever.

“It means that we’re gonna use the chair next time. You on top.”

She laughs, the sound soft and husky, taking me right back to a starry night.

Finally, finally, Dandelion. Mine.





18





I’m late. Ugh. The bus left an hour ago, so I’ll need to get an Uber to the stadium. Thankfully, Neil is still around when I arrive in the lobby. He’s wearing a blue dress shirt and tailored gray slacks, his hair swept back, glasses on. A broad smile crosses his face as he takes in my navy skirt and white shell blouse.

“We missed you last night. Got to meet some of the ESPN guys,” he says. “Your headache better?”

A blush steals up my cheeks. Headache. Right.

I banged Dillon McQueen.

A shiver races over me at the memory, his demands, that insatiable side of him. After the mattress acrobatics, round two was on the chair, my legs straddling his, his mouth sucking my neck as I rode him. Round three was in the shower, my back against the tile as water poured over us. His mouth clung to mine with every thrust of his hips.

The sex god left for his room at midnight, late for his curfew. Two hours with him…was it enough? No. He’s sneaking inside me, making me crave dangerous things.

My hand touches the charm around my neck, tied with a ribbon and hidden by my shirt. Good luck for the team, I told myself when I put it on yesterday. It’s not like I’m in love with him. That’s crazy.

“Just tired from the flight.”

Something he sees on my face makes him pause. “Are you involved with McQueen?”

I compose my features, but uneasiness makes me stiffen. There’s no rule that says I can’t. Yes, I’m interning for the Gazette, and that does put me in an odd position… Pushing my thoughts aside, I settle for the best answer. “No.”

He exhales, searching my face. “Ah, good.”

“Why would you ask?” Does my gaze linger too long on him in the stands? It can’t be the articles. I’m simply reporting the game particulars, the touchdowns, the passes, the score, etc. It’s the most boring writing I’ve done, but at least I’m learning the game.

“On the plane, when you walked past him, I thought I heard some talk…”

My attention sharpens. “What talk?”

He shrugs. “It’s just that you’re new and don’t understand how rowdy players can get. In the past they took bets, usually offense versus defense.”

“I remember something like that…they had a trophy and maybe a scoreboard?” It’s a distant memory.

He nods. “They live and die by their traditions. When I played basketball, we did our own things.”

“You think there’s a bet about me?”

“I heard Troy ask Dillon about a challenge and you’d just talked to him—”

“And you think they meant me?” My tone is sharp, and he shrugs.

“I’m sure I was mistaken. Besides, you’re smart enough to avoid a guy like him.”

He isn’t a bad person. Plus, Dillon wouldn’t set me up as part of some contest, like the Theta thing.

“Serena! Serena!” comes two girly voices.

I look over Neil’s shoulders as Chantal and Bambi waltz through the lobby. Decked out in tight jeans, cropped jerseys, styled hair, and full makeup, they look gorgeous. Tiger stickers adorn their cheeks, blue and orange pom-poms in their hands.

“Who are they?” Neil asks, caught in their thrall.

“My sisters,” I murmur. “Didn’t know I had them until recently.” I smile at his confusion. “Thetas. They like me for some reason.”

“We adore you!” calls Chantal, overhearing my comment. They smother me in hugs and squeals.

I rear back, some of the anxiousness Neil’s words caused disappearing. I do a quick round of introductions while he wanders off to arrange an Uber for all of us.

They tell me about the seven-hour drive. “Thank God Ashley rode in a different car,” Bambi grouses. “If I hear her playlist for her and Dillon one more time, I will shoot myself.”

“So, Troy? What happened after I left Caddy’s?” I’ve missed talking to her this week.