Jockblocked: A Novel (Gridiron Book 2)(100)

But that’s nothing to the sensation that roils through my body when her mouth is back on me. She rubs my shaft along the roof of her mouth, cradling my cock with her tongue as it slides toward the back of her tight throat. Her soft hand cups my balls, rolling them gently, perfectly in her palm.

I grip the side of the chair, and my toes curl into the carpeted floor. Each pass of her mouth is more erotic than the last. She hums, and the vibrations make my entire body shiver. I’m harder than the concrete steps of the stadium. Between the suction of her mouth, her wicked, wicked tongue, and her deft fingers, I have no defense. A eunuch would have erupted in her mouth a minute ago.

Sweating and shaking, I push her away. She moans in protest but I shake my head. I tug awkwardly at her bra, while one-handing my aching erection. Her eyes widen, but she understands what I want and whips off her shirt. Her creamy breasts are bound together in a sweet-looking lace number.

I send her a silent word of apology, and with three swift jerks paint my come all over her chest. The milky white seed spurts onto her delicate collarbone and pools in the valley between her tits. The sight of it makes me hard again.

“I would have swallowed,” she says in a slightly piqued tone.

“I know, Goldie.” I sigh. I pull off my own T-shirt and regretfully wipe off the come. “But I don’t know what the carb content of my stuff is, and I didn’t want to f*ck up your glucose measurements.”

A sharp, surprised laugh sparks out of her. “Seriously? That’s why you pulled out?”

I nod in confusion. “Why else?”

“I don’t know.” She giggles again. “I’ve never even thought about it.”

I pull her off the ground and onto my lap. “Well, it was also hot as hell coming all over you, so there’s that.”

“I think your sperm would have been fine. It’s full of protein, right?” I shrug. I have no idea about the nutritional content of sperm. “Anyway, I think that might have been the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

If I was a blushing man, I’d probably be red-faced at this but as it is, I’m too horny to concentrate on anything but getting Lucy out of her clothes and onto my bed.

“Speaking of good nutrition,” I tell her, “I’m going to waste away if I don’t get my mouth on you.”

She blushes. “Is that right?”

“Never a truer word have I spoken,” I declare.

I take her on the desk. I sit her pretty ass on the edge of the shitty hotel room structure, spread her legs and devour that delicious * until her nail marks score against my skull.

“You are way too good at this,” she whimpers, and I suck on her clit like the sweet candy it is, enjoying the breathy moan that escapes her lips until her whimpers turn to pleas and then escalate into sharp, staccato cries as she creams all over my tongue.

I surge to my feet and then I’m inside her, sliding between her quivering thighs, into the hot clutch of her sex until I’m fully seated. I grab an ass cheek in each hand and hold her, suspended above the desk, while I hammer into her, steady, long, hard strokes.

She places a hand on the wall behind her and plants the other on the desk and meets every thrust with one of her own.

“I lov—”

“Don’t say it,” I order through gritted teeth. “You say it and I’m not going to last long enough for you to come, and you know I love it when you come. Do you know how good it feels when you come around my dick? I can feel every ripple, every flutter. It’s the sexiest goddamn hug a man can get.”

Her eyes glitter, and I see her mouth form those words again. The ones I didn’t think I’d get to hear again. And because they’re what I need and she’s so beautiful and irresistible, I lean closer to hear them, even though I know they’re going to set me off.

“I love you, Matthew Justin Iverson.” Her smile is wide and joyous when she says it, as she pushes me over the cliff.

“Fuck me. I love you, too.” Even as the orgasm shoots down my dick and fireworks detonate in my brain, I keep pumping and miraculously, she comes, too, gasping, clutching, and loving me all the way over the same, wonderful edge.





36





Matty




“Finally.” I rub the back of my neck as the last straggler out of the hotel throws his bag into the back of the car and climbs into the back seat.

It took Ace and me forty minutes to round everyone up. It was worse than herding cats. Twelve guys forgot something in their rooms. Thank God for Lucy, because she helped run around, count heads, and generally get everyone’s ass in gear.

We couldn’t find Getty, who had been sitting on the shitter in one of the bathrooms down by the conference rooms where our team meetings were held that I didn’t even know existed. By the stench coming from the toilet, it was easy to figure out why it wasn’t ever used by anyone but Getty.

Eight guys left their playbooks in their rooms and three had forgotten equipment on the field. Stoltzy had some chick in his room. He couldn’t remember her name and she took about ten minutes to find her phone and dress.

She probably thought she was being cute as she crawled around with her thong and Stoltzy’s T-shirt draped like a scarf around her neck, but Ace and I just wanted her ass gone. By the time we were done chewing out Stoltz for breaking yet another rule, he was tired of her act, too.