Jockblocked: A Novel (Gridiron Book 2)(36)
“I’m sure I have.” I just don’t remember them. I have this strange feeling I’ll remember hers, though.
I run a light caress over the anklebone, down the spine of the Achilles tendon, and around the edge of her instep.
Her breathing hitches, so quiet and so soft, I might have imagined it.
“What’re you doing?” Her words are a husky whisper, and my body responds accordingly.
My balls tighten, and my dick’s so hard I’m worried it’ll snap in half, but I can’t reach into my jeans to readjust or I’ll scare her away.
“We’re testing your risk assessment.” And driving myself crazy.
“You should stop.”
“I can’t.” I move my hand up her ankle to cup the slender calf. “Feel good? Worth the risk?”
“I’m not sure.”
That’s an invitation if I ever heard one.
Is it possible to come from just rubbing a girl’s leg? I might test out that theory. “And now?” My fingers find the tender hollow behind her knee. Her pulse beats rapidly against my palm. She’s as turned on as I am and I haven’t even gotten to the good parts.
“It feels riskier,” she croaks.
Yeah, because pretty soon my hand is going to be on your thigh, and I don’t know how I’m going to stop there.
Her fingers are turning white as she grips the sides of her chair. Is she holding herself back? Or keeping herself there?
Fuck, I want to kiss her so bad. I want to kiss her lips but I’d settle for her toes or her knee orshit, if all she’ll allow is for me to touch the tips of her fingers, I’d be okay with that. I need a taste of her. I’m dying for a taste of her.
Desperately, I plead with her, “You sure you don’t want to take a chance? I really don’t take up that much time. I’m low-key, fairly undemanding. I’m the bargain purse. I have all the same hardware as the expensive purse, but I’m cheaper. I bring my own booze, remember?”
I don’t know who moves first. Later she would say it was me. She could be right. I’ve been wanting to kiss her since I discovered her here. Since I saw her at the coffee house. Since maybe before we even met.
I dig my fingers into her long blond hair and pull her onto my lap where her soft parts meet my hard, aching parts. Her hands grip my head and our tongues converge in a wet, hot collision.
She tastes as sweet as she looks. Like the most decadent baked good ever.
My poor dick is aching to feel her bare skin against it. I want to peel off her clothes until the heat of her warms my cold skin. I’ve been itching to mold her tits in my palms, lick the pulse point of her neck.
My mother could come in and ask me my name and I wouldn’t have a response. I’m full of Luce. Her sweet taste, the heat of her touch, the vanilla smell from the cookies.
She wriggles, trying to find the hard spot to alleviate the ache between her legs. My hand drops down to find the smooth skin of her thigh, made bare where her pajamas has ridden up. I hitch her leg higher.
She sighs with relief and moans with pleasure when I press my weight against her. I nearly cry. It feels that good.
I want to both kiss her until the sun comes up and throw her down onto the first surface I can find. Fucking hell, man, who needs a flat surface?
I grip both her hips and drag her slowly across my dick. Her head slowly lolls back, exposing her smooth, beautiful throat. Her fingers are tangled in my hair, and the sharp pulls keep me from going over the edge, keep me from tearing off her kiddie pajama top and pulling down her silky shorts until she’s completely naked.
I swear she’s ready for me, that she’s wet between her legs. Her feet hook into the ladder of the chair and she begins to ride me. I place a hand around her neck and pull her closer so that I can ravage that porcelain skin with my teeth and tongue.
I should be gentle. This is my first chance to show her the reward is worth any risk, but it’s so damned hard.
She smells like the first burst of spring. The clippings from a genuine grass field. Real, honest…mine. I feel like I could just live off the taste of Luce alone. That she’s all the sustenance I’ll need, which both thrills me and scares the shit out of me at the same time.
It’s a crazy, exhilarating feeling, and I seriously cannot get enough. I drag her mouth back to mine so I can drink straight from the fountain. Goddamn, this kiss is better than any sex I’ve ever had. Her mouth is hot and wet, and she kisses me back as if she’s starving and I’m the first food she’s seen in days.
She’s voracious, and every need in her calls forth an answering desire in me. I want to give her anything, everything. I want to kiss her mouth until we’re both too drugged up on each other to do anything but lie on the floor and count our breaths. I want to—
The door slams open. Noises burst into my eardrum. My name is called. Once, twice, a dozen times. I don’t hear it but Lucy does.
She shoves me away.
“I…I should go.” And then she runs off. With my dick trying to punch his way out of my jeans and what sounds like the entire f*cking team out in the hall, I can’t really do much about it. I’m awkwardly rearranging myself so I don’t look completely obscene when Hammer strolls in.
“What the f*ck was that?” Hammer asks. “Isn’t that Ace’s girl?”
I run a hand over my hair. My world’s been tipped upside down with that kiss. “I don’t know, Hammer. I just don’t know.”